Friends, Lovers, or Nothing

Once Josh and Max went back to England, I tried to put the pieces of my life back together. I wanted to be normal again. No, scratch that--I needed to be normal again, more than anything in the world.

I enjoyed time with my family, celebrating Christmas and the New Year without letting Josh cross my mind once--or at least not too many times. And with Josh gone and put out of my mind, I had time to figure out what I wanted (and needed) to do. I knew I had to figure out my plans for the following year, and that meant finding a job. I was interviewing everywhere, from Boston to New York to even a trip to Philly as a last ditch effort. But it was no use, because nowhere wanted me.

One night, after a particularly bad interview, Danielle and I had ordered a shit load of Chinese take-out, gotten some alcohol, and went to town. While I was taking another shot of tequila, Danielle scoured the internet for job postings for the two of us. “You know,” she said after biting into another egg roll, “what if you aren’t using your resources properly?”

“What do you mean by that?” I slurred, shooting back some more tequila like my life depended on it. And who knows, maybe it did.

“Have you once mentioned who your father is to any of these jackasses not hiring you? Or asked your dad if he had any connections?”

I sighed and made my way over to the couch, a drunken, sloppy mess collapsing beside Danielle. “I wanted to do it on my own, Dan. You know? I didn’t want to have to ask daddy to come to the rescue.”

Danielle laughed. “Its not asking him to rescue you, its just using your resources.”

And just like that, we made a pact that I would call him in the morning.

***

“HarperCollins Publishing House, how may I help you?”

“May I speak to Mr. Franklin please?”

I cringed at how nervous I sounded, and Danielle stiffled her laughter from across the room. I gave her the finger and returned my attention to the important call at hand.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

I cleared my throat (and hopefully my nerves) and tried to sound more professional. “My name is Peyton Klein. My father, Mr. Helyer, set up a phone interview for me to talk to Mr. Franklin today.”

I heard the shuffling of papers and a quiet sigh on the other end of the line before the receptionist spoke again. “Yes, of course. Mr. Franklin is in a meeting right now, but he should be out soon. I can put you on hold if you have the time?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect. Thank you very much.” I hardly got my thank you out before the receptionist was hitting the hold button and changing the other end of the line to some elevator music instead of her chipper voice.

“Well?” Danielle whispered, walking over to my spot on the couch.

I took the phone away from my ear and brought it down to my shoulder so I could still faintly hear the music in case Mr. Franklin came onto the line. “I’m on hold. He’s in a meeting.”

“They didn’t hang up on you though! So that has to mean something, right?”

I shrugged. Maybe it did mean something, but I wasn’t going to get my hopes up. I had done enough of that with my recent job interviews and been let down horribly.

Before I knew it, I was back on the line with Mr. Franklin while he conducted the phone interview. And then before I knew it, he was asking me if I could come to Los Angeles to have a face-to-face interview. And I was agreeing.

“Can you come next week, Miss Klein?” he asked me.

“Of course! That would be great, actually!”

“Wonderful. I’ll transfer you back to Katy and she can give you all of the details, including some hotels to stay in while you’re here.”

I thanked him profusely and assured him I would see him next week, and then I was being put back on the line with the sunny secretary. She gave me all of the information I would need, and then I was thanking her and we were hanging up.

I stared at my phone in disbelief when the conversation was over. I couldn’t believe how easy that had been, after all of my interviews from hell in the past few weeks. Now suddenly I was flying out to California for yet another interview. I must have been crazy. That was the only logical explanation.

“Well?” Danielle prodded after a few minutes of silence. “How did it go?”

“He wants me to fly out to LA for an in person interview next week,” I informed her calmly. I was still mildly in shock.

Danielle proceeded to freak out while I just sat there in shock. When I finally snapped out of it, I turned to her with a smile. “Looks like we’re going to California, Dan.”

***

For the next couple hours, Danielle and I were a flurry of action. We had tickets to buy, a hotel to book, and a rental car to find, and unfortunately the cheapest ticket we could find left in two days. It was a lot shorter notice than we would have liked, but it was also kind of a sigh of relief. I needed a change of scenery, and sticking around in Boston for an extra few days just waiting around wasn’t going to do me any good.

