Chapter 4

September 24, 2007

"What do you mean, it won't go through?" Elizabeth's eyes flashed angrily as she leaned into the counter of the grocery store. There were a dozen people behind her, but they would just have to wait. This was her life. Her face was red with embarrassment and…anger! Yes, she was angry! She was shocked that this sort of thing could happen to her. She adjusted her black leather jacket over her crimson, spaghetti-strapped dress. Her high-maintenance chestnut hair was in deep need of conditioner, but she had left hers at home, and she didn't trust this town.

"It says that the card is invalid." The short, caramel-brown haired cashier informed her.

"That's bullshit! It's my card!" Elizabeth screamed, slamming her hands onto the counter like a child. "I need to speak with your supervisor." She went on, about ready to jump over the counter and strangle the teenager with her perfect, manicured nails. The toe of her white flats tapped impatiently against the squeaky floor.

"She's at lunch." The cashier countered, looking a poor, pathetic coward who would run as soon as Elizabeth turned her back.

"Then call her back here!" Elizabeth ordered, meeting the burnt tapioca stare of the teller.

"I have to check everyone else out. You should consult your bank." The girl suggested.

Elizabeth glanced at the nametag that hung haphazardly over the girl's white cotton blouse. "I'll have your job, Georgie." She vowed, storming out of the store.

She was practically thrown out of the thrift store posing as a whole food establishment! The nerve of that stupid girl! Not to worry, she always had a plan. She didn't have one right then, but she would before the day was out. Gnawing on her nails, smiling at the thought of her mother catching her doing such a thing, she sunk down on a bench in front of the library that happened to be across from the grocery store. It wasn't a large library, but then why would it be? This was a small town filled with small-minded people, Elizabeth mused angrily. She would show them not to mess with her.

Since her card clearly wasn't of any use to her-she would call her father and demand an explanation when her ears stopped ringing-she found a park and walked around a picture perfect pond, staring unseeingly at the brown and white ducks, the fluster of geese, and, rarely, she'd notice the flapping of a fish. It was the middle of the afternoon, so there was no reason for anyone to be around. They had to be at the Blue collar jobs to support their low-class lifestyles. At a park in the middle of the day? It was uncalled for, she bet. When there was money to be made, they were at work. As a port town, she wondered how it was able to stay afloat.

The sights and sounds were quite relaxing. Elizabeth took her neon blue iPod from her purse and pushed the ear buds into her ears. She heard a sound behind her, but she just turned the volume up on her player and shut her eyes. There was a slight migraine building in her head. She knew the cause. Money always stressed her out, well not having any. Why had he cancelled her card? She hadn't even been gone twenty-four hours! Had he gotten into trouble with the law? Had he fled to Mexico? Ridiculous, slightly amusing, scenarios started playing out in her mind.

It was only when her iPod was knocked onto the concrete did Elizabeth even think to look behind her. Apparently, the culprit was holding a beige purse with a long strap and a buckle on the front. Hadn't she just seen that purse in a magazine? Clearly, she wasn't the only one lost in suburbia. The girl, looking to be a few years younger than her eighteen years, had honey-blonde hair, her curls so long they fell to the small of her back. Her eyes were sparkling or she might have been crying. It was unclear from this angle. Where were they? Vegas? Why was it so bright out? Elizabeth slid her sunglasses on and took in the scene in front of her.

She was fighting with a guy that seemed to be her age but could have easily been older. His hair was short and spiked the color just a shade lighter than the girl's. Elizabeth reached down to retrieve her iPod before she turned completely around to figure out what the spat was about. They were too far away from her to hear what they were saying; apparently something had escaped the purse and knocked Elizabeth's player from her loose grip. The guy slid an uncertain hand through his hair and tugged at the girl's handbag. Was he a mugger? Did Port Charles have those? And here she had thought that they were a criminal-free-everyone-hold-hands kind of town. Her dreams were dashed for sure.

Sighing, not wanting to get in the middle of this, Elizabeth approached them, their voices soft and muffled as they spoke. It was only when the girl's voice rose did Elizabeth slide her hand into her own bag and retrieve her weapon. She charged forward like a lost Yeti, screaming all the way, and brought her hairbrush down so that it smacked the guy in the face. He went down like a sack of potatoes and the girl met Elizabeth's shiny eyes with her own fearful ones.

"It's…okay." Elizabeth assured her, attempting to put her hand on the girl's shoulder for comfort, but bending forward instead to catch her breath.

"Are you high on something?" The girl wanted to know.

"I can't even afford a cup of coffee. Don't worry though. He can't hurt you now. He's down." Elizabeth insisted.

"You just assaulted my friend for no reason!" This was what doing the right thing got you: a pain in the ass.

"He grabbed your bag!" Elizabeth argued.

"He wanted an embarrassing picture I took of him." The girl shot back.

"How was I supposed to know that? This stupid town. "Elizabeth muttered.

"You don't like Port Charles? Go back to wherever it is you came from. I'm sure you can fly away on a broomstick." The girl replied, crouching down next to her unconscious friend and brushing his hair away from his eyes.

"I was just trying to help. I was mistaken." Elizabeth forced the words through clenched teeth, not wanting to fight with anyone else today. Couldn't they just leave her alone? She didn't go looking for trouble; it just knew where to find her.

"What's your name?" The girl inquired, rolling her eyes when the guy moaned aloud.

"Why? Are we friends now?" Elizabeth asked sardonically.

"I just want to know what to tell the cops so they can arrest you for assault." She clarified.

"It was a hairbrush!" Elizabeth insisted.

"A blunt instrument is a blunt instrument." The girl retorted.