Drunk words, sober thoughts//Blake Richardson

Chapter 1

Let's just imagine that Blake and the rest of the boys are like 17/18 so that this story goes. OKOK bye

Holly

I usually don't work this late - strike that, I never work this late. But when Casey Black bats her ridiculously long lashes and asks to trade shifts so she could go to her strikingly gorgeous boyfriends party, you usually don't say no. Well, at least I didn't. Casey and j were in pretty good terms. When our schedules matched at work, I enjoyed working with her. I didn't have any other "girlfriends" and the tall, blonde-haired, blue eyed girl that every boy wanted to hook up with, unexpectedly became one of the only girls I could trust.

And that's how I ended up doing dishes and mopping the floors on a glorious Saturday evening while the rest of my peers were engaging in activities that included alcohol, weed, and of course, unprotected fornication. I wasn't totally miserable though, It wasn't like I had anything better to do in a Saturday night. Crazy parties usually weren't my type of scene.

I lived in Kent, London - a pretty big place I guess brimming with water bugs and fancy, rich folks and in the midst of all the fair skin and blonde hair, there was me. I stood at a staggering 5 foot 3 with golden-beige skin, and not to mention my hip length Black hair.

"Hey Holly"

"Jesus" I jumped out of my own skin, dropping the mop in my hand and shipping my body round to meet my boss drea, who stood with her arms up in a mock-defence.

"Sorry" she shrugged. "Didn't mean to scare you. You okay?"

I pulled out one bud from my ear, "I'm good, my heart only fell out of my ARSE hole, but other than that. I'm good!"

Drea sensed my sarcasm, "ha ha, funny. Can you take out the trash please? I'll finish mopping and then afterwards you can go get yourself into some shenanigans"

"By shenanigans if you mean a tub of salted caramel ice cream and the season DVDs of pretty little liars, then I'm down for a crazy night. I might even throw in some soda - non diet" I joked

I wrapped the earbuds around my phone and slipped it into the back picked if my skinny jeans. One if the reasons why u liked working in Starbucks were the uniforms - there was none. At least not ridiculous ones. We had an official grey t-shirt with the Starbucks logo on the front and in the back was a pair of numbers along with a name or nickname of our choice. It was like a player jersey, and Drea who was also the owner, really instilled the idea of teamwork into our system.

The majority of my coworkers chose their last names to be printed in the back of their shirts, while the rest of us, myself included, wanted to be more expressive. That is why instead of my first name holly, or my second name McMann, I decided to go with my nickname: shutterbug. As I loved cameras.

If love at first sight exists, then i can safely say that my first shit at love was with a toy camera that my parents bought me for my 7th birthday. From that day forward, photography became my life. My pay checks went into camera lenses,lighting Kits,mediating softwares, whatever. When it came to capturing the moments, I always felt the beauty in the ones worth remembering.

After gathering all the filled trash bags from around the shop, I plopped them all into a long metal cart and pushed it out the back door. The back door led out to s small alleyway where the dumpsters were. Taking out the trash wasn't too big of a deal for me. But on this particular night, chucking guests' leftovers into a smelly dumpster became one hell of an adventure.

"Damn it how can u be so freaking stupid"

I stopped rolling the cart and dropped down, hiding behind the huge pile of overstuffed trash bag. I peeked my head to catch a glimpse of a figure at the end if the alleyway kicking the du later. He was tall, and wore s bright shirt. He raised his fist and collided it with the wall. My eyes widened as he whimpered in pain.

"Ow fuck! That was an idiot move. Well I am an idiot! An idiot who-"

He barfed.

"Ugh, gross," I stuck out my tongue in disgust. It was clear to me that this dude was totally drunk, and slightly stupid.

Maybe he wasn't harmful?

I took my chances and stood up from my position. Slowly when a higher-level of cautiousness, I pushed the cart forward. The sound of the rubber wheels to asphalt caught the guys attention and he turned his head.

"Whos that?"

"No one in particular? I uh, am just taking out the trash," I answered. I continued forward, and as I got closer to the figure, the street light hit his face and u j ew for sure that he was harmless. "Blake Richardson?"

"how do you know me ." He asked.

"We go to the same school", I answered truthfully. I lifted up the heavy dumpster lid and pushed it with my might. The metal lid crashed against  he adjacent wall with a loud, echoing thud. "So why the hell are you out here? Aren't you a few miles away from home."

Blake. Shrugged "i was at a party."

I threw the the trash into the bin, "and you left? It's only like one in the morning. I didn't think thee Blake Richardson left parties early"

"I just got tired, okay! I wanted to go home!" He snapped.
"Sorry" I threw my hands up and I observed the boy before me.

Blake Richardson was the poster child for popularity. He moved here during our junior year of high school and immediately was welcomed with. Open arms. I mean even I had to admit that he was good looking. Tall, brown hair, dark brown eyes, plus he had an awesome accent. He fir in well with the popular crowd and we rarely spoke k, unless it was to borrow a pen or a simple 'excuse me'
Once again, I pushed the dumpster li d and it plummeted back into its place. I grasped into the cart hand,e, "are you going to be okay out here? Do you need me to call a ride for you?"

I want
Tied for a moment till he answered. His mouth didn't lien, but his actions spoke louder. He collapsed onto the ground, hiding is head into his knees. I ran after him, crouching down in front of his weakened body.

"Hey Blake, you're not okay. Come on, you need water," I grabbed his arm which hugged his legs and pulled.

He lifted his head, "what are you doing?"
"Taking you inside. You're obviously too drunk to function, and you're in major need of hydration. I can't leave you out here alone," I explained to him.  I continued to pull his arms until he stood up. He draped his arm around my shoulder and slowly, I helped him walk back into the kitchen.

When I opened the back door, the sound cued Drea, "that took you a while. What took you so-- who's that?"
"His name is Blake. He's drunk and needs water and carbs to soak up alcohol," I explained quickly. I pulled out a wheelie chair and pushed Blake into it, who  immediately covered his eyes, blinded from the bright fluorescent lights. Drea grabbed a large bottle of water from the refrigerator along with some leftover food.

"Here', Drea handed me the supplies.
"Thanks," I said. "Luke drink up, and eat some food"

This is only a short chapter and it's pretty boring because it's only the first one. I promise it'll get better