Chapter 7

Do I have a life out of work? No. Do I try to have one? Yes. So here I was. After the little mishap in the Boss' office, I was convinced I needed to go out for a stroll round the park. That's where the local band plays. Around six thirty-ish, when the mayhem is just going on and about the streets and rusty old benches creek under the weight of moms with their kids. I would of course fit into the lively spot as such.

I walked around the block, the usual passing crowd of students, homeless pickpockets and scums in black suits. I am just exhausted from watching them all the damn time. I just hate the corporate world, but then it's one of those things that you can't really live without. Like carbs. I reached for the cashew cracker I had in my pocket. Tearing open the foil, I took a bite; eyeing an empty bench in the distance.

The scent of evening air was a mix of street food and sweat. The sun is treading on the edge of the horizon. I checked my watch, I still had a good five minutes before I could go back and leave for home. I ate the cracker in the noisy comfort of the place, still sitting in the shadow of the grey building of JAX's.

"Hey," I heard a friendly voice, and turned to see a guy sit right next to me.

He had curly blonde hair, and grey blue eyes. His lips were curved into a placid smile. He sported a Maryland Jersey with gym shorts, a matching cap in his right hand and a water bottle in the other. Crow's feet formed near his eyes when he smiled. But he looked like he was in his mid twenties.

"Hi there," I said, giving him a similar smile, though caught off guard at first.

"Long day?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with a queer charisma.

"Aren't they all?" I shrugged.

"Not always. Do you work here?" He said, pointing to the building in the background.

"Uh. Maybe," I said, not sure if I am supposed to talk with strangers about work and stuff.

"What about you?" I put it in, hoping he would just let it go.

"I got a gym around the block. I come here for a walk to cool off when done. I have seen you… Quote a few times." He said, his smile growing now. Kinda cute.

"Well, maybe I am just too much into my head to not notice before," I said, shaking my head and giggling. Get a grip, woman!

"Ah, I would very much like to get in there then," He said, and I stared at him with a wide open mouth.

"You, what?" I asked, and he broke into a fit of laughter.

"Easy there. I just… am not good with jokes." He said, tapping his thigh lightly as he put his cap aside.

"I am Wren." He said, trying to break the awkward tension.

"Amelia," I said.

"Well, I- I am not really good at catching jokes. So we are good. I guess." I added hesitantly, biting into my cookie; getting a side glance at his frame. I hope he wasn't staring.

"I was wondering if you'd…" He put in, turning to face me as he moved closer.

"Well, want to exchange numbers?" He put in, and something within me churned. He wants to be friends with me! I did a once over of him, watching him from head to toe; fearing he would catch me in the scrutiny. He looked athletic, daunting but not too much. Besides, I could make a couple friends given I have nearly none in Seattle.

"You don't have to," He put in almost abruptly after.

"Well, here is mine. If you ever wanna catch up." He held out a business card, and suddenly I felt I was in a corporate meeting. I tried to not look shaken.

"Well, thanks." I said, taking the black piece of cardboard with the initial W. I will check it when I am done with work. My eyes stuck to the watch. I am running late.

"I should get going. I was just out for a break. See you around." I said, giving him an awkward smile as I walked around the block.

When I reached JAX's, I was already five minutes late. My legs felt Jell-O, and feeling impossibly deranged I walked to my cubicle desk. A stack of new tally sheets lined up with a brief information on the deadline period. I dig into the work, turning on the computer.

***

"Abuela, I am home," I said, dumping my bag on the couch as Captain woofed and walked to me.

"How's my little boy," I said, leaning down to give him a pat.

"Amelia! Stop throwing things around," Abuela scolded, as she walked out of her bedroom. She was wearing her plain white nightgown, and had her reading glasses on. Her face was wrinkly with wisdom, and hair a glint of silver.

"Mrs. Morgan called. She wants to meet you as soon as you can," Abuela said, her face a criss-cross of lines.

Mrs. Morgan was the landlady. She was a cold and reserved woman who lived on the ground floor. It was impossible to get your word across her.

"I will be down in a minute," I said, running into the kitchen and getting myself a glass of tap water.

I skipped the steps down, my heart beating fast. What could she possibly talk about that wasn't bad news?

I rang the bell, waiting for her to open, only to find that the door was left open.

"Mrs. Morgan?"

"Just sit on the couch, Amelia," Her cold and shrill voice came from the inside.

I took my seat. Taking in the interior of the small living room. The walls were pastel yellow shaded. On the wall opposite to the couch was a large mantelpiece, and next to it hung a portrait of a couple. A smiling woman in her wedding dress, with her buff and groomed man. The room reeked of lavender, and I noticed the vase placed on the seete.

The sound of her walking stick came before her. Creaking against the ground, she walked from the kitchen to the living room. Her stoop back balancing against the stick as she walked in her rose pink dress.

"Here," She said, not saying much and handed me a piece of paper.

"Eviction notice," I read and my throat turned dry.

"I want you out before Saturday." She said, and then turned away; not even acknowledging my presence out of courtesy.