Dogs Chase Squirrels 5 - The New Guy

Camelia sat down at her desk, her eyes falling back to the stack of papers still left neglected from earlier.  She flipped through the small stack with her finger, letting out a quiet sigh.  She tried her best not to let the mundanity of her position get to her, but every once in a while, even she felt a tinge of ennui whenever she found herself staring at a pile of paper that demanded her attention.

As she stared at the pages in front of her, her mind couldn’t help but wander -- back to the taste of coffee still fresh on her tongue.  A little more wandering brought her thoughts back to the taste of Irene’s lips pressed against her own.  Irene seemed to enjoy Chapstick -- cherry, at that.

Her stomach tingled, a fresh round of butterflies running rampant inside of her that made her tail wag, making a thump-thump noise against the back of her chair.  The squirrel woman constantly invaded her thoughts ever since their impromptu date yesterday.  It was rare that the canine let her mind run off the rails this often while she was on the clock, yet something about that day -- about Irene -- kept derailing her train of thought.  Ashley was right -- she did enjoy hanging out with Irene, and the thought of spending more time with her felt more important than going through a few bog-standard resumes.

She took a cursory glance at the clock hanging on the wall.  She’d have three interviews to work through today, her first being in 30 minutes, and she didn’t even know the applicants’ names yet.  Camelia nibbled her lower lip.

Okay.  I can’t keep getting distracted like this.  I have a job to do.  I can think about how Irene tastes later.

Goodness, that came out wrong.

Taking another breath helped gather her thoughts as she took the stack of papers in hand, tapping them against the desk to straighten them out.  Fortunately for her, it wouldn’t take long to give each resume a quick review -- having a strong memory and a quick reading pace meant last-minute study sessions were just as mundane to her as putting books away.

Adjusting her glasses, she quickly skimmed through the first applicant’s cover letter.

“Hmm.  Yvette Turner. Cover letter is nice,” she muttered to herself.  A turn of the page brought her to the resume proper, which was just as impressive.  Indeed, the applicant had a lot of qualifications -- too many, actually.  Given Yvette was applying for an entry-level assistant position (the only position she could convince Edward to greenlight), her set of skills was more than was necessary for the tasks needed.  Then again,the job market was tough on everyone, and it wasn’t getting any easier.  Many people, even those with years of experience in other fields, settled for what they could take.  And given Yvette’s experience with high school students -- three years as a teacher’s aide would certainly give anyone all the experience they’d need -- training her to assist both the general community and undergraduates alike wouldn’t be too much of an adjustment.

Camelia pulled out a pen, her thumb quickly clicking the plunger to expose the ballpoint tip, where she jotted down a few questions to ask on the bottom of the resume.  Writing down the questions was less a reminder and more a mental task to help cement the questions into her memory -- again, an easy task.

Setting that first resume aside, she pulled out the second, once again skimming over its contents.  The cover letter for this one was more verbose, but was nearly identical as Yvette’s -- a young man in his early thirties, looking for steady work, was a hard worker, looked forward to a place where he felt he belonged; Camelia had seen it all before.  Still, he had a fair bit of library experience, with a history of community service to boot.  Her pen danced across the bottom of the page as she whispered his name aloud, ensuring she wouldn’t forget when the time came.

“Alright, easy enough,” she proclaimed, bringing her attention to the final resume.  The third applicant didn’t include a cover letter, not to mention the font size chosen was larger than necessary attempting to mask the sparse amount of detail the applicant bothered to include.  One of the corners had been creased over -- certainly no fault of Agnes’s, as the paper was crinkled in more than a few places, evidently by the applicant.

“Goodness.  Someone needs a lesson in resume writing,” she muttered as she glanced at the name -- and blanched.  “No.  No way.  This has to be a joke.”

Written in unnecessarily bold font on the top header was the name “Nathan Zemeckis”.  The same Nathan Zemeckis that, if Camelia’s assumption proved correct, made a terrible habit of returning books in less-than-optimal condition, if at all -- she recalled going to his dorm on the campus more than a few times to retrieve her property, all of them at varied levels of annoyance.  And height.  The same Nathan that was, at one point, her former lover’s roommate, a thought she chose not to dwell on more than necessary.

It didn’t stop there.  Nathan lacked any kind of filter; he was more than happy to speak his mind, no matter whoever was in earshot.  Granted, most of the time his opinions came from a good place, but he wasn’t afraid to rub people the wrong way, whether or not he was in the right.  In fact, he seemed to relish it.  Anything from politics to conspiracy theories, even down to what was the best item on McCarthy’s menu, if Nathan could find an argument, he’d dive in head-first.  Nathan was the textbook definition of abrasive.

