Fight For You

Chapter Three - Jobs and Fights

I walked back into my apartment in complete despair. I dreaded having to call my dad and tell him I had to come back home, and telling Ashley and Mr Greggs would be even worse. I pushed the door to the lobby open roughly stomping my way in.

"How did your job interview go?" Ms. Smith confronted me by the mail boxes.

"How on earth did you know about that?" I asked in shock. I was almost impressed at the depth of her gossiping skills.

She shrugged at me and I eyed her long flowery dress, her greying hair wrapped up into a tight bun. She looked especially nice. "I thought it was common information that you're unemployed."

I let out a groan of frustration, walking past her, "Well, I didn't get it! Are you happy now Ms. Smith?" I shouted.

I heard her mutter something about hormonal twenty year olds as I began my trek up the stairs when my phone rang. Grumbling I picked it up, "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Daniel from earlier."

I paused, "Oh, hi, Daniel."

"I just wanted to let you know, I talked it over with my brother and he agreed that you can have the job." He stated.

"What?" I yelled a little loudly. "Is this a joke?" I asked my eyes narrowing. It would be just like this punk to play a prank on me.

"It's not a joke," He said slowly like I was hard of hearing, "Can you start tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Of course! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"9 AM," he confirmed before adding, "Er, you seem like the type to get here early. Don't get here early."

"9 AM," I repeated. "I'll be there. Thank you!"

I hung up and squeaked to myself for a moment. I leaned over the railing, "Ms. Smith!" I called out knowing she was listening. She was always listening.

"Yes?" Came the quick reply.

"I got the job!" I said enthusiastically.

"Hallelujah," she stated in monotone.

Well, now I remembered why Mr. Greggs was my favourite. He would show some enthusiasm at the very least. I ran up a couple of flights to his door and knocked incessantly.

"Goddamnit, just wait a minute," he grumbled in annoyance while I continued to knock on his door. "What?" He shouted, opening the door, the stench of cigarettes reaching my nose abruptly. Upon seeing my face he calmed down.

"I got the job!" I squealed, hugging his frail frame.

"Great." He replied tapping my back slowly. I pursed my lips. This wasn't exactly the enthusiasm I was expecting.

"Thanks," I muttered half heartedly. I'm sure Ashley would make up for this when she finally woke up at 11 PM for her night shift.

I left Mr. Greggs and returned to my apartment to research for work tomorrow. It took me thirty minutes of searching in places I hadn't looked at in years to find my old, buried spinal cord injury notes.

I jotted down key information to remember like how depression was highly likely after going through a spinal cord injury, about how physical exercise was crucial, and how the patient needed to learn how to cope with a new way of life. I double checked my statistics about the recovery period and was pleased with myself when I realized that the two year recovery was in fact, true. I was hoping to get more information as to the nature and extent of the injury tomorrow from Daniel or his brother, but I also didn't want to appear overbearing and push Daniel away.