I took a couple of jobs after school. I still had plans of going to college. While, there was a chance that I got a scholarship, I knew I still had to spend for a lot of things. And the more I saved up, the less Meredith would have to worry about me.
I got a temporary shift at Strung, a shop that sold musical instruments. One of their staff went for a holiday for two weeks, they needed somebody to fill in. It was a job I really enjoyed since I could play instruments.
During closing hours, I would hold one of the electric guitars in the store and I would practice playing ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’. I would imagine that Hunter was just right there beside me. Teaching me, telling me the chords I needed to play. I was getting better at it too. And one night, I really nailed it.
“Come on, chica! Sing to it!” Dominic, one of my co-workers, said to me.
I shook my head. “I would attract too much attention.”
“It’s almost closing time. No one’s here. Just me and Mr. Simpson. He wouldn’t mind. He always encouraged us to test the equipment here anyway,” he said with an encouraging tone. “Come on. You can play and sing, right?”
Instead of answering, I played the song again. Dominic set up a microphone in front of me and for just for kicks, I started singing.
I played the song perfectly and I knew the singing wasn’t bad either. I bet that if Hunter was here, he would be so proud of me.
When I finished, I heard Dominic and Mr. Simpson, clapping and cheering along with some customers who came in for last-minute purchases.
I felt almost embarrassed because I thought it was just the three of us left in the store now. I put the electric guitar back on the rack and went to the counter to take care of the customers’ purchases.
“You certainly play very well. I knew your stepfather. I guess he taught you well,” one of the customers said to me. He was a man probably in his fifties. He was accompanied by a guy with dark hair, who looked like he was just my age. I smiled shyly at the man as I bagged his purchase.
The man turned to leave and the younger guy followed him. As he reached the door, the younger guy turned back to look at me. I noticed his eyes went to the nametag on my chest. Then he looked at me in the eye and gave me a wink before he exited the store.
“I have a band. Maybe you can jam with us sometimes. We could use a female band member,” Dominic said to me.
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? Dom’s right. Your stepfather was really good at the guitar. He played for a local band here,” Mr. Simpson said to me.
I smiled at him gently. He must have known my stepdad too. He bought my first guitar from this shop. Before I could cry at the memory, I excused myself and went to the back to gather my stuff. My shift has ended and it was time for me to go home.
After temping at Strung, I got a job serving tables at Burger Inn. It wasn’t ideal for my condition, but the owner gave me a chance, so I took it. Many of the kids from my school hang out there after classes, especially during Friday nights. I was lucky enough to survive their pranks on a daily basis.
After a week though, my luck ran out.
“Hey BG! Wanna serve our order, today?” a boy, named Don Winston, called me loud enough for everybody at Burger Inn to turn to my direction.
I drew deep breaths. One. Two. Three.
For the past week, they had been calling me BG. It stood for Burger Girl. I couldn’t complain. I was a burger girl. And being a Burger Girl meant I was able to save some money for college.
“Hey BG!” Don Winston called again. “Couldn’t you get here any faster?”
“Just a minute,” I said cheerfully. I do have to keep up the appearances.
A minute later, I served their orders.
“Hey, burgers are not complete without dressing, right guys?” Don asked the rest of the people on their table.
The girls beside him giggled and fluttered their eyelashes. I recognized them from school. One of them was Chelsea Braxton. Don smiled at them mischievously.
Without warning, he stood up, raised his hand over my head and poured ketchup all over me. I was too shocked to react at first.
“What the fuck!”
The girls laughed. Then they smiled at me innocently.
“Oh, that’s better!” He went close to me and whispered in my ear. “Now, you’re more tempting than the burger. What do you say, we meet up after your shift? I could eat you all night.”
Now, that was below the belt! I was so appalled that I slapped him on the face. The girls stopped laughing.
“Alice!” my manager called me. “What are you doing?”
“He… harassed me!” I replied, trying to defend myself.
“No, miss! She said a nasty remark to us and was rude in serving our table.” Chelsea told my manager.
What the hell?
“I did not!” I said angrily. “I was nice to you and you poured ketchup all over me.” Then I pointed at Don. “And he harassed me!”
But my manager was already staring at me with a raised brow, shaking her head.
“You’re fired, Alice,” she said.
“But he provoked me, Andrea,” I protested.
“You know the rules. You should not harass customers even if they harassed you first.”
I sighed. “Fine!”
I turned my back on Don Winston and his friends. I heard a series of snorts and giggles, which made me want to turn back to them and punch them one by one. I’m already fired anyway.
I walked back to my locker, took off my uniform and wiped off the ketchup from my hair and my face. I went out of Burger Inn, glaring one last time at Don and his gang. They just laughed and someone actually stuck a tongue out at me.
I couldn’t believe that there were kids like Don Winston, Chelsea Braxton and their army of groupies who could afford to make somebody lose their means of living and then laugh about it afterwards.
When I came out in a rush, the first person I saw was another guy from school. He was new but somehow, he looked familiar, like I’d seen him before his first day at Leighton High.
What was his name? Chaise something?
I couldn’t care less.
“Hey, what do you know?” he called to me. I turned back to face him. “Is it Alice Harley Bad Hair Day? Or did you just run out of a sweeter-smelling hair gel?” he asked, his eyes were laughing.
I glared at him. “Fuck off!” Then I strode away.
“Hey, hey!” he called again. “Bad mood? Is the red flag up this time of the month?”
