Twenty and Jobless

by R.S. Jackson

  I sink into the chair closest to the door, just enough to catch the cold breeze entering through the gaps. The clock catches my eye. Ten past ten. I'm late. Should of just stayed in bed.

  "Jaime James," says a voice. "You're next."

  Jaime James. Stupid name. I swear my parents hate me.

  I drag myself off the chair and through the doors, entering the interview room on the right. Well, I say room, more of a cupboard really. I'm not even sure I could stretch my arms out in here without causing some kind of injury.

  I sit down and lean forward, placing my hands flat on each knee. Dad tells me leaning forward shows eagerness and interest. My best bet; it's going to work about as much as this stupid blue tie around my neck.

  The door handle creaks open behind me and a short man rushes into the room, "Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm running a bit late today you see."

  That's ironic. I could of swore I was the late one.

  I get ready to lean forward and shake his hand. I've been practising this with Dad: Firm, strong grip. Don't squeeze. Just enough to show him you mean business.

  I stretch my hand out and he nudges past without uttering a word. I swear. I don't know why I bother.

  He sits down in his chair, knocking his knees into mine, the desk so thin that I'm practically sitting on his lap.

  He starts ferreting through his desk, his thick moustache twitching from side to side.

  "Where did I put that now," he mumbles under his breath.

  Must be looking for my CV, hope so anyway. I worked hard on that piece of paper. I followed every internet guide there is. It took me hours to write down all of them poxy qualifications.

  "Ahhh, there it is," he smiles. He pulls out a tissue box and drops it on the desk, humming a song as he proceeds to wipe his hands, face, nose, and ears with every millimetre of the tissue. I could of swore I come for an interview; not a health inspection.

  "So, Jaime is it?" he says, the chunk of red ham bouncing around his top lip, clinging on to a single strand of hair for its dear life.

  "Yes sir," I respond. Saying sir is a sign of respect. Let's hope it makes up for the missed hand shake.

  "Okay, so let's start this interview shall we."

  It would be nice.

  "So why do you want to work for Johnsons?"

  I smile to myself. I've been to enough interviews over the past few years and have obtained the perfect spiel. It's full proof. Get ready for the bullshit.

  "I am interested in working for your company because I have been a customer here for many years, and as a customer, I've gotten to know your company well and appreciate the products and environment you've created here. It's important for me to work in a place that I admire, and I know that I would be proud to work here."

  "Hmmm, really," he says. "That's impressive. So do you come in here on a regular basis?"

  "Yes, sir, " I lie. "It's my favourite company."

  "Oh it is, that's interesting. We don't get that a lot," he chuckles. "Most people don't even know we're here. But I guess you need to get your adult diapers from somewhere don't you."

  "Yes sir," I respond. Wait? What did he just say?

  "And what do you think you'll bring to this role that the other candidates won't?"

  I've gone too far now. Might as well lie my way through this one too, "Good time management and tidiness."

  "That's good to hear. Good punctuality is our motto here, you see."

  "Mine too, sir." Lies lies lies. I don’t know which one of us is worse at it.

  He smiles, well, I think he smiles. His bushy moustache covers most of his top lip making it hard to tell if it is ever actually moving.

  "I guess that's about it really. Everything seems fine to me, I just need to know which job position you were applying for?"

  A bead of sweat drips down my side. Shit. I have no idea. "Erm, it was the, erm." Think Jamie think.

  He pulls his glasses down to the tip of his nose and peers down at me, "Was it the supervisor position?"

  "Yes sir, that's right, it was the supervisor position," I lie again.

  "Oh I see," he sighs. "That role has already been taken I'm afraid. It's a shame really. The technician role was still available."

  You've got to be kidding me.

  The door swings open behind me, "George, you're needed in sector two."

  "Okay Barbara, I'll be right out." He turns to me, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience I've caused you, Jaime. I'll keep your CV in case something similar pops up though, okay?"

  "Yes sir, that's fine."

  "You can see yourself out can't you?"

