The Green Ticket

Chapter 3



The weekend passed like it usually did: relaxed, uneventful, and full of drinks. Lila spent most of the day with Joel, so I tackled items left on my weekly to-do list: start marketing project, schedule a haircut, and finish laundry. My to-do lists were my best friends. I had daily, weekly and monthly to-do lists that I couldn’t live without. My friends liked to poke fun at me for them, but I loved being organized.

Saturday night I attended a house party with Carmen, Emma, and Hannah. Hannah Lovington was the fifth girl in our group, the classic overachiever. Hannah was not one to imbibe often, so she usually acted as our DD when we went to parties. Her father was a neurosurgeon and her mother a psychiatrist, so she had a lot of expectations to live up to. She was attending Kaufman to get her generals out of the way, then transferring on to med school at the University of Iowa. When Hannah decided to let loose and party––which happened about once every other month––she was a blast. We still loved her even when she wasn’t in Hardcore Hannah mode (she hated the nickname, said it made her sound like she was making a porno) and we understood why she didn’t hit the bottle as hard as the four of us. A surgeon and psych for parents? Daunting.

Lila and I both had off from Tastie’s on Saturday, which meant we had to work Sunday. Our shift wasn’t bad that day, 11-4, and I even dragged Lila to the gym with me that night. I didn’t know which was harder–– getting her to the gym or getting her to make it onto a machine once we were there.

“Lila, get your ass on the treadmill. You can still read the magazine while you walk.” I was jogging lightly on one of the five treadmills Kaufman had in their student gym. The place was quiet–– most students probably still recovering from their weekends and frantically trying to finish homework for Monday morning classes. Only one other girl was stationed in the back corner, doing sun salutations on a yoga mat.

Lila was lying on the carpeted floor on her back, reading last month’s People magazine. She was supposedly also doing crunches while reading, but I had counted maybe two so far. “I will, I will. I just want to finish this article. Did you know Lola Haloshi is pregnant? How could someone that skinny be knocked up?” She continued to read the article, engrossed about how the “allegedly” anorexic supermodel could be with child.

“What happened to the workout schedule we drew up for you? Are you following it at all?”

“Yes! I took a thirty-minute walk with Joel around campus last night and checked it off the calendar.”

“What about your strength training? I thought Joel was going to accompany you to the weight room yesterday after your brunch date.”

Lila groaned and got to her feet, reluctantly stepping on the treadmill and keying in her weight, age, and desired length of workout. “We got into an argument at brunch, so I did some shopping to cool myself down instead.”

“But you won’t be able to check that off your calendar!” I had helped Lila make a fitness calendar, similar to the one I had made for myself. I scheduled cardio days, strength days and workouts for Pilates and yoga. I marked days off as well so I didn’t overexert myself. I had the day’s color coordinated and left a little box next to each workout so I could check them off as I completed them. Lila called it my “anally organized workout death calendar.” But since she wanted to drop some pounds, she asked me to make one for her. I was disappointed she was already wandering off schedule. Disappointed, but not really shocked.

“My calendar will survive. I’ll try to make it up today,” Lila said, barely shuffling her feet on the treadmill. She flipped another magazine page. Staying up to date with all things Hollywood was important to her. She wanted to be informed at all times, just in case she were to get discovered in little ole Des Moines. That way, she could spout off all her knowledge of fashion, baby names, and celebrity hookups and land her dream job.

“I wasn’t going to go to the weight room today, but I can take a yoga mat down with me while you lift,” I offered, upping my speed on the treadmill. Trying to motivate my friend to do the same.

Lila didn’t take the hint. She continued at her snail pace, not even breathing heavy or breaking a sweat yet. “Hey, did you ever apply for the manager job at the spa?” Nice change of subject.

“I got my résumé all ready to go. I wanted to get Hannah to proof it for me before I send it off. I have it down for tomorrow to get it emailed. But I really don’t think I’m even going to get an interview. Who hires a college student to run a spa and salon?”

“I bet it happens more than you think. They can probably get away with paying you a bit less if you don’t have a degree yet. Then by the time you do graduate, you can get a raise and they have a fab employee who knows all the ropes already, so they won’t be losing any money from the deal. It’s basically a win-win for everyone.”

I thought that over. Why didn’t I think of that? I was the business major after all. “Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better. The worst they can say is no, right?” I continued without letting her answer. “And maybe I can at least get an interview, get some practice for my interviewing skills. That’s never a bad thing.”

“Right. I learned in class last semester that you’re supposed to go on a job interview like twice a year or something, even if you’re happy with your job. It helps keep those skills alive. Or something. Maybe it was more times a year. I don’t really remember. But anyway, good plan. I say you can count on at least getting an interview.”

“You don’t have the vibe that I could get the job?”