And here he was, applying to a job at a library.  Her library.

Despite his obnoxiousness, there was no denying that he possessed a shocking level of intellect, having graduated summa cum laude just last year, with a Bachelors in Political Science.  Much like the others, he was overqualified for an entry-level job just by that factor alone.

In that same breath, Nathan was, for lack of a more tactful word, an absolute idiot.  An idiot she most certainly didn’t want as part of her regular staff.  Not that she could stop him from coming to the interview -- it was too late to tell Nathan not to waste his time stopping by.

“I’m going to have to have a word with Agnes,” she said aloud to no one in particular.  She glanced up at the clock again.  Time was moving much faster than she realized, as her first interviewee would arrive at any second.  She’d have to pester the beaver’s judgment -- or lack thereof -- later.

She straightened the wrinkles in her purple skirt, having dressed in ‘proper librarian’ attire for the occasion.  She shivered slightly inside her cardigan; shrinking down brought a chill to her that wasn’t normally present at larger sizes.  That, and she was confident the furnace was on the fritz, because the heating system had yet to kick up.  Again.

She heard a knock at the door two seconds after she took her seat.  She had forgotten to check the schedule Agnes had set up, so she wasn’t sure who to expect for her initial interview.  Not that it bothered her; she knew all she needed to in order to make a proper impression for a future employee -- or at least try to hide her apprehension, in Nathan’s case.

“Come in,” she called out.

The door opened as a short beaver with grey locks opened the door, smiling cordially.  “Good morning, Camelia!  I’ve got Nathan with me, and he’s all ready for his interview.”

Camelia resisted the urge to wince.  Of course he’d be first.  “Very good.  Show him in, if you would.”

“With pleasure,” Agnes replied sweetly.  She opened the door wide, allowing a rather lanky pine marten to wander inside.  He had tucked himself into an ill-matching blue business suit that clashed with his brown fur, his fingers scratching at the crest of cream white that spread down his neck.  To Camelia’s surprise, he didn’t bring anything else with him -- no suitcase, no binder, not even a spare resume -- nothing other than a hesitant smile.  Nathan’s eyes found Camelia’s, making that smile even wider.

“Wow, I didn’t expect you’d be interviewing me, Cam.  Guess you can send everyone else home, huh?”  Nathan chuckled, trying to shake his nerves.  The flat expression on Camelia’s face suggested his joke had landed with all the grace of a wet sack of concrete on glass.

“Please, take your seat.”  Camelia gestured to the chair opposite her.

Nathan sat down, awkwardly adjusting his striped green tie.  Despite his usual scruffy appearance, and his odd choice in suit color, he did clean up decently enough, his short hair cleaned and combed to suggest he knew what hygiene was -- which wasn’t always on point, from Camelia’s past experience.

“So.  Nathan.  Never thought you’d be looking for a career with us.”

Nathan chuckled again, at once nervous and out-of-place.  Camelia had seen Nathan flustered before, but usually because she was the cause of it.  “Y-yeah.  Small world, huh?”

“Not small enough, it seems.”  Camelia’s replies were curt as she pulled his resume out, looking over his scant qualifications once more.  “It says here you’re hard-working, open to criticism, and eager to learn.  All facts that you and I both know are false.”

“W-well, that’s what you’re supposed to say, right?  I can’t tell people I’ve always been a bit rebellious.  Bosses don’t like hearing that kind of thing, you know.”

Camelia sighed.  “I’ll be honest with you, Nathan.  I’m trying my best to give you the benefit of the doubt here, and I apologize if this comes off as rude, but I really don’t think you’d be a good fit for us here.”

Nathan shifted forward in his seat, his eyes betraying a sense of desperation that he attempted to hide behind a smile.  “Whoa, at least hear me out, Cam!”

“Camelia, if you’d please.  This is an interview.”  Her reply was neutral, yet held an air of contempt.

“Oh.  Um, yeah.  Camelia.  Sorry.”  Nathan tilted his head back, struggling to find a response.  “I...I know what you’re thinking.  I’m not really ‘library’ material.  And you have every right to kick me to the curb.  But you know how hard it is to find work right now, and I picked a pretty bad time to be a Poli Sci major.  I told you my dad was an attorney, right?”  Camelia shook her head.  “Huh, thought I did.  He’s a bit of a big shot.  You’ve probably seen those dumb commercials of his on television all the time.”