When we finished, Danielle collapsed on the couch in exhaustion and I followed suite. “I can’t believe we’re going to California,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and laying my head against the couch.

“I’m excited,” she smiled. “I’ve never been, have you?”

I shook my head. “I should probably call my dad and let him know.”

She nodded and got up from the couch again. I swear, the child couldn’t sit still for more than five minutes. “And Max! Let him know the good news!” she threw over her shoulder while bouncing toward the kitchen.

I laughed lightly and shook my head before picking up my phone and dialing my father. “Hello?”

“Hi dad,” I smiled. “Are you busy?”

“‘ello sweetheart! Of course I’m not busy. How’d the interview go?”

“Fantastic, actually. I have a face-to-face interview next week. Danielle and I are flying out to California in two days and then we’ll be there for a week.”

“Wait, what’s today?”

I pulled the phone from my ear and checked. “January 18th,” I told him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he chirped. “But I do have to go now, sweetie. Call me if you need anything!”

“I will. Love you, dad.”

“Love you too!” he replied before we both ended the call.

I got off the couch then and headed into the kitchen with Danielle. “What did he say?” he asked before popping a pretzel into her mouth from the open bag on the counter. My stomach growled at the site, which made me realize we hadn’t eaten all day. Rough.

I reached over and grabbed a handful of the salty snack as well before answering. “He was happy for me, and glad he made the call.”

Her face contorted in confusion as she slowly popped another pretzel into her mouth. “Max?” she questioned, and I laughed but shook my head.

“My dad, stupid. I haven’t called Max yet.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t sure why not, really. It wasn’t that I hadn’t spoken to Max much, because I had. At least once since he had left to wish him a merry Christmas, and again on New Years Eve. But there was something in my gut, some feeling that was making me not want to call Max.

“Don’t you think you should?” Danielle prodded.

I shrugged again, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t feel like it right now. I’m starving, shouldn’t we get dinner or something?” I asked, changing the topic to something that I new would keep Danielle’s attention for a few minutes.

She sighed, seemingly to drop the topic, and nodded. “Let’s go get a pizza or something.”

***

“Peyton,” she scolded me later that night when we got back home after grabbing dinner in the city. “Pick up the phone and call him.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t now, Dan. He’s probably either drunk, or asleep, and neither of which I feel like dealing with. I’ll call him in the morning.”

She glared at me for a moment while I relaxed into the couch. I ignored her stares and picked my book up off the table that I had been in the process of reading and started again. Danielle could glare all she wanted; i wasn’t going to deal with my brother tonight.

I heard her sigh, and I ignored that. Then I felt the couch sink in as she took a seat next to me. I ignored that, too. It was when I heard her messing around with her phone and then the ringing of another phone that alarmed me. I snapped my head up and stared at her, a smug grin on her face and her cell phone up to her ear.

I just watched as she had a conversation with my brother, telling him all about the terrible months of interviews and not having any luck getting a job. She told him about my dad and his offer to call some of his connections for me. And then she ended with my interview at HarperCollins and how we would be flying out there in a few days to spend a week in California for my face-to-face interview.

When Miss Talks-A-Lot finally finished her story, she was smiling and nodding and listening to Max, who was probably congratulating me on the other end. And then she was handing the phone over to me.

“Bitch,” I hissed, snatching the phone from her. She just laughed and walked away.

“Hi Max,” I answered tiredly.

“This is so great, Peyton! I’m so proud of you!” he exclaimed, sounding like he could hardly contain himself.

I laughed and thanked him. “You sound like a hyperactive puppy right now, Max. “Why are you so excited? I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

“Oh, you’re a shoe-in for that Peyt. I’m just happy you’re going out when you are!”

I knit my eyebrows together. “Why?”

“It’s perfect timing, love! We’re heading out to LA this week to start recording our next album!” Max exclaimed.

It was like the universe was out to get me.