Young

Chapter One: Wake Up Call

Throughout the entirety of my existence I've never found a truth greater than this: mornings suck. Like, seriously, how am I expected to get up at five-thirty in the morning and act like a functional human being? The answer, of course, is that I'm not.

So today I've decided not to be a functional human being. Today I will be as dysfunctional and embarrassing and messed up as I need to be in order to make it through the day. Because that is who I am and I will continue to be that person no matter who sees me.

Though I probably shouldn't act so messed up around my fathers boss, the CEO of Industrial Scientific. Well, he's not necessarily Dad's direct boss. But he is in charge . . . of everything.

"Wake up!" Dad calls. "We leave at six-twenty!"

My eyes flutter open, revealing a room illuminated only by a string of fairy lights, a pink lava lamp, and a purple, three-foot Christmas tree I refuse to take down even though it's almost summer. It takes me a moment to realize where I am and what is happening. Then, everything floods through my brain all at once: today is Take Your Child To Work Day and I'm up at five-thirty in the morning because I'm expected to go. And to act like a functional human being. Lovely.

I scoot out of bed and stumble to my desk. Cringing at the outfit laid out for me, I slip on the the striped t-shirt and bland pants. Dad came into my room last night, face full of purpose and authority, then went through my closet, censoring half of my wardrobe whilst picking out what I could wear to his work today. In the end I was left only with a pair of skinny jeans and three tops to choose from.

Once I'm dressed I slip into my bathroom and prepare myself. Once my teeth are brushed and my hands and face are washed, I stare into the mirror. "You can do this," I murmur words of encouragement to myself. "It's just a few kids. You won't even be around most of them. You'll be okay. Just stay in the back of the group and don't speak."

I step back and look at my reflection. My short hair is pulled into what I like to call my rat tail. There are deep shadows under my chocolate brown eyes, signs of my lack of sleep. I turn on the faucet once more and splash another handful of water onto my face. It won't hide how exhausted I am but it may wake me up a bit.

I finish up in the bathroom and open the door. As soon as I've stepped into the hallway, Tango is jumping into my arms and licking my face. "Down boy!" I laugh. Tango is an enormous golden doodle who thinks he's a lap dog. "Come on buddy! Let's go see Daddy, yeah?"

Tango barks in return and we start to walk upstairs, where I'm greeted by the scent of coffee. Dylan is slouched against the counter with a Pop Tart in his hands and crumbs clinging to his face. I turn away from him and pick my book off of the microwave, flipping to where I last was.

"O, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo!"

I roll my eyes. Juliet acts like Romeo is some sort of God. How is it that a thirteen-year-old girl can look at a boy and think that he's perfect? I understand infatuation and the pretense of love but I've never gotten how a girl can say three words to a guy and automatically think she's been blessed.

Dad comes into the kitchen and hugs me. "Yuck!" He wrinkles his nose. "You smell like dog!"

I stick my tongue out at him. "That's because we have a dog," I quip. "A very stupid dog who likes to hug people." I look back to Tango who's smiling at me, his tongue sticking between his teeth, dripping drool.

"You should put some perfume on or something," Dad suggests.

"Why?" I question. "I don't care how I smell."

"What if there are cute boys?" Dad asks. "They won't talk to you because you smell bad."

I want to roll my eyes again but I'm afraid that if I do it too much they'll roll straight out of their sockets. Still, I can't disagree with him. As torturous as this day will be for me, a cute boy may be just what I need. And he's right; if I smell like dog none of these hypothetical guys will want anything to do with me.

"Fine," I huff. I trudge back downstairs and pull out some surfer chick perfume Maria got me for my birthday last year. I spritz it on my wrist first and sniff. Not too bad. I continue to spray it over my body, fitting in at least three or four squirts. When I walk back upstairs I jump onto the counter and settle in with my book.

"How can you read at this time?" Maria asks, her Latina accent thin after years of being in America. "If I read this early I wouldn't be able to process anything that was happening."

