Four

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This chappie is dedicated to my boy Brandon for helping me rekindle my love for writing!!!! <3 <3 <3

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Alice's phone would not stop ringing.

It was Monday, her scheduled day shift at the Spaghetti House. Yet there she sat on Simon's sofa, certain her fist which her cheek had been resting on for over an hour was leaving an imprint. Kathleen had been calling for over an hour, probably frantically running around the restaurant asking if anyone knew where she was. Yes, it was wrong to quit a job without any notice, not even a phone call. That level of irresponsibility was something Alice always judged people for. Then again, she also judged anyone who fraternized with Isaac, and there she was. Days away from being Hanes Pharmaceuticals' newest employee. Apparently, it was hypocrite week.

"Alice? Did you hear me?" Mark asked, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"Huh?"

"I asked you if you worked today," he said. "About four times, now."

She blinked her eyes, snapping her out of her thoughts. Concern shined on Mark's face as his green eyes scanned hers as if trying to perform telepathy. How didn't she notice he was talking to her? All that was on her mind was Blaise and Isaac giving their business proposal in the grungy pub two nights ago. With the most casual, happy face she could muster she lied, "Nope. Day off today."

"Cool," he said, flashing his pearly white smile at her. "Wanna go to the movies with me and Simon?"

"Yeah, that would be great," she said quickly, barely thinking what she was agreeing to.

Without a hint of doubt in his eyes, he flopped on the sofa beside her, dropping his arm lazily around her shoulder. He was so cute with his light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheerful dimples. Normally she would melt into his touch, wishing they would finally rekindle their previous romance. Instead, every muscle in her body tensed at the familiar touch and a pang of guilt surged through her stomach at the thought of how oblivious they were to her backstabbing actions. The only person she told was Emily and it was going to stay that way for as long as possible.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "You seem a little out of it today."

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Her eyes stayed focused on the television, unable to lie to his face. "Just a little tired. Works been busy."

Simon walked into the living room, looking proud, with a large green bong in hand. "Guess what time it is!"

"Took you long enough," Mark said hopping over to Simon, looking hungrily at the glass ornament. Yet another one of Mark's actions that normally would have made her react differently. On an average day, she would have been disappointed at how quickly he ignored her for weed, but that day, she was relieved he left her presence. The knots in her stomach loosened and a breath she didn't realize she was holding escaped her throat.

"I thought you couldn't smoke because of work?" Simon asked as he lit the bowl, making the living room smell like every dorm room she had ever entered. "Aren't you going out to the rigs next week?"

"Meh. If they drug test me I'll just steal someone else's piss," he answered, inhaling a cloud of smoke. Almost immediately his eyelids drooped over and a cheeky grin grew on his lips. Mark's job on the oil field required regular drug tests, something Mark never took seriously. Somehow he managed to avoid getting caught every month despite constantly being stoned. "Alice, you want a hit off this?"

But Alice wasn't listening again. This time it wasn't because she was lost in thought. It was because for the millionth time that week Isaac's face took over the news broadcast. Her eyes were glued to his eloquent manner as he addressed the swarm of reporters around him. Every action he made was so formal...much different from the Isaac she witnessed the other night. But Isaac's formalities weren't what caught her attention. What did catch her attention was something she never noticed before. Her eyes zeroed in on his right hand, semi-covered by the podium he was speaking behind; it was compulsively squeezing a bright yellow stress ball with what appeared to have a happy-face stamped on. It was strange and looked entirely out of place with the suave persona he seemed to put on.

Beer, Spaghetti, and Pharmaceuticals ||COMPLETED||Where stories live. Discover now