  I grit my teeth and nod. So close. Why didn't I write the job title down on that stupid piece of paper.

  I storm out the building and toss the paper to the ground. Shit. It's going to be a long walk back now, even longer if I want to avoid mom's chat. Useless.

  Two long legs, attached to two giant oversized boots, dangling from a wall, catch my eye. I arch my neck forward to see Katie waiting outside.

  "How did the interview go?" she says.

  "Terrible, I got the...wait, how did you know I was here?"

  "I think half of the city could see you sweating through that window," she smiles. "But seriously, why do you want to work at an adult diaper company anyway?"

  Chapter Four

  We walk through the automatic doors of the shopping centre and the smell of freshly baked pastry wafts up my nostrils.

  "You missed breakfast this morning," my stomach growls.

  "So, do you want to get something to eat?" says Katie.

  I look to my left to see her staring at the floor, kicking her boots against one another.

  "Erm," I pull out my pockets to reveal nothing inside. "I might have to check the bank first."

  "It can be my treat, if you want?" she smiles.

  I already feel bad for not recognising her earlier. I really don't want to take any charity from her as well.

  "It's okay, I need to check my bank balance anyway," I lie.

  I know there's nothing in there. I spent the last of it on Claire's birthday present last week. What a waste. If I'd known she was going to run off like that I would of bought a plastic necklace instead of gold.

  I march over to the cash machine and ram my card into its slot, hoping my threats will convince the machine to give me more money.

  I squash my fingers into the keys to input my PIN number: 1 2 3 4. That's the pin the bank gave me. I know right. It's like they want me to get robbed. They might as well have left a welcome mat with the key underneath it. I tell myself every time I enter it I'll call them up and change it. It's been ten years. I swear I'll do it tonight.

  The machine loads up and I press bank balance. I know what it's going to say, but for some reason I stand there, hoping it changed over night, like some mistake at the bank drops a few thousand into my account. I don't need millions. Just enough to survive that's all.

  The screen loads up: £0.00 balance remaining. Get a job loser.

  When did they start adding personal insults?

  I yank my card out of the slot and spin around to see Katie standing nose close behind me, her sparkling green eyes looking deep into mine.

  For some reason I don’t find it unnerving, which is strange because I don't like it when people stare at me for no reason. Maybe it's those eyelashes, mesmerising me with every blink. Hypnotising.

  "Are you ready?"

  I refocus to see Katie staring at me with her head tilted to one side. "Yeah, well erm, no not really. I'm broke," I say rubbing the back of my neck, the first bit of truth I've spoken all day. It kinda feels good not to lie for once.

  "My treat then," she says clicking her boots together. "Follow me."

  She twirls on the spot and skips towards the café opposite, oblivious to the crowds of people staring at her. I smile to myself. I need to be more like her, not caring what others think like that. She makes it look so easy.

&
nbsp; I follow her through the crowd and watch as she dances her way through the maze of green chairs, flicking her eyes back up at me and smiling every so often.

  "Let's sit here," she says.

  She twirls again and drops into the seat, right in the middle of the empty café. This café’s usually really busy. Must of got lucky for a change.

  I sit down and take my phone out to check the time. 11:00am. That's a lie. I don't care about the time. I was hoping Claire had text me. Nothing.

  "So, what would you like?"

  I look up, her white teeth beaming from ear to ear. She really likes to smile doesn't she. Not that I'm complaining. It's a lot better than all the frowns I've been getting lately.

  I don't want to be rude and ask for something expensive. I shrug my shoulders, "I'll have what you're having."

  "Hmm, how's about a Blueberry muffin?"

  "Yeah ok, sounds good." That's a bit random. I don't think I've ever tried a blueberry muffin before, not that I'm going to complain though. My stomach is growling at me like a caged lion.

  "Okay," she says.

  I watch as she gets up and skips her way over to the counter, her scruffy brown ponytail bouncing from one shoulder to the other. Why's she being so nice to me? Were we friends at school?

  I hear a shout to the right,"Hey Jayman!"

