2 Chapter 2:Ten Years Earlier

"I just wanted to do something different, Hayden. I hate my job; it's not what I went to school for, and I don't want to continue the same grind for the rest of my life."

"So, what, you just up and quit and decided to become an author?" Hayden, as usual, was the voice of reason. She was the rational one of the two of us, planned every damn thing, and never flew by the seat of her pants.

"What do I have to lose? It's not like I have a husband or a family. If I'm going to do it, doesn't now seem like the perfect time?"

"No, dumbass. Quitting your job with no way to pay your bills does not seem like the perfect time for anything. If you want to be a writer, write in your spare time and quit your job when you can actually make something off whatever it is you write."

I refused to acknowledge any validity in her point. It was my life; I was going against the grain. Seizing the day. Carpe diem.

"I have savings. You're not going to be stiffed on the rent."

"Callie, we live in a shithole; I'm not worried about the rent. I'm wondering what the hell got you on this insane kick."

I shrugged, knowing she wasn't going to let me off that easily.

Raising her brow, she waited for a response.

"Midlife crisis?" I jested.

"You're not even thirty. Try again."

I threw my arms in the air for dramatic effect. "Exactly! I'm almost thirty years old, working in a dead-end job, doing nothing with my life. I have a Masters of Fine Arts in Writing from Sarah Lawrence, Hayden. It's not like I don't have the skills. Why not try to be something great?"

She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. "So you woke up this morning and decided you were going to be an author? You went in, and not only quit your job but didn't give any notice, and then asked them to mail you your final check?" If she lifted her eyebrows any higher, they'd touch her hairline.

I raised my shoulders in a yeah-I-guess shrug.

"Ugh, you're insufferable, Callie. Do you know the first thing about writing a novel or getting it published?"

"I can figure it out. As I mentioned, I do have a degree in...dum de dum dum," I sang out, "that's right, writing."

"What? That's the dumbest thing I've heard you say next to your quitting your job with no fucking plan."

"You're just going to have to trust me on this, Hayden, and hopefully, support my dream."

"Support a dream you decided to have roughly ten hours ago?" Her hands flew into the air in surrender. "Fine. You want support. I support you." She stomped off down the hall, slammed the door, and then opened it again to scream, "But I don't have to like it!"