The Not so Ordinary Life of Alice D. Kylee

Chapter One

There was a time when I had friends and I wasn't so alone.  It sounds depressing but for me it was a fact that I like to savor. I "had" friends, "had" being past tense meaning I don't have them anymore. I didn't mind their company once in awhile but they got annoying after a while. The only person I keep in touch with is Julie, my best friend, but even she, I rarely ever speak with her.
The word 'friendship' is almost foreign to me, I've gone three years after college without any friendly encounters, not that I'm trying to meet up with them or anything, you could call me a shut in or you could call me a busy person. Take your pick.  To go even further, I've been living in my apartment for about three years now and besides small greetings with my neighbors, I know nothing about them whatsoever, yesterday was my first real, if not awkward, (and short) conversation with one of them. I didn't even know all of my co-worker's names (I kind of feel bad about that actually). The only person I could call a friend right now is Samantha, but we're only on a business based relationship I can't really walk up to her and ask her about a personal problem. I know many people that are comic book authors that I regularly see for screen tone checks and the like, but I don't have conversations with them.
I wasn't the best at making friends; people came to me, never the opposite. Julie was one of the first people to actually hold an ongoing conversation with me. We met in fifth grade. I thought she was really weird; she kept on becoming my partner in class and would always sit with me for lunch no matter who asked her to do otherwise. She would laugh at my dark humor and sarcastic comments and would encourage me to do what I wanted. Julie would always bring her other friends over but they would never last a full lunch since it got awkward but I didn't mind and neither did Julie.
We were separated after high school though, and Julie would text each me occasionally but she gradually stopped after finding a guy named Greg. He's so amazing; she would say in a text occasionally, He said the cutest thing to me at dinner. Our texting became all about him and soon they stopped coming altogether. After that I decided to not talk to her anymore and continue with my work in college. A couple months later, Greg and Julie got married. I was notified two months after the wedding.
Even without friends for the past three years I've been doing great on my own, I don't see why every girl was so enticed on getting a boyfriend or even a girlfriend for that matter.  I don't have to worry about my parents coming over unexpectedly because we never really speak to each other after they divorced, so I'm home free and alone. Living on my own is amazing; I really don't have to clean up after myself (unless it's disgracefully messy), I don't have to eat 'normally', and I don't have a specific time to go to bed. It's practically heaven.

