Delivery for Mr. Popular

Chapter One

A/N: This chapter has been edited for your viewing pleasure. Please continue. 

ALISON 

"Bye mom! Love you!" I shouted as I left my house and headed off to work. After hopping in my car and driving for about 10 minutes, I reached Polly's Pizzas. Crazy, I know, I'm lucky enough to work in a place surrounded by the world's best food! 

I inhale the scent of fresh baked pizza as I make my way to the back to clock in. 

Hey! Alison, you finally decided to show up," Max, my coworker, says as he sees me grabbing my work visor with a pizza on the front. 

I rolled my eyes and laughed, "I'm on time, Max-a-million," I say, using my nickname i've had for him since I started working here 2 years ago. 

"Boss says we're not as busy today, so you're taking deliveries," 

"Fine, where's the keys?" 

I follow Max's pointed finger and snatch the keys off the rack, swinging them around on my finger. 

I actually didn't mind deliveries, they gave me something to do besides stand behind a counter talking to rude customers who didn't understand that a pizza takes more than 5 freaking minutes to cook. 

I pulled up to the first house of the night and carried the stack of large pepperoni and mushroom pizzas to the front door. 

Ding Dong

No answer. 

Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding Dong

I kept pressing the doorbell until an angry guy swung open the door and scowled at me. 

"Here's your pizza sir," I say, holding out his pizzas and holding out my other hand for the tip. 

He snatched the pizzas from me and said, "Here's your tip, brush your fucking teeth," 

I gasped and covered my mouth, breathing a little and sniffing. My breath smelled fine! What crawled up this guy's butt and died? 

The nerve of some people! 

"Well, you're bald, so I win!" I said, turning around and running to the car and driving off as I made sure to look back and see if he was calling the popo on me. 

I normally keep my mouth shut, because he's definitely not the first customer to give me a worthless tip and yell at me. 

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Five houses and 3 more angry customers later, I arrived at the last house of the night. 

I struggled to carry the five large pizzas to the front door of a house with a lot of steps. Also, trying to avoid stepping on the chain connected to the very large dog sleeping in the front yard. 

Have these people never heard of  a  freaking dog house?

Knock Knock 

This time, the person on the other side of the door didn't seem angry, just like he was in the middle of something before he answered.

"Here's your pizza," I say with a strained smile as I handed him the heavy pizza boxes. 

His green eyes lit up when he saw the pizzas in my hand and hurried to take them before walking into his house, without closing the door. 

"Uhh," I said, peeking inside.