Lila paused, putting her index finger in the air like the (non-existent) wind would give her the answers. “I’m sure if your résumé is good and you fly through the interview like you always do, you could be a definite contender.”

I smiled while continuing my run. I knew Lila was saying that as my friend, not as some hocus-pocus psychic. She was always one of my biggest supporters, and I was grateful for that. While Lila came from a close-knit family –– mom and dad happily married, two younger sisters that were close in age to her –– she understood my family complications. When I couldn’t make it to Seattle to visit Alicia and my family over holidays or school breaks, Lila took me back to Okana to stay with her family. The Medlin’s were like my surrogate family. And I loved them for it.

We finished up on the treadmills–– me wiping sweat from my forehead, Lila still not breathing heavy–– and made our way down to the weight room. I loved that Kaufman promoted health and wellness on campus. We had a workout room with plenty of treadmills, ellipticals, stationary bikes and a full weight room. In addition to those, we had a back room that had a TV and DVD player, and students could either bring their own workout DVDs or use the ones Kaufman supplied. There was also a gym that was used for basketball and volleyball games, and intramurals were popular on campus. The lounge on campus gave nutritional value of foods that were served, and only one pop machine was on campus.

Once we got back to Wacker and showered, I texted Hannah and asked her to come up to our room. Hannah lived by herself on the top floor of our dorm, where all the rich kids resided. No sharing a shower for her. She got her own bedroom, living room, kitchen, and full bathroom. Oh, to have parents with cash. Lots of cash. We could never hold that against her, though. Hannah was too sweet to dislike.

While waiting for her to arrive, I took a call from Alicia, who called every Sunday night regardless of what was happening in our lives. “Hello, sister,” I said.

“Hi, honey. How is everything with you?” Alicia sounded upbeat, as usual, and I could just imagine her red hair curled to perfection and her green eyes bright even though she chased five kids around all day. My sister and I could pass for twins, if you ignore the ten-year age difference: identical red hair, though mine was almost to my waist and always frizzy, whereas Alicia’s was just past her shoulders and always shiny; same green eyes and were both exactly 5’5” and weighed around 110 pounds. Did I mention she had given birth to five children–– two of them twins? Maybe after I had kids my hair would finally be smooth. And I would still be skinny. I can be hopeful.

“Everything is good here. Lila and I just got home from the gym a bit ago. We both worked at Tastie’s today.”

“How is your work?”

I paused, debating whether to tell her about wanting to apply for the manager job. But I didn’t want to get my hopes up any more than they already were, and telling another person–– especially my cheerleader sister ––would only crush me more when ––I mean if–– I didn’t get the job.

“It was okay. Short shift. Friday night was one of the best tip nights yet, though.”

“And how are your classes?”

“Good. Music Appreciation is more boring than I thought it would be. I thought we would be, I don’t know, listening to music, but all we do really is just study the history of it.”

“Is it too late to change your elective?”

“I think we can by next week, but I’ll probably just stick with it. There really isn’t anything else I’m too interested in.”

Alicia and I chatted for a few more minutes about our usual topics, and then Carly got on the phone to say hi. Carly was seven, and I was pretty sure she was a fashion model in training. Alicia said that she had taken to stealing her digital camera and taking pictures of herself, and always strutting around the house, treating it as a makeshift runway in Milan. Alicia has thought about putting her into pageants, and I think the following year would be the first time Carly could finally get the go-ahead to compete. I would definitely be there to see my precious niece go for the crown if Alicia did decide to okay it.

Alicia and Craig’s other four children weren’t divas like Carly. Candace, the oldest at nine, loved to read and had very high emotions. I swear, if one of her brothers or sisters got hurt, Candace felt their pain and cried along with them. She was fairly quiet, and I think she took her role as the big sister pretty seriously. Their youngest daughter, four year old Caitlin, was the complete opposite of Carly. She was the tomboy and loved soccer. She refused pink clothing or wearing her red hair in pigtails like Carly often showcased.

Then there were the boys, Todd and Tyler, identical twins. While all three girls got the red hair and green eyes from their mother, the boys got their looks from their dad with dark hair and eyes. They were two, and it was no joke when people said they had the terrible twos. I had no idea how my sister handled them, especially with three other kids vying for her attention and rides in their brand new Lexus RX. Alicia would never be caught dead driving a mini-van. Neither would I for that matter.

After talking to Carly, who dominated the conversation about her new pink glitter shoes, Alicia got back on the line. “The other girls are still playing outside and the boys are in the bathtub. Maybe next week you’ll have more kids to talk to.”

“That’s okay. My friend just got up here to help me with some, errr, homework, so I need to get going anyway.” I waved to Hannah as she walked in. She looked very Hannah-like, wearing brown cords, a simple white sweater and brown flats, with her wavy blonde-ish hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were cornflower blue (according to her), and she always had an innocent look on her face. That was our Hannah. Innocent, slightly boring, but smart as a whip and a great friend. I disconnected with my sister, and we got to work on fixing up my résumé.

