Stain [H.S] - Major Editing

3

"Spiderman? Spiderman? But...why? He's not even that cool, Ally."

"He is." I defended. "Chief Morrison seemed to agree with me."

"Let me guess, you gave him the whole with great power comes great responsibility speech, didn't you?"

"Not exactly. I can't believe you showed him my essays though." I said in disdain as I sat at my very own desk. I began arranging my place—filling up the pen holder with my favorite ballpens and setting up my laptop in front of me.

"Can't help it." said Fry, who sat at a desk across mine. He grabbed an apple and bit a chunk off. "It did help though, right?"

"It did but, it made things...easier, you know? And I hate that feeling of achieving something special without having to go through a rough challenge."

He shook his head in disapproval. "You are such a sufferer, Alice. Just be thankful that you got in, okay? That's what matters most here."

I sighed deeply. "I am. I really, really am. I just find it frustrating that—"

I was interrupted when Mr. Businessman walked in front of us, placing his laptop case on a vacant desk beside Fry's. Looks like he got the job too.

Standing behind his desk, he started arranging his pens in a meticulous manner, as if lining them up so that they are perfectly spaced and even.

He grabbed a hand disinfectant from his bag and spritzed some on his hands, three spritzes...four spritzes...five...six...seven...then some on his desk, which surprised me really but I decided not to be rude and comment on it.

Fry though, decided against it. "You know, my mom's a germaphobe too. She was really strict on things, hated bacteria so much that she made me and my brother wear surgical masks and gloves until we were fifteen." Fry said, smiling as he spoke.

"She made us think that cats and house lizards give off some sort of mutated rabies virus and that touching them can give us ginormous cooties forever," he continued. "You can imagine our horror whenever we saw a stray cat from the neighborhood or say, a random lizard on the wall. The whole concept still freaks me out you know. It scares me."

"Nobody cares, Kinney!" a random voice from the cubicles section said.

"Somebody, play the violin for him!" another voice howled, followed by a hushed roll of laughter.

Fry shook his head. "Ha-ha, very funny Ronaldo. You should try to be a comedian. You're a goddamn natural." 

The tall guy looked at him, gave no comment, and went back doing his cleaning business. I covered my mouth to conceal my laughter as Fry looked at me in an expression of sheer defeat.

"I can relate to you, bro." He tried once more. "I've turn on faucets with my elbows too. Don't worry, if you need somebody, a partner to share excessive hand washing stories perhaps, to sing Kumbaya around the campire with, I'm here, always ready to help a brotha' out."

The guy sat on his chair and wiped his spectacles. He looked at Fry, and then gave me a fleeting look. "That wouldn't be necessary, brotha." He said and I snickered. His British accent made it sound even better. "I'm good."

"Is this boy bothering you honey?" A woman, probably in her mid-thirties with coarse and frizzy hair approached us and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "'Cause I can Dina-smack his mouth shut for you if you want. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Right, Fry-Fry?"

Fry stuck his tongue out at her.

A young intelligent looking man with a buzz cut hairstyle plopped his things on a desk beside mine and huffed. "Dina, if you please? It's nine am for Christ's sake and you're already scaring the fresh meats."

"I ain't scaring nobody, Liam honey. I'm protecting. I don't want green bean here spread his sleaziness around the innocent cubs." She replied with so much sass. I was starting to like Dina.

"Hey! Who you calling green bean, woman?" Fry protested. "I gained three pounds last week! Three!"

"I love green beans." Liam commented.

"Drop in the weight room and lift some weights, brotha." Tall guy said and we all look at him. "What? Those gangly arms need some serious mass."

We burst into laughter, and for the first time in a long time, I actually felt...happy. Content. 

As our laughter died down, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Hey newbie. I'm Liam Payne, veteran editorial writer." He reached out his hand for me to shake.

I shook his hand. "Alice Walker, um, beginner."

"You know, between you and me," he leaned over to my desk. "I'm actually glad that Rosie's gone. Her excessive yogurt obsession's been driving me crazy. I mean, imagine having to throw her trash and yogurt cups every—single—day. It's insane!" He said, waving his hand around.

"Why'd it have to be you to throw her trash?" I asked.

"Because she's an indifferent pig." Fry said with a smirk.

"And she was my desk-mate. I couldn't work under her...chaotic conditions so I had to clean her stuff and arrange them for her. It was a fucking nightmare!" Liam said.

"Language, Liam." Dina said in the background.

"Now that I think about it, I've never even heard her thank me. Not once."

"That must've been a horrible experience." I said.

Liam looked sour. "Dreadful."

"Rosie and Jeffrey have been very...cooperative co-workers, people that are worth remembering in the GS." Dina said and I catch Fry rolling his eyes. "But we have to move on, people. I'm sure Alice and blueberry muffin here has a lot more to offer."

"It's Harry." The tall guy said, reading a manuscript on his hand.

I looked at him, intrigued at the way he sat—upright but relaxed. The pens on his desk were neatly arranged, papers carefully stacked, and of course, hand sanitizer. He then caught me staring at him, and I looked down at my desk, embarrassed.

"I'll stick with blueberry muffin." Dina said and grinned. "It suits you well, hun."