Broken Prodigy | COMPLETED ✓

Chapter 2

Wilson's Creek Town Centre is bustling. There's more people here than I saw in one week back home. I make my way past all the shops. There's bakeries, clothing stores, cafes and pharmacies lining the entire main street.

On the corner is a big shopping centre. I had to face the tortures of it yesterday. The noise from the customers is overwhelming, and on top of that plays the radio. I glare at the building as I walk past, earning a few odd looks from passers.

So far, I've entered four bakeries and cafes, asking for work, and they're all full. Dad was right.

"Wear something that doesn't make you look like you just walked out of the rodeo," he'd said this morning.

I had ignored him, because apart from still being mad at him from last night, I found the comment quite insulting. People shouldn't judge me on my clothes. And plus, I've never owned anything but riding jeans and flannel shirts. There's nothing else I can wear!

But, with one glance at my attire, each and every shop I'd talked to had told me they don't need anymore staff. They may say they're full, but no doubt it's my clothing that causes them to shy away. No one wants a cowgirl working for them. But that's just it. I'm no cowgirl.

Just because I wear an Akubra, boots, jeans and plaid shirts doesn't mean I'm some rodeo girl. Right?

I don't care, anyway. I stop outside the last place, a restaurant called 'La deliziosa pizzeria', which, thanks to my Italian lessons from my old school, I translate to 'The delicious pizza place'. I'm surprised I remember.

I walk through the door, sounding a bell that announces my arrival. Someone calls out in Italian, but the words are too fast for me to understand, and a lady behind the counter pushes a boy my age behind the desk before hurrying off.

The boy smiles at me. He has wavy black hair that almost reaches his shoulders.

"Buongiorno," he says, not sparing a second glance at my outfit. "What can I get you today?"

"Actually, I'm not here for food. I'm looking for work."

"Oh. Sorry, but we can't really afford another person right now," he answers, and for some reason I know he's being genuine. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"What gave it away?" I ask jokingly.

"Yeah, not many people are going to welcome your taste in fashion," he chuckles. "I'm Connor, by the way. This is my family's restaurant."

"Cool. I'm Ollie," I hold my hand out. He shakes it, and seems to remember something as he pulls his hand away.

"Uh, not stereotyping or anything, but I know that the Wilson Creek Stables are looking to hire."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Connor answers. "You kinda look like the horse type girl, so..."

"Yeah, no, that's great," I tell him, not offended at all. At least Connor is helping me find a job. "Do you have their details?"

Connor rummages under the counter, then pops back up, accidentally knocking his head on the edge with an, "Ow!", then hands me a piece of paper with one hand, the other rubbing his forehead, where a red line is appearing.