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All Chapters of Not in a Million Years: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

31 Chapters

t w e n t y - o n e : in the zone

If my life had a playlist, it would be a sad one. Alternative music would play, giving a dark and smoky vibe. A few low tempo rap songs, some Adele for a little variation. I decided to make this playlist, with the excuse that it would inspire me to write the most profound and insightful essays for college.What is your favorite book, and how has it impacted your life?I can’t say Fifty Shades of Grey, can I? NEXTWhat is your favorite song?I just close the laptop—for the third time today, I might add. I’m contemplating deleting my social media apps, as well. I’ve developed a severe case

t w e n t y - t w o : surprise, surprise

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

He lives a few streets over from me. Being in the small town we’re in, of course we’ve known each other forever.I only had to enter the address in to find the route with less traffic.When I get there, only his car is in the driveway, parked haphazardly, and the door is ajar.Now, I know that the rational decision would be to run for the hills… or for help, but I decided to enter… cautiously, of course.I hear a rumbling noise coming from upstairs, along with heavy breathing and… growling?Please don’t be a burglar, please don’t be a burglar, please don’t be a burglar.Luckily, I know Aaron’s mom, and she always keeps a bat under the kitchen sink. I grab it and head upstairs to become a vigilante. With each steady step, I get more jittery and regret it.The noises get louder and louder until…“What the fuck?!” the bitch scream

t w e n t y - t h r e e : Tom Cruise who?

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

I feel like I’m in an action movie. You know, one of those where there’s some social security threat, and the CIA enlists some rogue agents—whom they suddenly trust to competently do their jobs—to “save the world.”I’m rapidly clicking my computer keys, searching for any digital trail from secrets109428@hotmail.com. Subtle.“Find secrets109428@hotmail.com on White Pages Today!” a random link says. No, thanks.

t w e n t y - f o u r : problems

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

Drake’s POV“What is it now?” I snap.“Problem at the oil rig,” the tattooed beast mumbles.“What fucking oil rig? We have hundreds of—”He dangles a bag of white powder before I can finish my sentence.Oh. Oil rig.I sigh, rubbing my temples. “What kind of problem?”“Some managers”—law enforcement— “stumbled on”—busted—“some weird activity”—our illegal drug business— “among the

t w e n t y - f i v e : i'm turning into my dad

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

Drake’s POVWe’re coasting down 9th avenue in pursuit of a seat at one of my favorite restaurants in the city.“Where are we headed?” she asks, tapping the black leather arm rest. She pushes some fly-away curls from her face, staring out the passenger side window.“Just a place.”“As long as I don’t end up getting kidnapped, I’m fine with anything,” she mumbles.“Steak?”“Sure.”I pull the Audi up to the restaurant’s valet with ease

t w e n t y - s i x : it was you

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

“I think you missed the exit,” I whine. We’ve been on the road for at least 40 minutes. “I know the way to my friend—and co-worker’s—house, thank you very much,” Don smizes.I roll my eyes. “Would you rather be wrong or late?”She huffs and takes the nearest exit, while I refresh the navigation. Eventually, we end up in Stevie’s neighborhood in some obscure town in New Jersey.As soon as we park in front of the house, the door swings open, but it’s Stevie instead of his brother. They’re roommates.“H-Hey, Don. Gen,” he smiles gingerly.

t w e n t y - s e v e n : november

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

NovemberDrakes POV“How much do you want us to take out?” The overalled man grumbles, clutching a clipboard.“Everything. Take out all the office supplies, except for the desk. Put it in a box, and leave it in my office,” I say.I haven’t seen her since she sent me that email: “Going to have to take the day off tomorrow. Family emergency.”All the interns headed back to school or to wherever they traveled from before starting here, including her… I guess. We’re closing the office, and this is my last thing to do before going en route to the dreaded family Thanksgiving.

t w e n t y - e i g h t : acceptance

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

“Grandma’s or grandpa’s?” I ask.“Hmm?” mom mumbles as she puts on another layer of makeup.“Which one should we go to first?”Great—another reminder that marriage doesn’t last—at least in her eyes. She told me about her big romantic awakening with dad. How he promised never to hurt her like my grandparents did each other. How he promised to love her till death do them part.In her eyes, it’s all a lie, and I’m starting to think so, too.So, here we are: picking which Thanksgiving to go to first, not mentioning dad, and pretending like everything’s okay.I’m avoiding my “friends,” and mom has a new guy over every week: perfectly normal. And clarentonsecrets—aka. My best friend—is here to document it all.“Let’s go to grandma’s,” she chrips.She’s always been her favorite, seeing as gran

t w e n t y - n i n e : impulse

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

Without looking back, I lead him to grandma’s pool house.We never break the kiss as we continue down the stone path. I consider skinny dipping, but it’s November, and the pool is closed. Luckily, the pool house is open. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. His hands trail my body, over my hips, over my chest—my ass.I just know his face is some smeared, muted shade of my lipstick.I’ve never done something like this. I’ve never just taken risks for the hell of it.He pushes me onto one of the couches and peels my dress up.“Wait,” I say, breathlessly panting.“Something wrong?” he whispers roughly. He’s panting, too—hard.I can see that he already has a yellow wrapper from his wallet. This is really happening.“Are you—”“No,” I say.“—okay?” he finishes.“Oh,”

t h i r t y : it's time

Not in a Million Years/anayawrites

“Iced Matcha Latte for Gen,” Sarah calls. I didn’t even know what Matcha was. I just googled it while waiting for my drink, but I felt like I needed a change. I’m not the Caramel Macchiato Genevieve anymore. It’s weird to say, but it’s true. Crushed tea leaves. The color puts me off, but I’ll try it. I’ve already invested $4.50 into the new me. And Sarah didn’t even add a demeaning nickname to my cup. Progress? I think she moved onto a new victim to torment. I don’t have any fight left in me. I sip the drink slowly, and it’s pleasantly sweet. A little green tasting… don’t ask. It tastes like nature, but not in a gross way. Starting up the car, I head into the city. Approaching the office building that I had a key to just a few months ago, I sigh. I hate awkward interactions, but it’s time. I buzz the gate, stating my name. I was skeptical about if they would remember me, but the guard let me right in. I park in my usual

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