Chapter 1

"Alice! What on earth is taking you so long to get that bread out of the oven? We have customers waiting on their sandwiches! So help me God, I will fire your-," before Francis, my boss, could finish her threat, I rushed past her with an over-flowing tray of hot bread. The funny thing is that, I know full well that I am as clumsy as a drunk person who is hobbling around on crutches. So, here I am, full pan of bread, hustling up front. Well, I'm sure you can just about guess what happens. A fucking uplifted tile, that I have face-planted before because of, caught the toe of my shoe. In that moment, when I landed in a heap of freshly cooked bread on the floor, I was sure that I just needed to drown myself in my bathtub tonight. Seriously. I cannot do anything right, ever.

"Son-of-a-," My cursing was cut off by a shrill scream from my boss. I cringed and covered my face, knowing what was coming next.

"Alice! Get in my office, now! You, new-person, clean this mess up, NOW!" Francis roared. Slowly, just in case Francis happened to be packin' a nine in her over-sized, baggy pants, I got off the floor and sauntered into her office, throwing myself into the chair that was situated across from her's with a desk set between them. I heard her clomping footsteps coming down the hallway and I pulled up my legs and wrapped my arms around them, staring at my chucks.

"I, I just, I don't know what to do with you, Alice. I can't exactly fire you for tripping, but Jesus Christ! It happens all the time! How can someone be so fucking clumsy?" Francis' words spewed out in a quiet but menacingly way. I took a deep breath, trying to find some sort of way, some sort of explanation that could save the only job that I have. The job that pays for the shitty apartment I live in and the POS junker Toyota Camry I drive. But no words came forth. I froze up and continued staring at my shoes.

"Alice, I'm not going to fire you, but please, I beg of you, do not, and I will repeat, do not rush those incapable little legs of yours in my restaurant again. Or, I will fire you for not adhering to the safety rules of this establishment. Do I make myself completely clear?" Francis asked me in her annoying deep voice. I'm sorry, but a woman should not have that deep of a voice. She must be some kind of cross dresser? That would explain the baggy pants! Aha! Alice you have done it again!

The loud sound of Francis' hand slamming down on her desk broke me out of my daze. I nodded at her furiously and jumped out of my chair, walking slowly to the door, just to prove that I was going to listen to her about not rushing anymore. I need this fucking shitty, minimum wage job. Without it, a box would be my only choice of living arrangement. Shaking my head, I walked up front to help out the new girl who was running around rampantly, trying to keep up with the flow of business. I scanned the lobby for Jonah, but I couldn't find the mousy bastard anywhere.

"Angela, where is Jonah?" I asked in a neutral tone, jumping in to help her. "Hello, what would you like?" The customer looked startled at my sudden appearance. I chuckled lightly at her momentary disorientation.

"A six inch, chicken-bacon-ranch on flatbread , please. American cheese. Oh! Toast that as well," the woman requested. I nodded with a smile and went about preparing her sandwich. After placing the sub in the toasting oven, I looked at Angela in expectation.

"Well, where is Jonah?"

"Oh, um, well, there was this-" Angela started to mumble. I cut her off.

"Where is the little bastard?" I asked in annoyance, utterly sick of Jonah disappearing while on the clock and leaving people to their own devices during a rush. Angela gulped before answering me.

"He's out by the dumpsters. Probably smoking," she said, nervously. Just then I heard the backdoor open and the rumble of the trash bin. Jonah smiled hugely at me when he walked up front and started to wash his hands at the sink.

"Did you have a nice trip before?" Jonah asked with a smug grin. I'm sure that he meant his scrunched up facial expression to be, I don't know, attractive, but I thought it was downright hideous. Jonah is one of those pieces of shit who walk around like the world owes them everything and a half. I thoroughly dislike the moron.

"Oh not as much as I will like the trip that my fist takes through the air to collide with your ugly ass mug! Get fucked, Jonah," I whispered vehemently into his face so the customer waiting on her sub wouldn't hear. Jonah laughed loudly into my face and squished his lips together to make a kissy face at me.

"Come 'ere, Baby, I will make all that pent up sexual tension go away. I know you ain't ever been laid," he whispered back. I could smell the smoke on his breath. With a look of disgust I turned on my heel and moved away from the atrocity. Just then the beeper went off on the toaster, signaling that the sub was finished. I quickly retrieved it and placed it back on the sub-bar.

"Any veggies?" I asked the woman, looking at her for the first time. She didn't answer me right away, too wrapped up in her Blackberry to hear what I said. Her brownish-red hair was draped in front of her face because she was hunched over her phone. The woman was tall and had a very fit body. She wore a nicely tailored woman-suit, or whatever you call 'em and closed toed high-heels.

Suddenly, her head snapped up in recognition of the question that I had asked her moments ago. Our eyes met and I immediately was swallowed up in her dark brown eyes, they were almost black. My breath caught in my throat before I realized I was being a stalkerish moron just staring at her and pulled my lips into a smile while raising my left eyebrow in question.

"Uh, what? I'm sorry," the woman said, apologetically. I waved my hand at her and shook my head.

"No worries, ma'am. Any veggies on your sub?" I repeated the question in a cheerful voice, still fighting to keep my breath steady when she smiled hugely and flashed her white teeth at me. Oh, fucking dammit, she's so beautiful.

