Word Count: 608

Jonah sat at his computer, scrolling through job postings he didn't feel nearly qualified enough to apply for.

“You know Grandpa's just going to want you to go into the family business,” Haven said from her place behind him.

She was reclined on his bed with a book in her hands, flipping through it casually but not really reading. Jonah didn't have the the energy to shoo her away. He preferred her company, in any case, to loneliness. Together they could commiserate. Alone he was afraid he might cry.

He was afraid he might cry anyway, but that was not so uncommon these days. It'd been that way since graduation.

“I don't want to go into the family business,” Jonah said.

“Then why not try to be a receptionist somewhere?”

“I'm not very confident taking phone calls.”

“Data entry?” Haven suggested.

“They all require experience with systems I don't have any experience in,” Jonah complained.

“Remind me again why you're not going into teaching. You know, those who can, do; those who can't, teach.”

“You're not helping,” Jonah told her.

“Why don't you want to teach?”

“The same reason I don't want to be a receptionist.”

“People?”

Jonah nodded his head vigorously.

Haven sighed and tossed the book back onto the pile of books already stacked high on Jonah's bedside table. She sat up and peered at him with that sharp, clever look in her eyes that always made him feel uncomfortable.

For all he and his sister had in common, they were polar opposites as far as personality. Haven was clever and determined. She was unafraid of making mistakes because she knew she could learn from them and do better next time. Most importantly, she wasn't timid around people. She might fall victim to a little bit of teenaged self-consciousness, but she wasn't shy and unassuming.

On the other hand, there was Jonah—quiet and reserved. Meek, he told himself. People made him anxious because he never knew what they thought of him, so he assumed they thought the worst. He was smart but not clever, dependable but unadventurous. He was completely lacking in self-confidence, entirely unlike his fearless little sister.

He often complained that ever bit of backbone their parents had to give to their offspring went to her.

“Think about something you're good at,” Haven suggested.

“Reading,” Jonah answered.

“So work at a library.”

“It's not that easy. I didn't get a degree in that field.”

“Okay, name something else you're good at,” Haven said.

“Writing papers,” he said.

“So work in research or something.”

“How?” Jonah asked. “Where? What? There's nothing like that out there for me to apply for.”

“Maybe you're just not looking in the right places.”

“Or maybe I'm just pathetic and no one will hire me,” Jonah said bitterly.

“A self-defeatist,” Haven observed. She continued with a sarcastic, “That's attractive.”

“Will you just leave?” Jonah finally snapped, swiveling around in his computer chair to toss his sister as much of an angered look as he could muster.

Which wasn't much. He mostly looked sad and defeated.

Haven rolled her eyes and sighed as she stood from the bed, heading for the door without having to be told twice.

“I don't know how to help you, Jonah,” Haven said just before she left, “when you're not even helping yourself.”

She shut the door behind her and left Jonah to his solitude.

Only when he heard her own door close down the hall did he let his tears fall.