Melt Your Headaches, Call It Work

“Spencer, I think I just killed Jon,” I announced, opening what was once my front door and jumping in between Spencer and Haley. “Hi Haley, how are you?” I asked sweetly, ignoring her angry face.

“Libs, what are you doing here?” Spencer sighed, pausing the movie, the arm that was once around Haley’s shoulders dropping to rest on mine. “And why did you kill Jon?”

“One, I came to tell you that I’m blowing you off for Friday Movie Night; two, I came to tell you I called to take that job; and three, he asked me if I was a lesbian. I mean, not that I care or anything, but my mom’s been asking me that for at least three hours straight. A girl can only handle so much.”

“Why are you blowing me off, you hypocrite?” Next to me, Haley made a noise between a whistling kettle and a steam engine before storming to the kitchen. I don't understand why she hates me. Maybe it's because the second time she met me, I opened the door in my towel, calling over my shoulder for Spencer to get his pants on because his date was here. It was all honestly a simple mistake, who was I to know that Spencer hadn't told her he lived with a girl? Whatever the reason, Haley just doesn't like me.

“Because I have a job interview,” I shrugged. “And Haley is totally wearing my sweatshirt.”

“No it isn’t, it’s mine which you stole from me so I stole it back,” he replied automatically. “And what job interview are you getting?”

“Remember the guy who came in the other day with the glitter in his hair? The one who needed the live-in nanny? That guy?” When Spencer nodded, I barreled on. “Well, I called in for that one.”

“What? But Libby, what if he’s—you can’t!” he stuttered. “Libby, do you have any freaking clue how f-ing dangerous that is?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea!” Haley chirped, sitting back on the couch. “Libby, you deserve to have a proper job, and a proper home!”

“Libby, if it’s about the home, you can move back in!” Spencer protested while Haley let out a strangled “NO!” Spencer, thankfully, ignored her. “Just don’t take the job, he could be a con artist, or something just as dangerous!”

“Spence, he had glitter in his hair. No self-respecting man, con-artist or not, is going to put glitter in their hair,” I snorted. Haley perched closer, placing one hand on my knee.

“Spencer, she’s going for the job. Now, Lizzie, do you have a resume that you can bring in?” Haley asked me, smiling like Christmas had come early.

“Uh…no?” I arched an eyebrow, while Spencer dropped his head back and groaned.

“Haley, do not encourage her. Doing so will result in something horrible,” he wailed. "Last time it happened, I was suspended for a week!"

“Shut up, Spence!” I hissed, waving my hand at him. He let out a meep of protest, but both Haley and I shushed him. “Go on. What am I going to need?”

“Well, you’d need your boss to write you a letter of recommendation, and maybe anyone else you can think of,” Haley mused. “Maybe you can contact anyone you’ve ever babysat and ask them to write you a letter, too!”

“Huh, Spencer, can you do me a favor and call your mom for me?” I asked, still focused on Haley. “And call my mom, but don’t make it sound like I’m here, cause then I’d actually have to go home sooner than later.”

“No, I refuse to be a part of this,” Spencer snapped. I rolled my eyes and reached over him for the phone, dialing his home number. After countless phone calls, Haley and I collected enough people who promised they’d write me letters to fill a proper resume. We actually 'bonded'. Scary, huh?

“Well, I’d better get going. Wouldn’t want my mom thinking I got mugged, or anything,” I yawned, standing up and walking towards the door. “Maybe if I get lucky, someone’ll kidnap me! Happy fucking!”

I opened the door and skipped down four flights of stairs, my coat fluttering behind me. People were staring, but that was fine with me. I was moving out of my mom’s house. Still skipping, I made my way home, feet slightly frozen and burning from the asphalt.

After getting hundreds of weird stares, nearly getting hit by two cars and a bus, I made it home. I pranced through the door, hugged Ted, and danced my way into the kitchen.

“What drugs are you on?” Ted snickered, climbing over the couch so he could lie down while watching me twirl and pirouette my way across the hardwood. My dad reached over from his chair and thwaped him across the back of the head, never taking his eyes off the movie on TV.

“Shuddup, Ted,” he growled. “Can’t you see she’s met someone?” A crash echoed from the kitchen, before my mother came rushing out, a grin splitting her face in two.

“You met someone? Oh honey, what’s his name? Is he cute? Where does he live?” she gushed, pulling me into her chest for a hug. I winced and struggled to be free, but she wouldn’t let me go. “Oh honey, this is perfect! Tell me everything!”

“No, ma, it’s not like that,” I protested, my face still against her shoulder. “I got a job interview, that’s all.”

“Sweetheart, are you leaving Starbucks?” my mother asked, getting, if possible, even more excited. “Oh honey, I’m so proud! You’re going back to school, aren’t you?” Before quitting college and moving in with Spencer, I had been studying at Harvard. Unlike Spencer who suffered through culinary school to be the amazing chef he is today and Ted who graduated full honors as a fully certified businessman, I left a the summer before my junior year for reasons none other than that college wasn’t for me, and I had yet to find my calling.

“Ma, I’d rather swallow a knife than go back to school right now,” I growled, tugging away from her grip. “And it’s about becoming a nanny, nothing to do with college.”

“Why not?” my dad called from the couch. “And don’t give me that bull about not finding your calling.”

“Geoff! Leave the poor girl alone!” my mother snapped, hitting him on the side of the head. “She’ll tell us when she wants too! Won’t you, sweetie-pie?”

“You know what, I’m going to walk into the kitchen and ignore you all.” Still skipping, I made my way towards the fridge and grabbed the orange juice container and a glass before pouring the orange liquid and sipping daintily. I walked back out and sat on Ted’s side.

“Libby, get offa me,” Ted growled, swatting at my leg.
“You’re on my bed,” I replied, eyes glued to the movie. “Why are we watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom?”

“Why not? And the couch is not your bed,” Ted shot back, arching a blonde eyebrow. Ted and I actually look a lot a like, we inherited our dad’s caramel colored hair, my mom’s rosy skin, fast metabolisms, and the same ski-slope nose. Our only differences are that he has dark green eyes that he got from my mom while mine are more of a dull brown and that he managed to get the tall genes from my dad and I got the short genes from my mom.

“I dunno, ’cause we watched it last night and the night before?” I winced, watching as Indiana nearly had his heart ripped out. “Let’s watch something else.”

“Like what? There is nothing else to watch!” he complained. “We’ve watched everything in this house!”

“Go rent a movie,” my dad groaned, not paying attention to our whines. “Just get a movie that I haven’t seen yet.”

“Eh, sounds like a good idea,” Ted shrugged, standing up and forcing me off him. “C’mon, shrimp, let’s go grab a flick.” Jumping up, I grabbed a pair of flip flops, and with a running start, launched myself onto Ted’s back.

“Be back soon! Giddy-up, Teddy!” I shouted, waving to my parents as Ted trudged outside.