Katherine Plumber was tired. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and pass out, and that's saying a lot. Her bed consisted of an air mattress with thin sheets she had picked up at a thrift store, but she didn't care the lumps or the blankets. She simply want to sleep.
Katherine's appearance painted a picture of just how bad her day had been. Waking up past her alarm was the first tally mark. She had flown out of her apartment in her sweatpants and a tee, just barely remembering to slip on a bra. Many heads were turned as Katherine ran the six blocks to New York University where she made it to her writing class on time.
The second tally was marked when Katherine ran into her ex-boyfriend at a Starbucks in between classes. Darcy had been nice to Katherine, a reminder of her life before college. Darcy had been her best friend since they were young children running around the Upper East Side. The romantic relationship had been pressured on the pair by their parents, friends, teacher, EVERYONE. Darcy had definitely not been the worst boyfriend Katherine has ever had, but when she wanted separate from under her parents' constant watch, he realized how different they were. The romance ended on a courteous note, but the childhood relationship was severed. When Katherine ran into Darcy in that Starbucks, it led to a few awkward minutes of forced conversation and Katherine wishing she was wearing something different than dingy sweats.
The third line drawn was caused by the dumb catcalls Katherine was receiving on her way back to her apartment at eleven o'clock. She certainly didn't feel like she had a nice ass after sitting in a library for hours spent researching a report. The classy men in the shadows of the bricks had whistled and commented for all their worth, but one spray of mace sent them running.
Her day could not have gotten worse, and when she reached her tiny apartment, she almost cried with relief. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest from the five floors she had climbed, but also from the sketchy neighbors who always seemed to spy through their peepholes. Katherine finally jimmied opened her door and shut it quietly behind her, locking the five locks she had installed herself. Her apartment had three rooms: her bedroom, bathroom, and a kitchen/living room. Katherine didn't have much other than a couch and a microwave, but it was home. Shedding her jacket she climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin. She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts stray from homework to sleep.
Then she heard the footsteps.
Katherine lived on the top floor of a building with an accessible rooftop. It was normal for people to go up for a smoke or simply take in the beauty of the city. It was when she heard the small explosion that Katherine got concerned. Forcing herself out of bed, she yanked on a sweatshirt and undid the locks on her door. Katherine tiptoed down the hallway to the stairs leading to the roof. She found the door wide open. Stepping out into the cool September air, Katherine definitely didn't expect what was the cause of the sounds she had heard from her apartment.
A young man was knocked out cold on the ground, a blooming bruise around his left eye and a red fire extinguisher lying next to him. Katherine had never seen him before, though with his dark hair and lanky limbs, he looked similar to Darcy. This one however was a bit more cuter. Katherine looked around the rooftop and saw no one else in sight. She stepped closer to the unconscious boy and was greeted by the scent of beer. It seemed like he had practically bathed in the stuff. Katherine had no idea where he had come from or what he had been trying to do, but her humanity got the better of her. With a lot of groaning and muttered curses under her breath, she was able to carry or rather drag the man to her apartment. She set him on the couch, and he let out a snort. Katherine froze before realizing that he was sound asleep. She snuck back into her bedroom and locked the locks on that door ( a girl can't be too safe, you know?). There wasn't anything of value in her apartment anyways so if he stole something she would live.
The next morning did not come kindly. Though Katherine had wanted to sleep so desperately the night before, she hadn't gotten much due to the fact that there had been a boy sleeping on her couch when she had closed her door. She watched the sun turn her dull walls to warm tones of yellows and oranges. There hadn't been a sound from the other room all night, and Katherine couldn't calm her heart to a normal pace. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, she got up and opened her door as quietly as she could. The faint sound of snoring rose from the couch, and Katherine tiptoed to look over the edge.
The boy was still asleep, limbs in all directions. His brown hair shimmered in the early morning light and stuck up in random spots. The bruise around his eye had turned to darker shades of blue and purple. The boy's button up and jeans were faded and worn, slightly dirty from Katherine dragging him to her apartment.
Katherine decided to let him sleep and walked over to her tiny countertop. She started the coffee maker and returned to her bedroom to change. It was Saturday, and Katherine didn't have any plans so she slipped on jeans and a NYU tee. Suddenly, she heard a groan from the other room. Katherine took the mace from her purse and walked into her living room.
The young man had awakened and was now sitting upright on the couch. He was frowning in confusion. "This isn't my apartment," he commented slowly, and Katherine laughed.
"No, it's not. Coffee?" Katherine asked, and the boy nodded his head.
"Coffee sounds fantastic. I'm not in my apartment, which means that this is yours."
"Yes, it is. I'm Katherine Plumber. I don't think I've seen you around the building before."
"Jack Kelly. I moved in yesterday. My friends and I were throwing a party, but how did I end up here?
"I found you on the roof last night."
"The roof?"
"Yup, knocked out cold with a fire extinguisher."
At the mention of this, Jack groaned and covered his face. " I can't believe it."
"Believe what? What were you doing?"
"I was trying to fly."