  Dread rushes through my body. I know who it is before I even turn around. The lads I used to hang around with at school and college. I'd been dodging their calls for weeks.

  They leap over the barriers surrounding the café and sit on all the seats around me.

  "Jayman!" says Seth. "Long time man, what's been happening with you? I haven't seen you in weeks."

  Jayman. That nickname. I feel sick. Time to start lying again, and changing my personality while at it, "Yeah, sorry lads, been busy working and stuff, you know how it is."

  "I understand man. Work hard, play hard, am I right?"

  I nod. They were fine to hang around with at school, but now, I don’t know, they just get on my nerves.

  "I heard about Claire, what a little slag," he says squinting his eyes while combing his fingers through his straggly hair. "Bitches, am I right?"

  My fists clench up and I edge forward on my chair. How dare he call Claire a slag. She's my...wait...we're not together any more.

  I slouch back into the chair and nod, my hands going limp and dangling to my sides. We're not together any more.

  "It's tough Jayman, It really is. When I broke up with Jenna...."

  I zone out from his annoying lecture. No more Claire. I've got nothing left: No money. No job. No life. Nothing.

  "...so are you in?"

  I shake my head and look up, "What's that?"

  "Party Jayman," he shouts. "Let's do this!"

  "It's eleven in the morning. Bit earlier in it?"

  "Who cares man, life is for living, let's enjoy it while it lasts."

  That was actually pretty smart. He's too dumb to have come up with that on his own. Must be a song lyric or something.

  "I don’t know, I don't feel up to it."

  He grabs me by the shoulder and shakes me, "It will help you forget about her, trust me."

  I do want to forget. I shift my head to right and I'm about to say yes when Katie catches my eye, standing in front of the glass counter with two blueberry muffins in her hands; no smile. She always smiles.

  "Nah, I'm okay Seth," I say. "I'm busy today."

  Her smile returns bigger than ever. She's been too kind to me today. I can't just ditch her and besides, that smile's growing on me.

  Seth turns on his chair and looks at Katie, "That mess!?" he shouts. "What the hell happened to her hair, man? Looks like she got run over with a lawnmower."

  The group of lads laugh along with him. You can see why I ditched them.

  "Just leave it, Seth," I say.

  "Alright man, whatever floats your boat, am I right?" he grins. What an idiot.

  "I'll catch you later then Jayman." He gets up and the group follow him like sheep, slapping me on the back as they do.

  I let out a sigh. Glad they're gone, not sure I could've handled that all day.

  Katie's still standing beside the counter with two muffins in her hands. A nervous smile appearing and disappearing with every shift of her eyes.

  I wave my hand to try beckon her over. She smiles, clicks her boots together, and skips her way over to the table.

  "Here you go," she says, offering the muffin.

  "Thanks. I'm really sorry about them, they're a bunch of..."

  "It's fine, honestly," she says, biting down on the corner of her lip.

  It obviously isn’t.

  "I like your hair by the way,” I say hoping to distract her. “It looks nice. Simple. Not like most girls now, they try too hard."

  It feels good to tell the truth, even at the expense of my blushing red cheeks.

  She sits down and pulls the blueberry off the top of her muffin, "Thanks, JayJay."

  JayJay? No ones ever called me that before. I kind of like it.

  Chapter Five

  After finishing the muffins we go for a walk around the shopping centre.

  "What else have you got to do today?" she asks.

  "Let me see. Get dumped by my girlfriend, check. Mess up another interview, check. I think that's about it really."

  She giggles which makes me smile.

  "Oh my god." She stops and points at my face.

  Is there something on it? Did I say something stupid?

  "I knew there was a smile behind that grumpy face."

  "Grumpy?"

  She nudges her shoulder against mine, "I'm just joking with you. You're pretty really don't worry."

  I start laughing, although I think she's right. I can't remember the last time I smiled without faking it.

  "Quick, follow me," she shouts.

  She dashes in front of me and presses her nose against the window of the travel agents.

  "What's the big deal?"

  She squashes her finger against the window. Hundreds of pictures are pinned up on a wall, each showing various luxurious destinations: from island paradises to country escapes.

