The Mail Boy

Chapter 13

"Oh, rumor on the streets was that Lucas was going to ask you to go to homecoming with him," she said. "I thought maybe that was why you were so upset," she added.

"No, he didn't ask me," I said. "Homecoming's already here?" I asked her. She nodded.

"Yeah, it's this Saturday. Where have you been?" she asked.

"Preoccupied," I mumbled.

"Belleza?" she asked.

"I hate that place so much. I'm so glad I only have like, two more months there before I'm done," I said.

"Well, you are going to homecoming right?" she asked.

"I honestly don't want to," I said.

"Why?! It's our senior homecoming!" she cried.

"And it won't be any different than junior year. Or sophomore year. Or freshman year," I replied. She frowned at me.

"Your lack of school enthusiasm disappoints me," she said.

"You're obsession with school enthusiasm worries me," I shot back. She gave me a look.

"So you're going to make me go to homecoming all by myself?" she asked, making her voice whiny and high-pitched. I rolled my eyes. Here goes the guilt-trip. "You're going to make me go alone so that I can get hit on by pig-headed jocks and get grinded on by horny guys? Little old me? All by myself with no one to defend me? And you promised Jake that you would watch out for me," she said dramatically. I blinked at her and then started to clap.

"Well done, Maya. You almost had me convinced. But only almost," I said. She slapped my arm and I snickered.

"Tori!" she complained.

"Fine! I'll go! Get off my back!" I exclaimed.

"Promise?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah. I promise," I replied, rolling my eyes. She squealed and hugged me.

"Yay! Let's go dress shopping tomorrow!" she said.

"One step at a time, Watson," I said. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, Holmes," she mumbled.

I arrived at Belleza at my normal time, reporting to my desk outside of Aunt Joliet's office just on time. I found a clipboard with the day's agenda on it and sighed.

I was only on my second week of working as an intern and I was already tired of it. I did the same things everyday: pick up Joliet's dry cleaning, run her errands, make her phone calls, and fetch her dinner. It was the same routine day after day and I was getting bored. I needed some entertainment. I needed something different.

So on my break that day, instead of hiding in the employee lounge like I usually did, watching all of the too-skinny workers fret over how many calories were in their salads, I went down to the mailroom.

It was quiet when I got down there. The lights were dim and there was a rather loud buzzing noise in the background. I heard the sound of a radio playing a song from The Point. I smirked. Whoever was down here must have good taste in music.

I wandered around the lowest level of Belleza, looking for signs of life. As I walked, I examined my surroundings.

The floor was shiny and made of a pale white linoleum material. The walls were also painted white, but it wasn't the glossy paint that the rest of Belleza was painted in. It was more like a rough, sandy to the touch kind of paint. I could hear the loud hum of the heating and cooling system and figured that this was where all the machinery probably was.