"Ugh, well, I think I will have some pickles, lettuce, and onion. Go light on the mayo and ranch though," she answered finally. I started to fill her sub with the appropriate ingredients and was aware that she was watching me. Her teeth were biting her lip slightly and she was tapping her fingers against the side of her phone, which she held by her right thigh.

When I finished her sub, I wrapped it quickly and rung up her order in the register.

"Four-fifty, please," I said in an even tone, trying to remain calm while this beautiful woman opened her wallet and rummaged through the pile of cash she had stuffed in there.

"Can you break a hundred?" she asked with an embarrassed smile. Her cheeks flushed a light pink and I smiled involuntarily.

"Sure can!" I said with a little too much enthusiasm. I internally punched myself in the face for sounding like such a fucking idiot. My God, no wonder I don't have a girlfriend. I'm a moron.

"Okay," she said, handing me the bill. I grabbed it and accidentally brushed her finger tips. Tingles streamed through my fingers and traveled up my arm. I couldn't stop the quiet gasp that escaped my lips. I instantly coughed into my elbow to cover up my dumbass. Jonah was laughing behind me and Angela was leaning against the sub-bar, watching "nonchalantly" as I made a complete and utter fool out of myself. This woman made me fumble more than normal and I had to recount her cash three times to make sure I hadn't messed it up. Oh my, I need to be fucking shot. Where is Francis when you need her?

"Um, well, here you go! Enjoy the, uh, the rest of your night, yeah," I said, all the while dying a little more inside with each horribly delivered word.

"I will, you too, Alice," she said. I was momentarily caught off guard that she knew my name, but then my slow-ass brain finally comprehended that I was wearing a name-tag. Oh my God, duh.

"Thanks-?" I made it sound like a question, trying to get her to disclose her name. I cheered inwardly when my stealthyness worked.

"Bella," she informed me. Then with a graceful turn, she walked through the restaurant, through the doors, and into the gleaming black Mercedes Benz that she drives. I will openly admit, I totally checked out that ass.

"Wow, Alice, you really outdid yourself there. I mean, she was swooning there at the end. I totally thought she was going to jump over the counter and dyke fuck you right there on the sub-bar," scoffed Jonah. He was leaned over, laughing his nonexistent ass off at my supposed hilarity. Angela shook her head slowly before adding, "Jonah, be nice. If I were, you know, gayyy," she drew out the word "gay" like she were tasting it on her tongue for the first time. "I would have been totally enthralled by that woman. So, Jonah, shut up!" Angela finished her sentence with a huff and quickly moved to grab the broom and furiously sweep the lobby. Angela was still relatively new, but I was still taken aback by the, by her standards, "outburst". She was usually so quiet and neutral on everything. I couldn't believe that she stood up for me, not that I needed it or anything. Jonah is just an idiot. I don't give a flying fuck what he says.

"Let's get this shithole closed up for the night. I want to get home," I jumped when Francis was suddenly behind me. I nodded and moved away from her quickly, but not too quickly to be unsafe, and started packing up the sub-bar. Jonah, being the ever so helpful person he was, leaned against the soda machine and pulled out his phone. Francis threw up her hands in annoyance and stalked back into her office. I sighed deeply and got to work. The faster I finished, the faster I got to go home to my empty, shithole apartment.

~!~

After we finally finished closing, I threw on my jacket and walked outside into the brisk October night. I pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lit one up. Leaning against my car door, I inhaled deeply and looked up into the cloudy sky, honestly surprised it wasn't raining in the moist town of Forks, Washington. The wettest city you'll ever see. I chucked darkly to myself at my inner thoughts. My eyes followed Jonah as he jumped on his beaten up motorcycle and sped away, without a helmet on, mind you. Angela shook her head at him and walked over by me.

"I swear, if you look up idiot-moron-dipshit, you'll find his face plastered all up and down that fucking page," Angela said in an annoyed tone. I almost chocked on my own spit when I heard that come out of her mouth. She surveyed me questioningly. "What? Don't agree?"

"I fucking say "here, here" to that, but I never knew you could shell out an insult of that caliber. I had you pinned as a quiet person who felt bad for saying "damn" on Sundays," I answered. Angela chuckled at my misinterpretation and pulled out her own pack of smokes and lit up.

"You're twenty-one, right?" Angela asked after a couple minutes of silence between us. I simply nodded.

"Want to get a drink or something? I don't want to go home to my drugged up, piece of shit husband quite yet," I nodded again, surprised at the small glimpse that Angela gave me into her life. She was married? I hadn't noticed the small gold band on her ring finger before. Her husband is a druggie? What. The. Fuck. You think you have someone pegged, turns out, you're an even bigger dumbass than you thought.

"Let's go. I need some, 'I don't remember what happened last night, but all I know is my head feels like a bus ran over it', kind of fun," Angela smiled at me and walked around to my passenger door, opened it, and climbed in. I flicked my cigarette to the ground and followed suit.

A/N: Okay, stop yelling! I know I haven't updated "An Epic Twilight" in awhile, but I suddenly got the inspiration write this, so, um, deal with it? Mkay. Well, here's the first chapter of "Insert Title Here". I apologize for the swearing, but oh well, there will be a lot in this story. I hope you enjoyed. 5 reviews and I will post another chapter.