It was after eight when Hannah and I finally agreed that my résumé was perfect. She made me change the entire format, the bullets I had used, and rephrase many of my job descriptions. “Scheduling reservations for guests” under my hotel job became “Provided excellent customer service to all guests, handling all phone calls in a friendly and timely manner, and checking in guests with a positive attitude.”

“Thanks for all your help, dear. You’ve worked wonders,” I told Hannah after clicking ‘save’ for the last time on my résumé document.

“Not a problem. I hope you get the interview! I’m not a big spa person, but I would definitely come get something done if you were the manager.”

“For half off!” Lila shouted from the kitchen, where I could hear popcorn kernels popping in the microwave.

“You wish!” I yelled back, smiling at my roommate as she came into the living room holding a giant pink bucket filled with buttered popcorn in one hand and a full wine glass in the other.

“How many calories does popcorn have?” she questioned, taking a seat on the chair opposite me and Hannah on the couch. I set my laptop on the floor, clicking ‘save’ one more time on my résumé to reassure myself, and settled in for a nice chat.

“It’s not the unhealthiest thing for you to eat, but certainly worse than some fruits or vegetables. Do you have butter and salt on it?” Hannah asked her.

Lila paused with her hand halfway to her mouth. “Duh! That’s the only way I can eat popcorn.”

“You could cut a lot more calories from it if you didn’t add salt and used low-fat butter instead. That spray butter is supposed to be pretty good.”

Lila shoved one handful of popcorn in her mouth, followed by another. Then a gulp of wine. “Sure, right. What about wine? I heard it’s good for you.”

“Red wine is the best; it’s good for your heart. But that’s one or two glasses, not the whole bottle in one night.”

“This is only my third glass!” Lila protested.

“How have you drank three already? We haven’t been home that long. I’m still on my first,” I said, holding up my glass as proof. Lila had bought some decorators earlier in the year when we decided we were turning into winos, and mine had pink and purple butterflies wrapped around the stem. Lila sported green butterflies on hers. Hannah was drinking a Powerade, no decorator needed.

“I don’t know. This wine just goes down so smooth. I’m glad we splurged on a nice bottle this time.”

“The four-dollar wine did not taste that bad!” Even though Alicia sent me money each month, I didn’t think she wanted me to blow it all on expensive wine. I budgeted carefully, and had been trying to build up my savings account for months.

“Yeah, it wasn’t terrible,” Lila conceded, right as her phone started to ring. “Joel. Again. Are you guys keeping track of the phone calls?”

“I think this is call seven. Why don’t you just answer the phone?” Hannah asked.

“Because I told him I was busy tonight and not coming over. He needs to learn that I’m not at his beck and call each and every night. Shut up!” she bellowed at the phone, hiding it in the couch cushions once it started again. We could only faintly hear the muffled chime.

“And we wonder why we’re single, right, Hannie?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Right. No offense, Lils, but you don’t make being in a relationship look like that much fun.”

“I don’t? No, I guess I don’t. I’m sorry, guys. He’s just been so overbearing lately. I don’t know what his deal is. But I’m trying not to let it bother me. Let’s talk about something else. Han–– what do you look for in the perfect guy? Maybe it’s time I put my matchmaking skills to work.”

“Um, no thanks. I didn’t know you had any ‘matchmaking skills.’” Hannah said as she made quotes around the words.

“Well, not really, but I bet I could if I put my mind to it. Come on; let me find you the perfect man!”

“I don’t have time for a relationship. I’m busy.”

“Yeah, busy studying.”

“Come on, ladies, no need to get into a fight over it.” I felt the need to interject. “If Hannah doesn’t want a boyfriend now, she doesn’t want a boyfriend. And you can’t magically produce someone for her. She’ll find the right guy in her own time, someone who loves homework as much as she does.” I threw Hannah a wink as she chucked a throw pillow my way.

“You guys make it sound like I’m so boring all the time. Am I that bad?”

“No, you’re not. Sorry if it sounded like I was making fun of you. That wasn’t my intention. Scouts honor.” Lila held up her hand. “I think I just want to concentrate on someone else’s love life other than mine. If you haven’t noticed––it pretty much blows.”

We discussed Lila and Joel for a while longer–– getting nowhere on the matter––before Hannah bailed to head back to her room and get some shut eye. Lila downed another glass of wine, putting her at four for the night, and I had a midnight (well, ten o’clock) snack of a bowl of cereal, before we both headed to bed ourselves. My to-do list for the next day read: thirty minutes of cardio, schedule eye doc appt, send off résumé.