Sketched

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ALISON'S POV

'Congratulations Miss Alison Chance!

Your application was immaculate and we would be honoured to have you as a member of our staff, here at Nando’s, Liffey Valley...'

 I had read and reread the same sentence the entire weekend, anticipating my first day at Nando’s. This opportunity meant money, which meant I would be able to attend college in September.

The thought of attending The University of Arts, London is what excited me, not the thought of serving ignorant people tasty food that I would have to refrain from eating.

The pay I would receive working at Nando’s would be meagre but, I had done my math. If I could avoid shopping the entire summer, I would definitely have enough for flights to London, the starting rent for a small one-man apartment and of course, school fees. And what was better was, if I behaved, I could get a transfer to London and work in Nando’s in the centre of London city in the evenings and weekends.

I had it all mapped out, had had it mapped out since I was twelve and it was so close, I could almost taste it. And I was not letting all these plans and savings go to waste. 

Picking up my keys, I slipped outside into the cool, clear morning. There was a slight heat against my bare arms from the weak morning sun, promising a hotter day in store.

 I walked briskly to the Bus Stop just outside my estate. The bus was my only form of transport, bar my best friend, Chelsea. It brought me into the City Centre, to Liffey Valley and to friend's houses but, I didn't mind. Of all the things on my shopping list right now, a car wasn't quite making the cut and I could live with that. I can’t bring a car with me to London.

 Plugging my headphones into my ears, I began lip-synching to The Script. Surprisingly, I was alone at the Bus Stop. As it was 8:00am on a Monday morning, I would have expected more people to be readying themselves for another tedious week of work.

 The song silenced and a familiar guitar intro began the start of another one.

 ‘You're insecure,

Don't know what for, 

You're turning heads, 

When you walk,  

Through the do-o-or’,

I wasn't an overly ecstatic fan of One Direction but, I didn't hate them. But, I think anyone who worked so hard to be where they are, don’t really deserved to be hated.

 I could never tell who was who, even when my fourteen year old sister, Beth, gave me One Direction Lessons. I could never grasp what was so horrifying about spoons or what the whole thing with carrots was about and who the hell Kevin was but, for her fourteenth birthday present I drew her a picture of all five boys, as requested. And yet, it did little to help me differentiate between them.

One had hair, the other a smile, another had nice teeth, there was one with some stubble and one had cute eyes. That’s all I knew.

My bus pulled up to the kerb, hissing to a stop. I shuffled around my pocket, retrieving some change to pay for my fare. Dropping the coins into the metal box, I took my ticket and scanned the bus, searching for a vacant seat. It wasn't too hard to find, considering the other passengers consisted of a woman with a pressed suit and a briefcase and two men with messy hair and smelt overpoweringly of alcohol and vomit.

 As I sat, the final lyrics of What Makes You Beautiful rang out before switching to Bruno Mars.

 I watched with distaste as the men shared a pocket sized bottle of whiskey between them, the woman mirroring my expression. Disgusted, I turned to face the window and watched as Lucan whizzed past before we pulled onto the motorway. There was one delay, when a young boy, about the age of sixteen got on, but other than that the journey was delay free.