I shrug. I'm interested in the material, I suppose. Or perhaps it's because I have nothing better to do on the bus rides to school so I spend most mornings reading. After all, my bus partner refuses to speak to me and my MP3 player broke about a month ago. I have no other choice.

My eyes flit back to the page and I continue to read. After about ten minutes Dad and Dylan reappear and are ready to go. I pick my Converse up by the front door and pull them on over my socks. Next thing I know we're on our way to Industrial Scientific.

Chapter Two: Introductions

"Oh yeah!" Dad hollers. "Now this is a song you need to blast!"

He cranks up the radio but Maria quickly chastises him. "Tom!" she exclaims. "It's six in the morning! You can't play music that loud!"

Dad isn't listening though; he's too busy headbanging and singing "It's time to party!" to hear anything Maria is trying to say to him. I smile softly at the scene of Dad letting loose. He's always been more of the joking type but these past few months the stress of work and school has gotten to him, washing away his humor.

When the song is over Dad turns down the volume back down. Maria sighs with relief and I return to my book, ignoring everything but the sound of Romeo's voice playing in my head. I get so deep into the literature that I don't even hear it when Maria says that we've arrived. The only thing that pulls me out of my reverie is the slamming of the car door as Dylan stomps out. He's always so angry.

I unbuckle my seat belt and exit the car, being sure to grab my book before I leave. Dad parked on the far end of the lot which means it's a long walk to the building. Looking at it from this distance though, I see how beautiful it really is.

The building is black from head to toe. Granite covers most sides in large panels, but the area looking over the Parkway is filled with sleek, tinted glass. I can into the third and fourth floor from here and I watch eagerly as people bumble around, making and repairing pieces of equipment.

Industrial Scientific is a large company but it's main purpose is fairly simple: make gas detectors.

A normal person might find it boring but I love to see the circuit boards being made and the lab where they test to see how different prototypes react to different types of gases. To me it's just exciting.

As we walk into the building, my excitement grows. We stroll through the large, openness of the first floor and turn into the cafe. "I'm going to drop my stuff off at my desk," Maria says. "I'll be back." She disappears through the doors and makes her way to the elevator.

"Alright," Dad says. "Let's get some breakfast!"

He leads us through the line and I settle with a few pieces of bacon. If today is going to be anything like I imagine it will, I'm not going to want food in my system. I'd rather starve than puke on a tour guide. Or worse -- the CEO, Justin.

Dad and Dylan make small talk for a few minutes, talking about their last skate meet and how Dad fell when he was just about to come out in first place. I listen in and switch my gaze from their faces to the large scrape on Dad's palm ever few minutes.

"Awe remember that girl?" Dad asks Dylan. "The one who was flirting with you really badly?"

Dylan nods. "Oh yeah," he recalls. "'I like your shoes! I like your braces! I wish I had braces!'" he mocks in a high-pitched voice that resembles nails dragging across a chalk board.

Still, I can't help but laugh. "Somebody flirted with you?"

What girl could be so desperate she's forced to date my brother, the lowest of the lows?

"I wouldn't be talking if I were you," Dylan warns. "You repel guys!"

I roll my eyes. I don't repel guys on accident. I draw them in, get to know them, and if I don't like who they are then I pull out one of two sides: the bitchy Mackenzie or the over dramatic Mackenzie. Both of those are enough to make anyone run for the hills.

When I've finished eating, Maria takes a seat with us, setting her food down on the table. Five more minutes of awkward, diluted small talk and then we're ready to go. I've decided to walk with Maria to the fifth floor while Dylan is going to hang out with Dad around the building.

We get up to Paralegal and Maria has made it her mission to introduce me to everyone she sees. "I talk about you a lot," she explains. "I want them to know you actually exist!" There are a million pictures of Cody, Dylan, and me at her desk. I doubt anyone thinks I don't exist.