My morning was almost the same as the last, but this time I had remembered my wallet and phone.
"Shoes," My new neighbor from last night stated as I exited my apartment. This was my second encounter with him and looked like it wasn't going to be long either. I stared at him blankly for a moment before realizing he meant me and not him. I looked down to see my pale bare feet without a single thing covering them.
I cringed in embarrassment and turned back into my room and slipped on a pair of light pink sneakers. I headed back out of my apartment to find my neighbor still standing there. He looked down at my feet and nodded. I stared at him once more and took in his features; light skin, electrifying blue eyes, shaggy blonde hair that ended abruptly at his shoulders, thin lips that pursed together in a tight frown, his eyebrows tilted downward into a permanent look of anger.
He wore a light green button down shirt with a simple white vest over it, black khakis were accompanied by black dress shoes, in all he looked super professional compared to me; a red sweatshirt, worn jeans and pink sneakers, my hair was pulled back into a high tight ponytail. He looked down on me and started to walk down to the elevator, following slowly behind him, I fumbled with my wallet trying to stuff it into my right pocket.
I didn't see that he had stopped and ran full power into his back. Falling onto my butt for the second time in two days, I exhaled at my stupidity and jumped to my feet. My neighbor glanced down at me before moving his shoulders back and forth.
"What do you do?" He asked abruptly. I scrunched my eyebrows and thought for a moment before returning to my original look.
"I'm an editor and publisher." I said hoping he would in turn tell me something about him as the elevator doors opened widely. We both stepped inside; I stood on the far left, him on the right as he pressed the button that read 'first floor'. I held my hands tightly behind my back not wanting to continue the conversation.
            "Anderson Carlston." My neighbor said stating his name. I glanced up at him, and then down to the marble floor.
            "Alice Kylee, nice to meet you." Anderson nodded in response. Damn, even his name sounded professional. There wasn't anything professional sounding or looking for me, I was just some normal 26 year old girl. The elevator opened suddenly and we both walked off. I stepped lightly on the floor and strode to the two glass doors only to stop suddenly as I peered outside from the doors.
            Rain fell to the ground softly, falling into multiple puddles and thunderous cloud rumbled luminously in the dark lit sky. Cursing at the weather under my breath I turned around to fetch my umbrella while Anderson walked into the rain, a light smirk playing at his lips before leaving.
            After retrieving my umbrella and rain coat from my apartment I deftly opened the door to the hellish outside and fought my way to the bakery shop down the road for a fast breakfast.
Liz's Bakery and Café, the only thing close to a restaurant on the left side of town, was a small colorful café owned by the Irish entrepreneur Liza Gafolding. The orange tinted glass window led into a large opal room that was darkly lit, bright metallic flowers were decorated on the barren dark oak walls with pictures of Liz's upbringing in Dublin, Ireland. Square modern tables were strewn across the floor with matching retro white chairs. At the end of the scene was an assortment of baked goods ready to be purchased on a small order station with a cashier register to the left of it, behind this was a door leading into a very large kitchen, the smell of fresh baked goods and coffee wafting over to my senses.
The door swung open revealing very, very curly, bright, orange hair, "Alice, m'lady, how goes the day today?"
I forced a smile, "So far so good."
Liza Gafolding, one of the very few people in Aldridge who made it a point to one day become a friend of mine. With a heavy Irish accent and an alarming bright smile she led me to my favorite table and set me down comfortably, handing me a menu as she did all this. She snapped her black suspenders and sauntered off to greet the new customer behind me.
Today she was wearing one of her more simple outfits; red ballet flats with a white bow on top, a silver anklet, light blue capris, a white polo shirt tucked in at the belt, black matt suspenders, and large blue oval earrings hanging almost to her shoulders. Her curly hair was tied back into a messy bun with a blue bandana to top it all off. The first time I saw her I thought she was a full on patriot (only to later realize she moved to the states from Dublin five years ago.)
I sat and stared at the menu, already knowing precisely what I was going to order.
Soft piano jazz was being played in the background somewhere distant as Liz approached me again.
            "The usual?" She asked as not really a question but more of a statement, "Turkey sub on rye with a tall caramel espresso?" I nodded and looked up, startled at what lie in front of me.
Large green eyes met my own blue eyes, inches apart, "Ya gonna get somethin' else? Try something new for once." Liz smirked deviously.
"Just the usual, Liz." I said blandly swatting Liz away from me. She sighed obviously vexed by my attitude.
"One day I'm gonna make you try something, even if I have to force ya."
"I wait for that day in anticipation." I said bluntly. Liz scoffed and smiled and swiftly ran back into the kitchen. After that, not much happened. I paid for my order and then left, a to-go coffee mug still in hand.
Outside was still pouring rain with heavy rain clouds above; I raised my umbrella in defiance and forged through, making it to my office. Trees swayed lazily in a soft breeze as I ran passed and cars zipped by me splashing up water from unseen puddles unto my clothes.
Reaching RetroBookside with a heave of exhaustion, I opened the door carefully and shut it in record time. Looking at the time a seeing that I only had seconds to spare without being called officially 'late' I booked it down the hallway and into my editor's office. Throwing off my raincoat and placing my umbrella on the coat rack I rushed over to my desk. As soon as I was situated I received a call from my boss.
Uh-oh.
I slowly picked up the line and was assaulted by a bombardment of slurred cursing and inconceivable words. As my boss slowly calmed down, I got the idea of what he was yelling at and instantly hit myself.
He finally stopped, "Alice?" He waited for a moment before my initial emotions hit.
My heart pounded in my chest, it finally happened; I screwed up. The manuscript Samantha promised never got through to me, which initially meant that the printers didn't get it, which meant that magazines didn't have it, and final selling would be a day behind schedule. Damn, I screwed up bad.
And to this I laughed, a terrified heart wrenching laugh that could only mean my inhalation in my line of work. My head was spinning in molasses, my thoughts were jumbled up so bad I didn't even know why the hell it mattered so much to me, my final thought before going back to sanity was Good job, you screw up. After a minute of this I finally had enough courage to try and speak.
"I'm sorry." I said in a hushed whisper. I hung my head low, trying to get away from the stares of my co-workers.
My boss only sighed, I could almost see his hand sweep across his face in agony, "I know. Get your ass down here."
"Yes, sir." And with that I hung up and slowly made my way to death row, or my boss's office to be more exact.
Ten minutes later I was cleared, to be more exact I had official permission to hit Samantha really hard in the head if I saw fit. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to strangle someone but I mostly wanted to strangle myself for being such a klutz as always.
There was nothing worse than knowing one day you would screw up just because you were you. Knowing that made it infinitely worse and taking the punishment of that failure could be taken with pride or humiliation. I did the latter.
Sucking in what little dignity I had left was tough in itself and the long walk to Samantha's house couldn't have felt any longer but as soon as I knocked on Sam's door I knew I could pull through, if only for a little bit.