Kendra is a strong-minded girl that knows what she needs and won't let anyone stand in her way of achieving her goals. Marissa is a shy, invisible girl that is just trying to get by in the world. When they meet, both of their worlds are shook. Every...
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(Marissa's POV)
I look over at Kendra, who looks like she wants to disappear. This makes me smile a little. She almost looks offended at herself for asking what I think about lesbians. I hold my laughter in, and manage to keep cool.
"I don't mind them. I've only ever been with one before." I reply gently.
Kendra almost looks like she got slapped. Her eyes get wide and she doesn't look at me for a moment. After a moment, she takes it upon herself to let her eyes roam my body. This makes my cheeks heat up. Does she like me? I mean, she is really pretty. She probably would never settle for someone like me.
She clears her throat.
"I'm going to the bathroom." She mumbles, half to herself.
I nod and watch her leave the kitchen. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding and notice that my hands are a little shaky.
"Stop it, you." I grumble at myself.
You are to work, not be attracted to your coworkers.
No more.
Focus, you moron.
I slap myself in the forehead and continue baking.
****
After I take out the last batch of cookies, I gaze up at the huge wall clock. It says 6:37pm. Maurice, my new boss, told me that I could go home at 8. I honestly dread the idea of going back to my lonely apartment, hiding under the blanket to avoid the bitter cold that reminds me of just how poor I really am; unable to pay my heating bill. Someday I'll live in a real house with fleece blankets, new curtains, and heat. A house so warm that when I walk inside, the warmth of the house makes me shiver away the harsh cold of the outside world and forget about everything else. I'll have a kitten or two that will mewl at my feet and beg to be held every time I take my boots off. I want a house that gives me my own comfy little slice of Michigan.
Kendra's voice and the sound of her footsteps entering the kitchen breaks me away from my thoughts.
"Where do you live?" She asks.
"In a small building near the gas station. W-what about you?" I stutter.
"I live by myself in my house near the grocery store." A real house?
I'm instantly jealous of her. I bet her house is beautiful.
"Do you live by yourself?" She asks.
"Y-yes. It gets lonely sometimes."
She looks the pan of cookies like she's planning something in her mind.
