Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Cello Jello ❯ Vol. Six: Chapter Eighteen: Get a Real Job ( Chapter 18 )

Get a Real Job

Having no money sucks. Makoto learned that the hard way. She wanted to party tonight. Sadly, her wallet said no. She opened it opened and flipped it upside down. She could've sworn she saw a moth flying out.

“Huh?” Makoto asked. “No. No!” She broke down pouting. “No fair! No fair!” The woman sat back on her bed, frowning. Now what? Makoto lifted her head when she heard the door close down the hall.

“I'm home!” Cello called from the front door. Makoto perked up like a cat. She quickly poked her head in the hallway.

“Welcome home!” she greeted her daughter. Cello froze, panicked as her mother raced down the hall.

“What's going on?” she asked. Makoto grabbed onto her shoulders.

“Cello, honey!” she said. “I love you so much, you know that?”

“What do you want?”

Makoto pouted like a sweet little girl. “Why would you think something like that?”

“Mom.”

“What?”

“I know you. Now what do you want?”

Her mother frowned. “Okay, I need money for tonight.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No!” Cello looked away when her mother started pouting. “No!” Makoto snorted.

“Why are you so mean to me?” she whimpered.

“I am not giving you money!” her daughter shouted. Her mother folded her arms across her chest.

“Then how am I supposed to get money?” she asked.

“Get a job?” Cello suggested.

“But I already have a job.”

“Get a real job?” Cello walked into her room and slammed the door. Makoto stood, frowning.

“No fair!” she complained.

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Nevertheless, she had nowhere to turn. Makoto began looking through the papers for a job. Already, she had problems. Cello had just gotten up that Saturday morning when she heard groaning from the kitchen. Her jaw dropped when she found Makoto sitting on the floor surrounded by newspapers.

“Mom?” she asked. “What is this? What's going on?” Her mom began whining again.

“Why is this so hard?” she asked. Cello walked over, head tilted.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Makoto turned her head, sighing.

“I'm looking for a job,” she said. Her daughter's jaw hit the floor.

“What?!” she shouted.

“I'm looking for a job.”

“Why?”

“I need the money?”

Cello managed to recover from her shock. “So… what have you found?” Makoto began whimpering again. Her daughter frowned.

“In other words, nothing?” she asked. Her mother looked up, pouting.

“Help me?” she asked. Her puppy dog eyes broke down her daughter.

“Fine,” Cello said, sighing. Makoto leapt up and hugged her.

“You are a great daughter!” she exclaimed. Cello rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “Do you have any job skills?”

Makoto looked her in the eye. “Huh?”

“Do you have any job skills?”

“I don't know.”

“Highest education level?”

“High school?”

“Any training?”

“Uh…”

“Do you even know what job you want?”

“I don't know!” Makoto whimpered. “You have to help me!” A sweat drop formed on Cello's head. I should've known! She always does this to me. Still, at least it's something useful. Cello forced herself to smile.

“Sure,” she said. “I'll help you find a job, but you have to be serious about this!”

“I am!” her mother insisted. “I promise!”

“Right…” Cello mumbled before she sat down with her mother on the floor with the sea of newspapers covering it.

She's so High