Loving Augustine Urban

Two

Two
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Jessica and I left the store around seven in the evening, then drove back to our dorm. I used to have an old yellow truck from high school, but my younger sister, Poppy, claimed it once I graduated. So, I'd began saving up for another one. By the end of the month or in two months, I hoped to snag a used car.

I wasn't the wealthiest girl around; heck, I'd been working odd jobs all my life to help my mom, Michelle, support the family. Thankfully, I landed a half-scholarship for college. As for my dad, he remarried, and only God knows where he is now. We've learned to think less about him and bury those memories.

On our way, we made a pit stop at Frosty Spoon, an ice cream parlor just outside campus that surprisingly served nearly everything. Finding a table, we ordered fries, cheeseburgers, sodas, and settled into a moment of silence.

After a minute, Jessica looked up from her phone and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Good. Good Riddance," I spat. I was more angry than heartbroken at this point.

She laughed a little and passed me her phone. "Take a look at this. Didn't you say you wanted a new job?"

Working as a cashier right after college no longer appealed to me. After two years of the same job, I was over it. The website offered a list of part-time and full-time jobs open to Coasuta citizens. Jessica and I, chomping on fries and burgers, sifted through the options, weighing the pros and cons to pinpoint the one that suited me best. Data entry, marketing, cashiering (nope, not again), babysitting, tutoring, receptionist, cleaning drive...

"Tutoring or babysitting," Jessica suggested.

"Right," I agreed, continuing to skim through the list.

Reading aloud the descriptions, time schedules, and grade levels, we went from one to the next until something peculiar caught our eyes.

"Urgent!

Babysitting a four-year-old princess for three hours starting from 3:30 to 6:30 pm. Plus tutoring. Just help her with spelling and some games. Payment can be negotiated but will most probably be $40 each for the first two hours and $30 for the next one hour.

Address - ComeAtMeBaby Street (you know I'm kidding). You'll seriously, seriously find us at 1846 Walnut Lane, 2nd Jefferson St., House No. 5, Landmark - Jefferson's Public Library. Job open for a limited time.

You won't get another opportunity like this. For further details, contact MisterPuddinPants@gmail.com

Best regards, PuddinPants"

"What the fuck?" Jessica laughed.

"I don't know what just happened."

"But it sounds perfect to me," Jessica offered thoughtfully. "I mean, with the time schedule and everything, you might not get another one like that. The pay's not bad either. Many college students will probably be pitching for that. When was it posted?"

"Couple hours ago. Should I go for it?"

"Yeah?"

"But it sounds so creepy."

Nonetheless, I fired off an email to MisterPuddinPants, introducing myself as a college student, sharing my name, and expressing my interest in the job. Within minutes, my phone chimed with a reply.

MisterPuddinPants@gmail.com : "Are you decent?"

"What?" I raised my eyebrows over the phone, a bit flustered.