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Quinci Everly
Monday Morning
It wasfifteen minutes after seven, and I stood in the mirror putting on my lip gloss.Denim would be here in fifteenminutes,and I needed to be downstairswaiting for her.After popping my lips, I tossed thegloss in my toteon the floor. Leaning closer to the mirror, I pressed my fingers against the slight bagsunder my eyes. I’d tossed and turned for most of the night, and it showed.The pieces of iceI pressed against them helped a little.
My phone vibrated on top of my laptop, and it was my mother calling… again. She called me two minutes after my alarm went off and texted me everyfifteenminutes afterward to see what I was doing at thatmoment.
“Mom. I’m getting ready tohead downstairs.”
“Which outfit did you go with?”
I propped the phone upon my laptop and backed away from the camera, showing her my outfit.After three outfit changes, I finally went withanorangeshirt, a black ankle-length skirt, and brown Tory Burchflats.My hair was moussed into a thick ball atop my head.The dress code for DHQ was business casual,and I thought I looked okay. My shape was covered good. I didn’t want people to think that I was that type of woman to cometo work looking like I was trying to entice my boss.
When my mom and I went shopping, I tried on several business suits, butbeing five foot ten, everything hugged my hips and petite waist, sitting above my knees.And then the shirts I tried on had to be two sizes bigger because I didn’t want mybreasts to be sitting up.
“You look so cute, Quinn. Look just like me. Oh my God.”
“You wish,” my dad said in the background.
“What did that shorter skirt look like?”
“Let my baby wear what she wants to wear, Bern.”
I rolled my eyes. “The split was, like, literally on my thigh.”
“Oh. Okay, I get it. You can send it home, and I’ll take it back if you’re not going to wear it.”
“Alright. I’ll keep it just in case Ihave towear it. Okay, but Mom, Ihave togo. I don’t want to be late on my first day, and all your hard campaigning for me goes to waste.”
“Alright, baby, love you.”
“Love youtoo, Quinn,” my dad chimed in.
“Lovey’all.” I ended the call, sliding the phone in my tote.
I wasn’tuncomfortable with my body or nothing like that.It was beautiful. My body was very toned from working at the grove and walking mostly everywhere.The discomfort came from how men looked at me.It started when I was younger.
I was always thetallest girl and hadfilled out before my classmates.Eighth grade gym wasvery traumatic for me.Leaving class, I overheard one of the male teachers telling another male teacher what he’d do to my body, and it was the most disgusting thing I’d ever heard in my life.When I got home, I told my mother what was said, and she told my dad, which I was not expecting her to do, and the very next morning, my father was arrested for beating up the two teachers.Although the one who’d made the comment was fired,it still made the rest of school a little bituncomfortablefor me, and it just stayed with me until adulthood.I dressed up sometimes, but not a lot.
After making sure I had everything, I grabbed my tote and left the room.In my things, I found a lanyard for my elevator key, so I’d never lose it.
“Phone, key, walletin tote, and watch on my wrist,” I expressed to myself, pressing the button for the elevator.
Downstairs, I stepped outsidewith three minutes to spare, and my eyes widened at the amount of people in suits going in each direction.
“Ms. Everly,” the doorman got my attention.
“Quinci is fine. Oh, good morning. I didn’t get your name yesterday.”
“Mike.”
I smiled. “Hey, Mike. Just waiting on Denim.”
“Her car is coming. Four cars back waiting in line.”
I looked to see the shiny black car from yesterday, so I made my way down the stairs. Several other peoplegot picked up before Al came to a stop in front of the hotel. He got out, opening the back door for me.
“Thank you, Mr. Al. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people opening the door for me.”
