It's Family Business

Chapter 18: It's nice to meet you...Martin...Bradshaw

Chapter 18|It's nice to meet you...Martin...Bradshaw

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Crying in the bathroom is probably as "quarter life crisis" as one can get.

Though highly unsanitary to sit on the closed toilet seat and sob your bodily fluids out, crying in a tiny square cubicle on a Wednesday afternoon made me rethink my way of life. At some point I got so frustrated by trying to figure out whether I had a life, I ended up wailing all over again.

"Hey?" A small voice called out from behind the cubicle door mid bawling. I hiccuped. "Are you okay in there?"

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when I realised it was just some lower year and that if I scurried away from having another breakdown no one would find out about my weak moment.

I cleared my throat. "Y-yes, sorry, I'm fine." I needed to lie again. God really isn't going to be pleased with me. "I'm just re-watching the sad scene in Titanic," I paused, making a face at my dumb lie.

I'm pretty sure the girl was contemplating whether asking me if I was alright was a good idea.

"...oh," her voice trailed off, she sounded like a bond woman - so sexy. "Well if it's anything to make you feel better, I always say he turned into a merman and is living happily ever after with his mermaid girlfriend who loves him and won't take up a whole door without him,"

I suppressed a snort and wiped my eyes. "Thanks, that did make me feel a little better. I appreciate it...?" I trailed off in hopes that she would provide her name. I kinda did feel better. It made the tragedy of seeing his handsome face drown much easier. Ugh, now I wanted to be a mermaid, but I guess swimming is still excercise and I would literally end up drowning. Which would be scientifically impossible. But hey, mum didn't have the quote saying 'I'm possible' up for nothing on her facebook page.

"Dakota," the girl answered with humor in her gorgeous voice. "My name's Dakota Harding," Dakota was such a cool name. Plus she had the same name as the queen Dakota Johnson herself. My is that woman heart-stopping. I instantly liked this girl. We were really bonding I could tell.

"Well it's nice to meet you Dakota Harding," then I evaluated whether I should tell her my name and thought if I still wanted to keep a shred of my already dead dignity I shouldn't. But I felt like the moment would be so much more cooler if I told her my name. You know, make the meet-cute a little more...cute.

"Whats you're name?" She asked. Aw shucks. Now I really have to tell her.

Unless...

"Oh, I'm..." I looked around the cubicle to find some sort of link to a decent name. But I was literally on the shitster. I glanced at the logo on the toilet. "...Bradshaw," then I looked at her Doc martins under the door and winced. "Martin Bradshaw," I wanted to flush myself down the toilet.

"It's nice to meet you...Martin...Bradshaw," she dod not sound at all convinced. "Quite an unusual name for a girl, no?"

"My name's quite popular in Cambodia," I winced again.

   I swear I heard her laugh, but she smothered it with a cough. "Riiight,"

   "Martin really is foreign," I am going to kill myself. I'm going to do it and it's all my fault.

   This time she did laugh and I couldn't help but smile. "Absolutely, be sure to tell me if I'm pronouncing it wrong, Martin's a very complicated name,"

   I snorted. "Marteen, you gotta stretch the 'i', give it a little more spice y'know?"

   "My bad, Marteen," She then paused briefly and I held my breath. "You're such a bad liar,"

   I released the breath I very well knew I was holding and pointed my middle finger at the door. "It seems I've lost my lying streak lately,"

Dakota giggled. "I guess it's good in a way, makes you a better person,"

I chuckled. "Doubt it, but for now I'll take it,"

"Well it's been great talking to you Martie," she clapped. "Maybe we should do this another time,"

"I'll be looking forward to it Dakota," I replied. I already know I want this woman to be my future kids godmother. She didn't even pester me for my real name, or maybe she thought I was a weirdo and was better off not knowing. Either way, I love her now.

Then the bell rang and I almost had an aneurysm.

"Shit, I'm going to be late for science," Dakota muttered. "See you then, same time, same cubicle Martie,"

   "Wouldn't miss it," then for good measure I added. "Good luck,"

"Thanks, I need it!" She exclaimed as I heard her run out the door. When it slammed shut I sighed into my palm.

That was the most stupidest thing I've ever done. Actually hold that thought.

"I guess it's time for me to stop crying huh?" I stood up whilst looking down at the toilet. "Till next time Bradshaw and Co," then for good measure and because I thought me and the toilet had this connection I flushed it.

That little amout of wasted energy was for a good cause.

When I stopped reading all the "I love Francis Dean and want to have his babies" or "Giovanni is my husband," scribbles on the light grey cubicle walls, I snickered at some, taking pictures of them when I recognized the handwriting from some of my classmates to use as blackmail.

I exited the stall and looked at the mess in the mirror.

My uniform was still flawless, my chin and lips were as smoochable as ever, my forehead looked a little big, but I blamed the lighting and when I thought picking out all the goods things would help distract me from the atrocity on my face, I was so very very wrong.

I looked like a demon. Like an emo just farted on my face and scared all the evil sprits away from the horrid black smudginess surrounding my eyes. The smudges were like two ginormous black holes in the centre of my face. I looked like The Nun.

I hope this mascara isn't waterproof.