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Abby

The holidays are over, and I have my studies sorted, starting in October. I’m even a bit excited. My parents were hoping I would attend full-time and move in with them. That would make no sense. I don’t want to waste half my life on school. I want to gain experience and have my own money. It’s about time. Part-time studies allow me to do that. I have no clue where they got such a dumb idea. It was obvious that either I would stay here or move but to a bigger city, and only if Ve goes with me. I have a well-defined plan for myself, and nothing can disrupt it.

Today, I had a conversation with my father. He’s irritated that I didn’t choose full-time and as a result won’t move to the countryside with them. I thought we were past this, really. After all, they gave me the car. He’s bothered that with each passing day he’s losing control over me, which he has been trying to maintain throughout my life. Or maybe he just wants to show off that I studied full-time. Ugh! He has resorted to manipulation and extortion—not for the first time. It’s a bit surprising that he still hasn’t learned that those tricks don’t work on me. I’m not susceptible to such attempts. I immediately sense them and know how to defend myself effectively. Say what you will, but you can’t deny that I’m sharp, have incredible intuition, and the ability to quickly, almost flawlessly, connect and relate facts. It has always allowed me to be a few steps ahead of others. I even wondered once if I should work in a profession where people and situations are analyzed. I like mysteries and puzzles.

I also don’t understand my mom’s behavior. She can’t stand up to him. My father forbade her from contributing to my studies just because I’m ambitious and self-sufficient. He did it just to spite me. I told him I’d manage, and to my mom I said she had to lend me money for the first semester. I’ll repay her.

Today, his words keep resonating in my head.

“If you don’t find a job, I’ll sell the apartment, and you’ll move in with us.”

No fucking way! I thought. He still thinks he can tell me what to do. But that won’t happen. I’ve got my own plan for myself and fully intend to go through with it, but in the circumstances I find myself in, I’m forced to accelerate certain steps, like looking for a job.

So, I go to the mall. To my delight, there’s an announcement on a newly opened clothing store that they’re looking for a salesperson. Without much thought, I knock on the door. A worker comes out. I ask him who I can contact about the job, and he provides me with the details. When I get home, I call the specified number. A man answers.

“Good afternoon, I noticed that you are looking for an employee for the newly opened store. What should I do to apply for this job?”

“Good afternoon. Please send your CV. Can you note down the email?”

I do so and hang up. I immediately sit at the computer to finish my CV. When it’s ready, I send the application.

A few days pass, but no one contacts me. It’s getting annoying. After all, my ambition is to take my dad down a peg, so I have to get this job, and quickly. And I happen to know this clothing brand well, so it should work out. I just need a chance to present myself, maybe during an interview.

“What’s wrong, kitty cat?” Ve asks, clearly sensing my mood.

“Oh, nothing. Still waiting for them to call.”

“They will. I’m sure.”

He gives me a quick kiss and—late as always—rushes off to work, which he found after a brief search. We created his CV together, and he went to distribute it to a few places.

Nope, I can’t wait any longer. I call the guy. He picks up at once.

“Good morning, my name is Abigail Brooks. I sent my CV to you, but no one has called me.”

“Good morning, miss. I’m just reviewing it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, the one in the photo with two braids?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I just gave it to our manager who oversees this region. She should contact you later today.”

“That’s wonderful, thank you!”

This is good news indeed. A moment later, my cellphone rings.

“Good morning, my name is Martha Moore. I’m calling you regarding the job. I received your CV from our director. I would like to invite you for an interview. Thursday at eleven at our salon.”

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

“Please ask for me when you’re there.”

“Of course.”

I write down her name, so I won’t forget. It should be downhill from now on. I sit at the computer and search for information on working in a clothing store. I have some understanding of sizes and so on, so it shouldn’t be very difficult.

While waiting for Ve’s return, I contemplate all of this. We’ve been together for two and a half years. We’ve had different stages, but for a while now, there’s been a sense of monotony between us. Maybe living together wasn’t such a good idea after all? Everyday life has crept in. The spark is gone. And I still have to endure his little lies! I don’t understand why he has a problem speaking directly about what he thinks. It must be related to his childhood. We’re very young—nineteen and twenty years old, which isn’t much. We play house, learning something new about each other every day.

I’m awakened by the sound of the key turning in the lock. Wow, I don’t remember falling asleep.

“Hi, kitty cat! I’m back.”

I drag myself out of bed to greet him.

“Hi, Ve, how was work?” I ask, but seeing the expression on his face, I can already tell it’s not for him.

“I won’t last long there. That job is regressive, seriously.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Not great.”

“We’ll find you something better. Meanwhile, I decided to call the director whose number I got from the store and ask about my CV.”

“Really?” He’s clearly surprised. He knows me. I’m not a bold person. But when I have my back against the wall or want to prove something to someone, layers of energy, boldness, and self-confidence surge within me, and I surprise even myself.

“Why wait, I thought. I called him, and I have an interview on Thursday.”

“That’s wonderful, Abby!” Ve rushes over and hugs me tightly. He seems genuinely happy.

“You hungry? I can make you sandwiches.”

“I’d love that. I’ll make us tea in the meantime.”

After a shared dinner, we both collapse in front of the TV.