Chapter Two

"Up early aren't we?"

I slightly jolt and turn to see my sister sitting on the back door step, dressed in some grey joggers and a hooded jumper with 'Harvard' written in bold red along the middle. She never went to Harvard of course, we lived in the middle of England. Not to say she wasn't intelligent, as she was quite academic, but I would be lying if I said I wouldn't be surprised that she travelled six thousand miles in a day and was still back for tea, without me even knowing.

"You know how it is" I reply, gesturing my lit cigarette towards her, "gotta have my daily dose of chemicals".

She chuckles slightly, pulling out her vape from her jumper pocket.

"I know the feel" she replies, taking a deep breath in, and exhaling a cloud of flavoured vapor. Watermelon I think. I didn't think to ask.

We spoke about regular daily things, what we were up to, our plans for the day, university essays, things like that.

"I don't know how you finished them so quickly" she laments, letting out another flavoured exhale, slightly more stressed than before, "this last psychology essay is going to be the death of me"

"I don't think mum would be pleased if you up and died El" I reply.

We both laugh.

I take another cigarette out of its box and light it. "Besides, English is much more...well it's just 'read book and give opinion', definitely a lot more straightforward than reading paper after paper of brain s**t"

"Brain s**t?" She recoils sarcastically, "do you think of my education choice that lowly Mark?"

"Oh do forgive my tongue, miss" I reply, slowly bowing, meeting her sarcastic levels. Her smile tells me I succeeded.

"I suppose you're right" she begins "but even still, you also finished your creative writing pieces quickly too!"

I chuckle

"You give me too much credit yknow?" I take another stiff drag from my cig. "At least you have an end path with it all"

El leans in, a curious expression now resting on her face.

"End path?"

"Yknow, an end path! A 'this is what jobs I can get with this' path. I doubt putting 'wrote poetry in university' on my CV will get me anything more than a position as a McDonald's cashier..." I trail off. Is that what this is all leading to? A grey shirt with a highly saturated M embroidered on it, shouting out order numbers to wrangle up the owner of a large Big Mac? My chest tightens at the thought. It's only upon the realization of the now worried shuffle of my sister on the step beside me that I snap back with a quick smile and retort, "besides, you'd be more suited for that position anyways".

"Um, excuse me?" El turns with a grin, half joking around, with the other half being 'you seriously suggested that?'. I can only laugh.

"What? You could be on the front lines, reading body language and the amount of stress wrinkles on a person's face to give the cashiers a heads up! You'd be a valuable member of the team!"

"I do psychology Mark, I'm not Sherlock f*****g Holmes"

We both laughed, for what felt like the twentieth time in five minutes.

"Right", El tucked her vape back into her pocket, slapped her hands on her knees and stood up, "I better crack on and bang this essay out, wouldn't want to miss your big night!"

"Big night..?"

Oh.

Oh s**t.

One of my poems was recently accepted into a university curated anthology, and I was set to read it out in front of other poets and novelists at the publishing event. But, that's today? Jesus I knew I was scatter-brained, but this truly takes the cake. I thought it was in July! F**k, does that mean it is July? Do I need a print-out with me? A speech? Reading it out will be bad enough, but the social aspect is going to-

"Hey", El knelt down to my eye level, her hand gently planted on my shoulder. She takes her index finger and presses it against my forehead. "Get out of there, ok? You're going to do great"

I give a nervous smile.

"Thanks El".

She smiles back at me, and stands up again before walking off.

"Oh, and change out of those clothes!" She adds before leaving. "You know how mum feels about smoking".