Alison and Ajax

chapter 1: Alison-Liberty

slow days.

The ones that seem like they hate you so much because they just won't end. Yeah, I guess I'm having one of those. I've been checking the library's tacky cat clock for the past five minutes, but it seems like i'm stuck in one time frame, because it still isn't time to close up yet.

I hate my job. I hate the smell of the biblichor given out by the old books and I hate the paper cuts I get from handling the new books. I hate having to deal with the carious kinds of people: the ones who only come here for the wifi, the ones that make me get up from my desk to help them look for a book, the ones who bring their books back in late and start to bargain on the fine price, the others who come to complain about how they need to concentrate but someone is making noise and the ones who try to start up conversation with me when I just want to do my damn job. But the ones that I loathe the most, are those that come in here to study and all. I loathe because they remind me of me two years ago. I came to this same library everyday to work myself out, but I didn't even get much in the end. I couldn't even get into a good college. And that sucks. They come in here everyday, especially the kid with the blonde hair, and they look so focused. They look like they got it all in control. I didn't have control. I panicked and I blew it so...whatever. The have a shot and I don't. so yes, I hate them. I wish they could just choose another library and stop bothering me.

I look at the clock again and I'm almost forced to smile at my fortune. "Quitin' time," I murmur to myself whilst getting up and smoothing my dress out. I know I only work for four hours but in those four hours I get even more fed up of my existence and more exhausted than ever. Someone rings the small "convenience" bell on my desk and I roll my eyes whilst taking my tote bag.

"We're closing up. It's five pm." I deadpan, still searching beneath my desk for my umbrella.

"Don't be a bitch, honey." I look up and smile at Connor, the world's best gay friend a self loathing girl could ever ask for. He got his highlights done and the green is screaming against his platinum blonde hair. Connor being Connor (and very scared of a little draft) has on a ridiculously huge trench coat.

"Did you spruce up your refrigerator?" I ask him as I lock up the library. he shakes his head. "You didn't even check if there was anyone who was still in there." he points out. I shrug and hand on of the security guards the keys, ignoring his greeting.

"If there was I hope they like paper for dinner," I joke darkly with a cackle, earning a glare from my best friend. "Anyway, did you spruce up your refrigerator?"

"I'm already having someone over for dinner, Libby." he says smugly and we walk towards the bus. I roll my eyes.

"How rich. Just when I have nothing to eat tonight." I grimace as I take a seat on the cold bus seat. they should really have bus seats preheated for girls like me with sensitive asses. The person sitting in front of us smells awful, it takes all my will power not to gag, but my face is probably showing what I feel. Connor sighs and takes out his wallet, ready to buy my favor back. I hold out my hand, expecting the expected. "Oh no," he chuckles, "bus pass." he says, thwarting my hope. I hand my bass pass over to him too and he passes them in front, his poor hands making contact with the man who smells like he hasn't showered in a century.

"Do you want me to STARVE? Huh?" I ask dramatically placing my hand on my forehead.

"Libby, please, you're stressing me out."

"How am I stressing you out?" he doesn't answer me but instead, takes his phone out and goes to his gallery. i watch intently as he selects a picture of a handsome looking man. he hands me the phone and i nod in approval. "He looks good."

"Right? And he's a doctor. He probably goes for holidays in the Hamptons or something." Connor points out whilst wiggling his eyebrows. I chuckle and give him back his phone. "Lets hope he's not like the last one."

I laugh. Connor's last boyfriend was a little on the insane side. He believed in making blood pacts and meeting up on certain dates that matched "the moon's mood". I think Connor cracked when he tried to turn his beloved living room into a shrine. It was a hell of a four months though. I love getting updates on my friend's love life. It's like Netflix, but without wasting my money. As much as I love hearing all about his romance fails, I really hope that he finds happiness. He's so amazing, he can't be alone. I won't allow it. The bus stops abruptly and I give Connor a small side hug. "Call me after your date." I instruct him. Connor nods with a diva pout. "That is if I'll have the time." he jokes with a wink. i wave before jumping off the bus. The cool air makes me shiver involuntarily as I trudge up the stairs of my apartment building.

I hate my building.

Its full of weird humans, that always want to interact with me one way or the other. I hate the weird curry smell that comes from apartment 204, I hate the fact that the landlord hasn't fixed the elevator yet and boy do I hate using these shitty stairs every time I come back from a job that's just as shitty. Everything I have, seems to be some form of punishment from the universe. It's never perfect, it never goes my way and I always have to complain about it. Long story short; my life sucks. I swear it's been like that since I was born. And after noticed that the series of unfortunate events that happen to me seemed to be constant, i started writing them down when I turned sixteen. I'm not proud to say that the book is almost full, but it just is what it is. I sigh, taking out my keys and trying to get my door unlocked. Oh yeah, i also hate this place because of my shitty door. As I'm in the midst of my daily battle with my door, i hear some pounding coming from downstairs. I stop jiggling the keys to hear clearly. The pounding noise turns into heavy and extremely loud footsteps and I roll my eyes. I hate the kids that run up here noisily like they don't have time to waste somewhere else. I go back to fighting with my door. "It seems like you're winning today, you fucking piece of trash." I murmur angrily at it. The footsteps squeak onto the floor I'm on and I stare questioningly at him.

"What the fuck?" I whisper, staring at him for longer than I had originally intended to.

Ajax Montgomery. I haven't seen him in years. And he looks like trash too. He gives me a panicked glance before starting his hurried walk towards me. "Shit." I murmur, trying to force my key to turn faster. I don't now why that asshole is walking towards me but I really don't want to interact with any other human life form right now. The glorious click of the lock makes me smiles and i swing open my door and immediately turn to shut it. "Wait!" he shouts just as I shut the door. Well if he wanted to talk or ask me where he remembers me from, too bad. The insane guy starts pounding on my door and i roll my eyes. Jesus Christ, why does this have to happen on a Monday?

"P-please open the door I have to get in!" he shouts and I give the door a confused look. What on earth is he saying?

"You've got the wrong apartment." I shout back but he resorts to trying to turn the door knob.

What does he want? I doubt he remembers me so its not a desperate attempt to catch up. The pounding is agitating, but I'm not going to let him in. No way. The guy made my life a living hell back in high school and he made his way onto my list of misfortunes. One I'll never forget. One that got me seeing a therapist for the whole year after getting out of the hospital. Whatever he wants, he can catch me when pigs start to fly because I'm not going to open this door to him. It would be a dishonor to myself. Ajax doesn't give up, in fact; he pounds on my door even harder. I grumble, the pounding becoming too unbearable, and walk towards the door. Opening the door might be the biggest mistake I'll ever make, but the noise is giving me a headache.

I hate the fact that I'm reaching out for the door knob.

I hate the fact that my Monday night is taking a turn for the worst.

I hate the guy standing outside my door.