I suck it up though. Today is supposed to be about this stuff; it's the day parents (and step parents) get to brag about their bright children and show them off. Not that I'd be considered smart compared to some of the kids here. Kids who go to advanced prep schools much better than Yough.

Maria guides me into a small office, where a middle-aged woman sits at her desk. "Hello," she says. "I'm Peggy!" Her black hair comes just above her shoulders, sitting there in elaborate curls. She has bright green eyes and an even brighter smile. I could get used to Peggy. She calms my nerves.

"Hi Peggy." I return a smile.

"Peggy, this is my stepdaughter, Mackenzie," Maria introduces, "and Mackenzie, this is Peggy."

Peggy steps forward with her hand held out. I shake it lightly, my fingers trembling with slight nerves. "Nice to meet you, Peggy." As soon as she said the same thing back and lets go of my hand I recoil, crossing my arms around my chest.

I smile at her once more, this one more shaky than the last, before Maria guides me back to her desk. She looks at her watch. "We should probably get going soon," she says. "The symposium starts at eight and it's already seven forty-five."

I nod and let her lead me out of the area, back to the elevators. She presses a button and we step in and with another tap of a button we're on the third floor. I know my way from here. On the left side, across the gaping hole that allows you to see the first floor, is customer support and a few other areas. Dad's desk is over there with the few other employee trainers.

To my right is the fun stuff. Production and SMT assembly.

We go to the right then take a sharp left. At the end of the hallways is a mostly-empty floor. Maria informs me that Predictable Solutions used to be down here before they moved them to her floor with Paralegal and Tech Support.

We head to the right, where a thin, white wall is all that separates the expanse from the symposium room. Maria and I head over. At the front of the room, tables are set up. People are sat at each table and they're registering kids.

"Hello sweetie," one woman says to me when I get up there. "What's your name and grade?"

"Mackenzie Craig. Eighth grade."

She moves her marker over a sheet of paper and puts a dot next to Dad's name. "All set," she says cheerfully. "You can pick up a bag and some snacks over there." She points to the farthest table down, where a guy his handing out black, Industrial Scientific draw string bags.

I go over to him and pick one up, noticing that there's stuff inside of it. I pull out a square water bottle and a pen with feathers coming out the top. It's cute, I think.

After ten minutes of waiting, Dylan and Dad appear, my brother taking the seat next to me. We sit around in silence. I can't stop myself from tapping my foot nervously, looking out the windows and onto the Parkway. My eyes travel along the area, latching onto moving cars or people walking into stores or hotels. Anything to distract me from the crowd of people surrounding me.

"Dylan," Maria calls. "Can you switch places with Alice so she can sit by her sister?"

No, I think.

"Yeah."

No no no no no. Dylan is the only person I know here. Even if we don't talk, it's nice to know I'm not completely alone. As he stands up and a little girl takes his place, I switch into panic mode. My heart starts to hammer against my chest and I feel like the world is caving in around me. I force myself to breathe evenly and at least act like nothing is wrong.

But my foot continues to tap silently even as Justin walks to the front of the room and begins to present a PowerPoint. He starts talking about workers dying on the job and I wonder if it's appropriate to talk this gruesomely around small children. Then again, the nine-year-old in front of me seems to be enjoying it.

The next slide has a picture on it. A man with a hardhat stands with a cage in his hands. Inside the cage is a canary, white feathers spread.

"Does anyone know why this man has a canary?" Justin asks. "You, in the back!" He points to someone I can't see.

"To tell how much poisonous gas is in the air," a boy says.

I turn around and see him smiling ahead, happy that he's answered right. He has dark hair spiked at the front and a dark red shirt on. His olive skin compliments his dark eyes. He's . . . beautiful, really. It's the only word I can think of to describe him.

I turn back around quickly and focus on what Justin is saying.

" . . . breathe very rapidly so they would ingest more of the gas. So when the canary dies the miners knew they had to get out of the shaft quickly."

I tune in and out throughout his entire lecture, only paying attention when he asks a question or tells a joke.