Lillian Perkins is having a horrible day from start to finish and a clueless Dakota Thornton waltzing into her workplace in need of a book for his sister doesn't exactly bring her stress level down. Not to mention getting stuck in an elevator with h...
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My alarm wakes me up with a start, my heart beating irregularly as my hands flail around trying to grasp my cell phone.
Just as I press snooze, my dad's voice hollers from downstairs, "Lilly! You're going to be late!"
I grunt as I push myself up onto my forearms, my eyes fuzzy from sleep. As I sit up, the loose bun on my head flops to the side and the stray hairs around my face spread over my vision. Blowing out of the side of my lip, the hair parts enough for me to see the light shining through the glass of the french doors to my left.
"Lillian!" He yells again, scaring me. I jump, pushing the blankets off of my bare legs and reaching over to grab my glasses from the white distressed bedside table.
As soon as the square frames are pushed up my nose, I blink rapidly while my pupils burn. With a loud and frustrated groan, I walk to my door and scream, "I know dad! Just go to work, I'll ride my bike!"
"Alright, if you're sure!" He responds, "Be safe, see you later, love you!"
"Love you too." I say more to myself with a small smile.
My dad and I have been alone for the last three years now; just him and me.He doesn't like to talk about my mom leaving us and I'm more than happy to oblige. I'm not going to say her leaving wasn't the most painful rejections I will ever experience. What I will say is that I'm done answering questions about it and I've given up on the hope that she'll come back.
It's not the worst thing to happen to a person so I tend to keep quiet about it. My dad seems to feel the same way.
So, seeing as it's just the two of us, we share one car. This becomes very complicated when we have different work hours. During school it's easier with my part time hours but now that's it's summer, I'm now working full time. Therefore, I require a full time vehicle of my own.
As I mumble to myself about the Mini Cooper I so obviously need, I pull the white scrunchy from my hair and roll it onto my wrist. My hair falls around my face in unruly curls and I silently curse myself for forgetting to brush my hair after my shower last night.
Not even having time to put my contacts in, I grab my mascara to put on later and shove it into my small tan leather backpack. I almost rush out the door when I realize I haven't even put on pants yet.
I hang my head back, tugging at my hair from the stress. "Really, Lillian? You just had to sleep in your underwear." I scold myself, ignoring how stupid I feel talking to no one but me.
After tugging on some old blue high waisted Levi shorts and a dark yellow short sleeved shirt, I shove my feet into my dirty white Vans and throw the loops of my backpack over my arms. Giving myself one last good enough glance, I release a deep breathe through my lips, and I head out into the heat of the summer.
As soon as I'm adjusted atop my bike, I regret my decision to leave my hair down, the hair sticking to the back of my neck with sweat. My nose curls before my hands come up to pull the thick strands into a low bun, the shorter pieces falling around my face.
Looking around once, I adjust my shorts the best I can to avoid the wedgies I most likely cannot avoid from riding my bike two miles and start on my way.
The first few times I was forced to ride my bike to work, my legs burned and ached and I lost my breath almost immediately. By now, I still feel those things but just not as intensely and my manager got sick of my whining about it so now I just suck it up.
"Ugh." I exclaim with my head hanging back when I hit a busy street, cars zooming by hazardously and making it nearly impossible to cross the street.
I hit the crosswalk button about seventy five times before the light changes and I'm able to peddle across. By the time I have my bike locked up and secure, I'm almost fifteen minutes late and I can practically feel Amelia seething disapproval from inside of the large three story building.
Showing up late when you work at the most laid back place you could ever possibly hope to work, feels a lot like the walk of shame. Especially when you work with mostly old and middle aged women who are all sticklers to time management. For my birthday last year Edith, one of my coworkers, bought me a book called "Sticking to A Schedule" which was about four hundred pages long and still had the clearance sticker I put on it the month before.
Don't get me wrong, working at a bookstore is pretty much a dream come true for me. I get to read on-sale books on and off my breaks (as long as Amelia doesn't catch me) and I usually get to meet really cool people. That or a bunch of weird individuals. Either way, I'm more than grateful for the opportunity to work here.
"Lillian...." Amelia seethes from behind the counter on the first floor of the building. The exact position I was meant to be filling fifteen minutes ago.
"I'm sorry, Amelia." I rush to explain, my skin wet with sweat and my heart pounding as I adjust to the air conditioning. "I slept in and my dad needed the car and...I have no excuse." I sigh, my shoulders slumping as I pull my backpack off and set it behind the counter.
I feel her deep brown eyes on me as she watches me down her nose, her thin wired glasses perched atop the bridge. "It's fine, Lillian, just don't let it happen again. This is the fourth time this month and it is completely unacceptable."
"I know. I'm sorry." I hang my head in shame, my stomach grumbling quietly. I squeeze my eyes shut, inwardly screaming at myself for not packing lunch or eating breakfast.
"You're a good girl." Her aged hand is placed on my bicep. "Just do yourself a favor and buy a car would ya?" She snickers, pointing her index finger at me and giving me a firm look.
I release a laugh, nodding my head and offering her a salute. "Aye aye, captain."
"Good." She gives me a glare but I see the smile in her chocolate eyes. "Now get to work. I'm not running a charity case here."
"Sure sure." I hop onto the stool, the cash register sitting directly in front of me. My eyes zero in on the mystery novel I tucked away on the shelf below behind my spare jacket I always leave here.
"Oh and Lillian?" Amelia stops, the sound of her stubby heels on the wooden floors ceasing.
"Yes?" I freeze, sitting up extra straight with my hands folded.
"No reading until your break, okay?" She sends me a wink before shuffling off, wrapping her sweater around her as she goes. How that women manages to wear sweaters all year round is astonishing.
"Yes ma'am." I grit my teeth, hunching over the counter with my face in my hands. Now what am I supposed to do?
