Chapter 7: Not Me

Rob

I walked around my office on Monday, taking a break from a large pile of paper work. What Aisha said about choosing this stupid office over having a life outside of work was really getting to me. The worst part was that she was right. I was wasting my life in this office.

I'm going to give Mrs. Branch a week's notice after work, I thought, sitting down at my desk and getting back to work. Then, as if she could here what I was thinking, Mrs. Branch walked in with a huge pile of paperwork.

"I need you to get this done," she said, gesturing to the pile. "I need all of it on my desk by three o'clock."

I looked at the clock on my desk. It was two o'clock.

"You want all of this done in an hour?" I asked.

"That's correct," Mrs. Branch answered.

Screw a week's notice, I thought. I'm quitting right now. With one swift motion, I pushed all the paperwork on to the floor.

"What the hell do you think your doing?" Mrs. Branch's voice boomed throughout the office.

"Quitting!" I answered, packing up my desk. "I'm done working for you. I'll be out of here in an hour!"

I realized that I didn't have that much items to pack and that most of the things in my office belonged to the office. So, I could leave in ten minutes.

"Are you crazy?" Mrs. Branch screeched. "Sit back down and get back to work!"

"Sorry," I replied. "I don't work for you anymore so find someone else to torture, you sadistic psycho bitch."

Everyone in the hallway was watching, but I didn't care. Mrs. Branch's face turned fourteen shades of red. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it and walked out of the office. The people watching walked away snickering.

As I left the office, I felt really good. I could do whatever I wanted. I wasn't going to waste my life anymore. I was free. Later on that night, Amy and I went out for pizza to celebrate.

"Wow," Amy said, when I finished telling her the story. "I can't believe you called her a sadistic bitch."

"I know," I replied. "I never would've done that a week ago."

"What brought this all on?" Amy asked.

"Well, Aisha said I was just keeping the job for the office," I said. "At first I got pissed off at her, but then I started to see what she was saying and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Amy interrupted, holding up her hand. "Aisha? When did you talk to her?"

Oops.

"We ran into each other at the Metropolitan museum," I answered. "Then we took a walk and started talking and then we got into a fight and now we dislike each other again."

"You talked?" Amy asked. "About what pray-tell?"

I didn't want to get into any details because Amy would think that we were dating when we weren't.

"Just things," I answered. "You know, how we knew you and Murray. Where we grew up. Our likes and dislikes."

"So, basically everything?"

"Basically, yes."

Amy started to smile smugly.

"What?" I asked.

"You two like each other," she said, coyly.

"No, we don't," I said.

"Yes, you do. Apparently you talked for most of the afternoon on Saturday. And you should've seen your face when her name came up."

"My face didn't do anything."

I felt my face grow warm.

"You're blushing," Amy said.

"No, I'm not," I protested.

"Yes, you are," Amy taunted. "You like her."

"No I don't," I said. "Can you drop it, please?"

"Okay, fine," Amy said, holding her hands up in surrender. "Dropped."

When I got home later, Amy's taunting voice echoed in my head. The more I thought about the more I realized she was right. I was definitely attracted to Aisha. Why me? I thought.

Four Days Later……………

Aisha

Every Friday, Murray and I would meet for lunch to touch base, so Friday I told him all about my run-in with Roderick.

"I don't even know what word describes Roderick," I ranted. "He doesn't know what he wants. He would rather work in a big office than see his family and he acts like he's all high and mighty. It's annoying. Roderick is so………..infuriating."

Murray mumbled something that I couldn't hear, but it sound like, "Roderick, Roderick, Roderick."

"What?" I said.

"What?" Murray repeated.

"You said something," I said.

"No I didn't," Murray protested.

"Repeat please," I said.

Murray sighed. "I said, 'Roderick, Roderick, Roderick.'"

"I knew it!" I exclaimed jabbing a finger at Murray.

"I'm hungry and you're jabbing a finger in my face," Murray said, pushing my finger away. "Do you want to keep that finger or do you want to go through the rest of your life with only four?"

I put my hand down. "What's with the triple Rodericks?"

"You have not stopped talking about him since you walked in here," Murray said.

"That's not true," I protested. I talked about the exhibit."

"Which led to Roderick," Murray said. "You have a thing for this guy you supposedly hate."

"I do not have a thing for him," I said.

"Oh, please. If you were in the second grade, you'd be picking fights with him and throwing spitballs at him."

"That's not true. I don't have a thing for Roderick."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't. End of story."

"Fine. End of story."

Finally the waitress came and brought our food. Murray had a smug expression on his face so I knew in his head he was still arguing with me.

"I don't," I said.

"Okay," Murray said. "I believe you."

When I went home, our conversation kept playing in my head. That's when I realized that I did have a thing for Roderick. I don't want to have a thing for him, I thought. Luckily, I was never going to see him again so I my thing for him would die soon.

I walked around the art show that night, admiring the kid's artwork and chatting to their parents. Most of their work was fantastic. Especially Clara's. Speaking of which, I thought. I haven't seen her all night.

But, then I found her sitting in a chair back the wall with her legs swinging underneath her. I made a beeline over to her.

"Hey, Clara," I said.

"Hi," Clara responded.

"Is your mom here?" I asked.

"No," Clara said. "She's working."

"What about your dad?"

"He's working, too."

My heart was breaking for Clara. I could tell that she really wanted her parents to come and they couldn't take two hours out of their day just to look at their little girl's artwork.

"I'm sorry that you're here by yourself," I said.

"I'm not," Clara said. "My uncle's here."

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah," she answered. "He's my favorite uncle. I like him better than my parents."

"Where is he?"

"He's in the bathroom. He told me to stay here until he got back."

Well, at least someone cares enough about her to come tonight, I thought.

"Do you want to meet him?" Clara asked.

"I'd be happy to," I answered.

"Good," she said. "He just walked in."

I stood up and turned around to meet Clara's uncle. When I saw him, my jaw dropped to the floor. I must be hallucinating, I thought. There is no way that Roderick is Clara's uncle.

To Be Continued…………

A/N: It'll get better. Chapter 8 is coming soon.