Beneath The Static [The Wanted (Jay McGuiness<3)]

Fresh Disappointment: 1 Tablespoon (14.3 grams)

The next morning I wake up and as much as I tried to convince myself that I didn't actually have the best time of my life with the boys of The Wanted, the facts were facts. They had been like long time buddies but hours after taking them back to the hotel I knew they'd forgotten about 'Holly Grimms from New York'. I was another drunk girl pining for their attention. I wasn't. Never had. But having them in my memory so firmly kind of sucked.

Passively, I study my alarm clock. Monday; 6:30AM. I had to go to class in a few hours but the subway and rail was two and a half hours by itself and I was dreading lab time with my injured hand but I'd get through it. I always do. I was normal Holly again as I force myself out of bed. Not that I was a different Holly with Jay and the others but they surely added another facet to my life for the hours that I knew them. My shower turns out a little too hot but I get through it as fast as possible, cursing the building's faulty plumbing the entire time. My wardrobe is casual; jeans, tshirt, and sneakers. I'd just change into my uniform when I got to school. I blow dry my hair and put it into a neat bun, grab my school bag, sling it over my shoulder and lug my bicycle down the stairs; starting off as soon as wheels meet pavement. 

Over two hours later and I enter the Culinary Institute of America building in all it's glory and head immediately to the restrooms where I change into my uniform and change the bandaging on my hand.

"A little late in your culinary career to be making rookie mistakes don't ya think?" My instructor pokes fun at me as I enter the room.

"Not culinary related Chef." I sigh and drop my bag by my seat in the lecture room.

"You okay to work today?" I take the question almost like a challenge.

"Of course Chef." I confirm.

"I've told you Holly, unless it's during class hours, please call me by my first name."

"Sorry, Ch-" She gives me a warning look. "No problem Alana." 

"So what happened?"

"Fell on some broken glass." I shrug. I knew I was lying but I didn't want to have to explain my day away and falling on glass was completely plausible because she knew I lived in the city. "I'm fine now."

"Your knife hand?" I nod. "Take it easy then. Don't agitate it."

"Thanks." I sit in my seat and take my notebook out, opening to a fresh page and jotting down a header, writing down the agenda  in the top-right corner of the page. I laid my highlighters neatly to the right of my notes and today's textbook at the upper-left portion of my desk.

"Nice to see a bum hand doesn't hinder your organisation." Julian sits next to me. I roll my eyes. Julian is an over confident sort of guy who keeps on about how we need to date because, and I quote; "Beautiful people like us belong together." He wasn't bad looking but the way he eyed me made my skin crawl sometimes. In all honesty I didn't think I was beautiful, cute maybe, but not beautiful. I was an entire five foot and some seven inches. I was equal portions torso to legs. Since I was little I was teased because of my tendency to be unshapely and rail thin but in recent years I'd managed to put some meat on. Which I was dead convinced was directly related to my time in culinary school. I was pale and had some disdain for sunny days. Not helping my paleness was my long mane of dark brown hair or my hazel-green eyes. Julian, in his arrogance also took to calling me by my middle name.

"So Jezzy, whatcha doin' this next saturday?"

"I think I'm working." I shrug.

"You might be the only girl I'll travel and wait for." He winks. Julian lived in a small house on his parents estate in Poughkeepsie. He was an assistant coach for his old high school's boys soccer team. Julian was someone my well-to-do parents would be proud to call their son-in-law. I suppose in all my small offenses, that made me a rebel. I was supposed to be a neurologist, marry a proper man like Julian and have kids, supposed to live in a big house and send my children to private school. I was thankful I got the benefits of that life but I never was happy. I valued that more. "You're not very talkative."