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Chapter One
Ace
There was a stain on my jacket, not noticeable, but enough that I wanted to immediately shrug out of my black coat and toss it in the trash. Was it from the oatmeal this morning? Or was it from that bleary-eyed guy that stumbled next to me with a pickle in his hand and a weird smile who had me immediately thinking I was about to get shanked?
No idea.
The point was.
I was late.
I hated being late.
Actually loathed it.
If a person came up to me and said, do you want to die or be late I would choose death, that’s how much my anxiety crept up on me. I’d like to think that I got better over the years, the therapy, the wonderful drugs that were given to me to help me calm myself.
In the end, it was yoga that hit hard along with self-talk. I just had to talk to myself about why I was feeling the way I was and stretch, then I was good, so I had no clue why the stupid stain was making me want to go to prison.
I walked into the elevator and took a deep breath.
Those were good for you, breaths, as my Apple watch loved to remind me.
I took another and finally felt at ease. I was hiring a recruit today and the patience I’d need to just sit while watching people touch their face or move in their seats would be—huge. They should thank me for not losing my mind while a hair touched a cheek and smudged lip gloss.
I shuddered.
Gross.
Lip gloss was the worst, it stuck onto things, lips, jackets, cloths, napkins, food. I shuddered again. The worst kind was shiny, it was always stickier and the young people that came in for new hires almost always had it covering their giant lips.
Don’t even get me started on the filler.
Get stung by a bee instead… easier, cheaper, and probably organic.
I took another deep breath in, then paused.
I paused, I never paused… but the person in the elevator with me was suddenly on her knees and looking up with blinking eyes like she had no clue she existed.
“Um?” I held out my hand, prepared to wash it off later about a billion times, but I didn’t want to be rude. “You good?”
Her hair was jet-black, her eyes were bright blue, and she looked up at me like she hadn’t seen another human in years. Her small fingers gripped mine while she stood wearing a very, very, very sad looking black suit with a missing button in the middle and shoes that had been clearly tarnished on the sides. Even her hand was cold. “I’m not good.”
Honesty. Well, that was new. “Okay, do I need to call someone or?”
Her eyes welled with tears. “I have nobody to call.”
It hit me.
Because I didn’t either.
And I hated it.
I hated I had nobody, that I was an orphan, that nobody other than my best friend Dustin cared.
I kept her hand in mine, something that was so not my usual MO since I hated all germs and all things that made me feel dirty.
I held it in mine. She was warm where I always felt cold and indifferent. I didn’t say I liked it, but I did like how our random hands touched and moved against each other.