“I can’t say that I have.  I don’t watch much television.  Your point being?”

Nathan stiffened.  “Uh, well, my dad always wanted me to follow in his footsteps.  And don’t get me wrong, I loved learning that stuff, but I did not want to follow in my dad’s shoes.  Unfortunately, I didn’t bother with networking or internships, and I kind of just coasted on my thesis, so once I graduated...well, I mean, I’m here asking for a job, so you can guess how that went.”

“Even though you graduated with honors?  Most people in the politology field would fall over themselves to hire someone with your grades.”

The pine marten shrugged.  “You’d think that.  But I’ve never enjoyed being a part of politics.”

The Labrador stifled a wry chuckle.  I can’t help but think you only took that major to fight the system, or at least be able to complain about it and know what you’re talking about.  Or at least be able to fake it.  “Well, be that as it may, I’m still not sure why you’d want to apply for a job here.  Why don’t you consider applying for a college-student leadership position?  I’m sure Pinewood would love to have you.”

“No way,” Nathan said dismissively, waving his hands.  “I did my time there, I don’t need to be tied down to that place for 40 hours a week.”

Camelia let out a groan; hiding her exasperation was becoming impossible.  “I’m not sure if this is your first job interview, but that is the opposite answer you want to give to an employer.”

“No, no, you’re misunderstanding!  I didn’t really enjoy being at Pinewood -- well, okay, I’d be lying, but you know what I mean.”  Once again, Camelia shook her head.  “Uh.  Anyway.  I didn’t like being at Pinewood, but I like being here.  I know, I’m terrible at returning books, and a part of me enjoys being an asshole, but this is, like, the only place that doesn’t treat me like I’m some kind of idiot.”

Camelia felt a small twinge of guilt at Nathan’s remark.

“I’m not asking for much,” the marten continued.  “Even just a part-time gig.”  Camelia’s eyebrows raised as Nathan hunched over, pressing his hands against his knees, his eyes shut.  “I don’t know what I want to do with my life.  I...I never thought about life outside of college.  I want to prove to my dad I can make it on my own, without his help.”  Nathan shuddered, as if trying to hold back a sob.

“...are you okay, Nathan?”  

The marten shook his head.  “My...my old man paid for my college.  Threatened he’d cut me off if I didn’t at least try to do something with my life.  Well, the moment I got my degree, he decided he’d done his duty as a dad, and that if I wouldn’t follow behind him, then there was no reason to keep giving me handouts.”  Nathan breathed sharply, his voice hitching.  “I...I don’t care about his money.  I never did.  I just want to prove I’m not worthless.  Please.  Just give me a chance.  As your friend.”

Camelia fell silent, looking at Nathan as he struggled not to lose control.  Her index finger tapped on her desk slowly, the only other sound that could be heard over the marten’s breathing.  She never enjoyed being the big, bad canine -- but she also knew what being in charge meant.

“I’m sorry to hear that.  Truly.  But as much as I sympathize with you, being in a bad place does not qualify you for a job.  Working as an assistant is more than just putting books away.  It requires empathy, commitment, and compassion, all qualities that you lack.  And I’m not saying this to be cruel.  I’m saying this as your friend -- you deserve the truth, no matter how harsh it may be to hear it.”  Camelia stopped herself for a moment as Nathan looked up, dejectedly.  “You’re not a bad person, Nathan.  I think you’re a very smart and determined young man.  You’ll find a place that will be more than happy to have you.”

“Just not here.  Heh.  I get it.”  Nathan stood up, straightening his suit jacket.  “Sorry I wasted your time, Camelia.  I’ll...see myself out.”

Nathan was quick to turn on his heel and make for the door, trying to escape as quickly as his legs would allow.  Camelia watched, that feeling of guilt rising up in her stomach.

Damn it, she uttered under her breath.  It was rare for her to curse without good reason.  “Wait.”

Nathan stopped at the door, his hand on the doorknob.  He didn’t turn around.  “Yeah?”

“I have a co-worker -- a friend.  Agnes.  She’s an excellent judge of character, and she’s never steered me wrong before.”

“What’s your point?”

“She’s the reason we’re talking right now, and I’m not about to question her judgment.”  At least, I haven’t had the chance to, yet.  “I hope you understand my reservations about hiring you, Nathan.  You haven’t done much to instill me with confidence.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.  Usually with a lot more swearing.”  Nathan chuckled to himself, bitterly.

“We open at 8 AM every day, 7 days a week, and there’s a large assortment of books that need to be shelved before we open our doors.”