I sent another glare his way.
“Not everybody was born lucky like you, Chaise…” I trailed off, realizing that I didn’t know his surname.
He waited for me to continue. Then he took a step towards me. I took a step back, afraid that he was going to physically assault me. He grinned. From where he stood, I realized how tall he was. He was probably as tall as Hunter. He had the same built too.
“Anderson,” he whispered. His expression turned soft. “My name is Chaise Anderson.” He smiled at me and then he walked away.
I didn’t care what his name was. He was from school. And he was like the rest of them. He was new… hot and rich. He instantly fits right in. From the moment he stepped out of his black Porsche, wearing a hooded jacket and sleek sports sunglasses, he was Mr. Popularity. I was popular in school too. But I was the exact opposite of Chaise Anderson. I was popular in a bad way when all I wanted was to be just a fly on the wall.
A single tear escaped from my right eye, rolling down to the side of my face, close to where my scar was. I wished for nothing more but for Hunter to come back, so I could lean on someone who would understand. I didn’t want to just imagine him standing beside me anymore. I want him to be real!
***
The next day, I was sitting in the library doing my homework in advance. I still had to go job-hunting after school.
“Well, well… if it isn’t Rock Princess,” I heard someone say beside me.
I didn’t have to look to see who it was. Apparently, Chaise Anderson’s new hobby was to make my day miserable.
“Oh please, there are more fortunate souls that deserve your attention today, Mr. Anderson,” I said, not bothering to look at him.
“I’m not interested in them. They’re not as interesting as you are,” he said in a conceited tone.
I turned to glare at him. But he only grinned at me and said, “You’re cute, you know.”
He was wearing a gray hooded sweater again. I couldn’t help wondering, ‘What’s with the hood?’
“I don’t know that. The last time I checked, I was horrendous.” I rolled my eyes.
“Come on, what does a guy have to do to get noticed by you?”
“Oh, I notice you, alright,” I said dryly. “I noticed that you’re disturbing my free time to do my homework and I can’t help being annoyed by you.”
A group of girls passed by in front of us, giggling. I stole a glance at them and saw that they were looking dreamily at Chaise.
Of course.
Since he transferred here, he had been the object of many girls’ fantasies. I can’t see why.
“See? Those girls. They want your attention. They want you to talk to them. Nothing you will say to them would be annoying enough. While as with me… the sound of your breath intake alone is infuriating. Can’t you just go and… breathe somewhere else?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m comfortable just as I am. Right here. Beside you.”
I groaned in frustration. “What do you want, Chaise Anderson? Are you really that desperate to make somebody’s life a living hell?”
“You see… that. You have this opinion of me that I want to change,” he said seriously. “I’m not all that bad, if you gave me a chance, Alice.”
I shook my head. “Whatever for?” I shut my book, gathered my things and started to leave.
“Alibri Bookshop,” he said.
I turned to him and raised a brow.
“My aunt owns the place.”
“Congratulations,” I said sarcastically and turned to leave.
“They need an assistant,” he said quickly.
I turned back to him. “What?”
He shrugged. “I know you lost your job at Burger Inn. My aunt was looking for a part-time assistant for the shop.”
“And?”
“You might want to give my aunt a call,” he said, smiling. He took out a card from his pocket and handed it to me.
“And the catch is?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I would say one date. But I have a feeling you would say no anyway. So I have to say, nothing. There’s no catch. I just want to help. If you… would consider the offer.”
I stared at him suspiciously. I was used to being pranked on. It would be almost every day of my life. But the look on Chaise’s face was warm and his smile looked genuine. I took the card from him. “Seriously? No catch?”
He nodded.
I stared at the card in front of me and then I murmured, “Thanks.”
He smiled. “I’m really not such a bad guy if you would just get to know me.”
“Even if that were true, I doubt I would be interested,” I said. “But if you’re really sincere about wanting to help me out, then again, thanks.”
I called up the number that Chaise gave me. I know his aunt, Mrs. Bailey. My mom used to buy me books from their shop when I was a little girl. She was delighted when I gave her a call and immediately proceeded to telling me about the salary she was offering on a part-time basis. I just needed to come in every day after school and close up at ten in the evening. She said that I could do my homework in the shop while manning the store. During exams week, we could work something out with the schedule. I was extremely happy about the offer. She will pay me higher than what I got from Burger Inn. The workload is lighter and I could read as many books as I wanted.
Before I went to bed, I wrote on my diary as if I was talking to the person who was meant to read it one day.
Dear Hunter,
Today, I got a new job at Alibri. It was perfect. I wouldn’t have to wait tables anymore. My life would not be a circus every day. I’m positive I didn’t have to see much of the kids from school and get scrutinized by them on a daily basis while trying my best not to hit them with a frying pan.
I’m sure my encounter with these kids will be limited now. Hey, not many of them would be smart enough to frequent a bookshop, right?
I wish you were here. I wish I could go back to our garden again… and see the swans and the fireflies. Since you left, I never found the courage to go back there. I know I would only cry my heart out and miss you every second.
I hope you’re okay. I haven’t heard from you in a long time. It’s been… a year and a half. My diary is getting thicker and thicker. You will need a lot of time to catch up on reading it.
I miss you.
I fought the urge to cry. As I turned off my lights that night, I wondered if Hunter was still looking forward to reading my diary, the way I was always looking forward to write to him each day.