  "Do you like to travel?"

  She slides her face across the window, "I wish. I've never even left the city before. What about you?"

  "I went to France when I was twelve. Got sick on the first day and spent most of the week in bed."

  She looks at me and tilts her head, "Well that doesn't count now does it. A holiday should be an adventure. It should be about having fun, doing things you only ever dream of doing at home...escaping."

  "I didn't choose to stay in bed, sort of." It's probably best not to mention what was wrong with me.

  "We should just jump on a plane and travel somewhere," she says, eyes beaming.

  "I would like to get away from this place,” I say.

  I take another glance at my phone. Far far away for that matter. As far as it takes to forget about my life.

  "Then let's do it. Right now. Today."

  "It's not that I don't want to, because I mean, I'd do anything right now to get away from all this,” I say waving my hands in the air. “But it's just not gonna happen, not unless you've got a few thousand pounds in them boots of yours. We've got no chance."

  She clicks her heels together, "Well it just so happens..."

  We both start laughing at the same time, although I really wouldn't put it past her. Those boots are massive.

  She chuckles to a stop and flicks her eyelashes at the windows behind. "The sun's finally come out,” she says. “Maybe we could just make our own paradise outside instead then."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Just follow me, JayJay. I'll show you."

  She skips around me and I follow her outside, her ponytail bobbing from shoulder to shoulder. Why is she so happy all the time? What am I missing?

  An odd reflection catches my eye as I pass the door. Who's that idiot w
ith a big grin on his face? Wait, is that me? I pull my hand up to find two dimples on either cheek. Just like Katie's. How's she doing this to me?

  The warmth of the sun hits me on the side of my face. I close my eyes and stand still for a second; taking in the sun's generous hug. It feels good. Nice to be wanted by someone. It's not very often we get sun here, usually it rains no stop. Typical English city really.

  I reopen my eyes. Katie is sitting in the middle of the grass roundabout, cars navigating their way around with confused looks on their faces.

  "What are you doing on there?" I shout.

  "It's our desert island! Come see!"

  She's mad. I can't sit in the middle of a roundabout. People are going to think I've gone crazy.

  But then I see her face, smiling from ear to ear like she always does. She doesn't seem bothered, almost ignorant to the fact the whole world is passing her by; judging her. I need to be more like that.

  I take a deep breath. Screw it. Why not. I jog across the pathway and stop at the edge of the curb, cars flashing by, increasing my heart beat with the sounds of their engines. I plot my path. Go!

  I dodge the first car, and the next. Horns beeping in my ear. I leap forward into the middle of the road, missing a truck by an inch. Nearly there. I look to the left. Nothing. I dash for the island. A car comes bombing around the corner and clips the side of my leg.

  I go hurtling over my shoulders, catching a glimpse of my own legs behind me, and slam straight onto the grass on my back.

  "Oh my god! Are you okay?" I hear scream.

  Followed by, "Get off the road, arsehole!"

  I guess the first was Katie, or at least I hope it was.

  I look to the right to see her by my side, "Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

  "Are my legs still attached?" I ask.

  She starts giggling,"Yeah, I think so anyway."

  "That's good to know."

  "Do you want to get up?"

  "Yeah, I'll give it a try."

  I try to pull myself up, but my chest clamps up. "Argh! I think I'll stay here for a second."

  "Did you hurt yourself? Should I phone someone?"

  "Nah...I'm fine, it doesn't even hurt." I lie. "Let's just stay here for a bit though."

  I've felt this pain before, when I used to play rugby on Saturdays. Being winded hurts, but not as much as having your pride damaged. How did I miss that car. It was bright yellow.

  She smiles and waves her hands in the air, "Welcome to paradise. Okay, it's not been the best start and yes, it's a little bit noisy, but look."

  She points up. Wow. You can see the whole sky from here. It's like being in a giant dome of blue surrounded by green hedges, just high enough to block out the road. It feels like you're almost secluded from the world; safe and secure. I can see why she likes it.