Nathan raised his head, his profile seeming to straighten up as he listened to Camelia’s words.  He turned around to face her.  “You mean --”

“This is a temporary, unlisted position,” Camelia continued before Nathan could finish.  “30 hours per week.  You’ll be responsible for shelving books every morning and mid-day, and you’ll answer directly to me.  You prove to me that you’re capable of the work, and we’ll talk about more responsibilities -- and higher pay.  You start next Monday.”

Nathan practically leapt across the room, pushing the chair aside as he grasped Camelia’s hand in his own, shaking it vigorously.  “Thank you!  Oh, God, thank you, Camelia.  You have no idea how badly I needed this!”

“You’re...quite welcome,” Camelia responded, squeezing Nathan’s paw back.  Nathan blinked, looking down at Camelia’s hand grasping his own -- despite how soft and dainty her hand felt in his, her grip was fierce.  “Don’t make me regret this, Nathan.  Please?”

“When have I ever let you down?” Nathan said with a wink.  The sour look on Camelia’s face told him he had struck a nerve.  “Don’t answer that.”

“At least you still have your sense of humor.  I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, yet.”  Camelia stood up, showing Nathan back to the door.  She hesitated to open it upon grasping the doorknob.  “Um, Nathan?  Before you go, could...could I ask you about --” Her voice tapered off before she could finish.

“Hm?  What’s up?”

Camelia looked at Nathan pensively, trying to find the right way to say what was on her mind.  Those words never came.  Or rather, she couldn’t bring herself to ask.  It still felt too soon.  “Nothing.  Never mind.”

Nathan, however, was always a quick wit.  It made up for his lack of tact.  “This is about Hunter, isn’t it?”

Camelia’s voice caught in her throat.  “W-well…”

Nathan laughed, more heartily, making Camelia’s ears redden.  “Oh, come on, you haven’t seen that husky in months.  It’s written all over your face.”  As he continued, his expression went from jovial to forlorn.  “Sorry.  I haven’t seen him since I graduated.  He’s always so busy these days, ever since he went on that internship of his.  I can confirm he’s not dead, though.”

“That’s...good to know,” Camelia said.

“Hey, I miss the guy too.  We were besties for the longest time.  He was the only person that put up with my crap for more than a few minutes.  He thought about you a lot.”  Nathan rubbed the back of his head.  “Sorry, I know that’s not much to go on.”

“No, it’s alright.  As long as he’s doing well, that’s all that matters.”  Camelia looked back at Nathan with a smile.  “Thank you, Nathan.”

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me.  I’m just the new guy.  And I don’t expect any special treatment, either!  Just...watch your step when we’re working together, okay?”

“No promises.”  Camelia’s smile never faltered, making Nathan’s own smile fade.  He blinked, before bursting into his own short fit of laughter.

“Oh.  Oh!  Heehee, that was a joke!  Good one.  I never took you for being a comedian!”  Nathan continued to stare at Camelia’s unwavering grin, which only made his pulse rise.  “I’m going to go now.”

“That would be best.  See you Monday.”

“R-right.  Monday.”  With a quick clearing of his throat, Nathan went through the door and disappeared down the hall.  Camelia slowly closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath.

That went better than I expected.  Nathan’s a good kid.  He just needs the right motivation.  And to be reminded to shower every day.  She slowly returned to her desk, her mind continuing to wander.  Still, I shouldn’t have asked him about Hunter.  That was unprofessional of me.  Besides, I made my decision a long time ago.  I still stand by it.

She sat back down -- less sat and more slumped into it.

So why do I feel so terrible?

The canine removed her glasses, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.  She hadn’t thought about Hunter in months, and here she was, having been reminded of him -- twice.  She made the right decision back then.  She was confident she had, even now.  But for the first time, she was starting to question herself, and if she was too hasty in her decision to reject him.  She wasn’t ready for a relationship back then.

She wasn’t sure she was ready for a relationship right now, either.  And being reminded of Hunter only made that doubt even worse.

Another knock at the door interrupted her self-reflection.  She quickly put her glasses back on, straightening herself in her seat.  “Yes?”

Agnes once again opened the door, smiling again.  “I have Yvette here.  Are you ready to talk to her?”

“Of course.  Send her in,” Camelia said as a skunk woman walked inside, dressed to impress with a small suitcase in her hand.  She set her contemplation aside as she reached over the desk to shake Yvette’s free paw with her own.

Now wasn’t the time to stress over her personal life.  She had a job to do.