Author's Note: To those who read the prologue, I promise this will come together, and soon!
Alicia stared out the window of the classroom and doodled in her notebook. Everyone in the 12th grade English class had slipped into their usual stupor. The room was just too warm, it was April, and the central office hadn’t turned off the heat yet. It wasn’t like they were going to let each school have its own thermostat. The teacher stood in front of the class, lecturing about the absolute brilliance of Shakespeare’s A Twelfth Night. She had read it, and was disappointed that her teacher had left out all the dick jokes. Maybe then the class would have payed attention.
Her school, Thomas Jefferson High School, was a huge cement building that had managed to contain the unruly masses for almost a hundred years. Adults always said high school was the best time of their life. Clearly they were part of the popular crowd. But, graduation was just around the corner. For most, it meant a summer of celebration before shipping off to college. For Alicia, it meant she could pick up extra shifts at the coffee house. Maybe she’d take her sister to the pool. At least it meant she didn’t have to sit in the remedial English class for one more day listening to her teach drone on about how high brow Shakespeare was. She pulled on her tightly curled hair and stared out the window with increased enthusiasm.
The bell rang, making half the class jump. Alicia rose to her feet and swung her backpack onto her shoulders. The increased level of noise in the hallways made clear the time of day. Lunchtime. Alicia plunged through the hoard of kids, plowing with singular determination towards the cafeteria. When she pushed the double doors open, the noise assaulted her ears. Hundreds of high schoolers all shouting to be heard at the same time. She waited in line for her lunch, it was the square, lunchroom pizza as usual. She walked to her table, nodding greetings to a half dozen classmates before sitting down to eat.
Her end of the table was empty. She wasn’t a loner, she just hadn’t invested the energy in making friends. After high school everyone was going to scatter. She just didn’t see the point. Alicia ate quickly, then took her bag up to the library. It was silent here, a nice break from the regular cacophony of the school day. Everyone was at lunch, so she had the entire place to herself.
Alicia sat in one of the rows, back pressed against one shelf of books, staring blankly at the other. She used to read like crazy, devouring five books a week, but slowly life began to creep in. Homework and jobs and taking care of her sister, all eating away at the time she used to spend curled in the corner of her bed, book in one hand, snack in another. Even now, surrounded by books, she wasn’t reading. Alicia closed her eyes, tilting her head back and letting herself relax.
The librarian found her asleep when he came back from his lunch break. He’d seen her in the library countless times before, but she never said anything. Just came to look at the books. He didn’t even know her name. Quietly he walked away, letting her sleep for just a little longer. She looked like she could use it.
Alicia woke up and jumped to her feet. She glanced at the clock on the wall and made a face. She had missed half of period five. The librarian saw her stand and waved her over.
“I wrote you a pass,” he said, pushing it across the desk like an offering. It was rare when a student came into the library for the books. Usually it was to use the computers to hastily write a forgotten essay. “Next time there’s a couch in the office that might be more comfortable.”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Alicia mumbled, still disoriented from her impromptu nap. “It won’t happen again.”
She took the pass and hurried down the cold white hall. The librarian was sorry to see her go. Before returning to class, Alicia ducked into the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing the face that stared back at her. There was a line across her cheek from where it had been pressed into a book. Her hair, she wore it natural, had a flat spot in the back. She pulled at it with her fingers and splashed water on her face. One last critical glance in the mirror, and she was out the door.
The last hour and a half of school past at a crawl. After the final bell rang, there was a mad dash for the doors. It was one of the first really nice days of spring, and everyone was itching to get outside. Alicia stood on the steps of the school, letting the sun pour down on her face. She opened her eyes, and gave herself a mental scolding. She had things to do, and she already wasted an hour taking a nap.
Her beat up sneakers pounded the cracked sidewalks as she traced a path, almost automatically, to her after school job. She had been working at a local coffee shop for two years, ever since she had been allowed to get a job. It payed fairly well, better than McDonalds, and the owners were nice. They let Alicia have the day off if her sister had to stay home from school.
The coffee shop was small, but surgically clean. Every surface was scrubbed until it shone, and the furniture got new paint at least twice a year. Despite the painful cleanliness, the shop was cozy. All the chairs and tables were mismatched pieces the owners had scrounged from local thrift shops. The walls were covered in framed newspaper articles of local people’s accomplishments. There were regulars that had visited the shop every workday for the last ten years. It was the kind of place that made you feel warmer just by looking at it.
Working there had always been much better than most high school jobs, and Alicia knew it. As long as there were no customers to serve, she could do homework behind the counter. Vacation and sick days weren’t really an established system, when she really needed a day off she could take it. And every holiday the couple that owned the place sent her home with a cake to share with her mother and sister.
When her shift ended at seven she helped close up shop, wiping down the counters and stacking the stools. The sky was already darkening, even in April the sun seemed to set too early. A chill was in the air, the wind pulling at Alicia’s hair as she began her walk home. The streetlights had yet to click on, giving the entire city the look of a watercolor painting. The light from the sunset illuminated the shopfronts in reds and purples, everything had a backlight golden glow. Alicia walked with her sweatshirt wrapped tight around her body, head down, watching the pavement blur beneath her.
She was almost home when she heard a scuffle break out. A girl’s panicked cry, the sound of someone falling, the sound of a man laughing. Alicia began running, her thin soled shoes sending reverberations up her legs. She could hear someone calling for help, the voice sounded young. She kept jogging, scanning down each side street, searching for the source of the noise.
Just as she passed by a skinny alley between a Chinese restaurant and a hair salon, she saw them. Two guys had cornered a girl in a dead end. Alicia summoned all the power she could in her five foot two inch frame.
“Leave her alone,” she said, standing in the mouth of the alleyway, hands on hips. The men didn’t turn around.
“This doesn’t concern you,” one of them called over there shoulder. “Just keep walking.”
Alicia felt rage boiling up in her. She scanned the street, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. A couple of plastic bags and a single shoe. The old fashioned way it is. Slowly, she slid her backpack from her shoulders and took off her jacket. She didn’t want anything restricting her movement. One of the men turned at the sound.
“I thought I told you to get lost,” he growled. He started walking toward Alicia, quickly closing the small space between them. “If you’d just mind your-”
Alicia’s fist connected with his jaw. He staggered back, and spat out what looked like a broken tooth. Alicia grinned. This is the pick me up she had been looking for.
The man roared in rage and charged. Alicia ducked his clumsy attack easily, getting in two quick jabs to his stomach before spinning out of reach. His partner had now taken notice, and had left to join the fight. Alicia kept her back to the alley wall, glancing quickly at the man on either side. Both were at least fifty pounds heavier than she was, but she wasn’t worried. Bullies never bothered to learn how to fight.
But she had. When she was little, her dad would spend hours wrestling with her, teaching her how to break out of holds and use a larger person’s size against them. Soon they graduated to boxing gloves and trips to the local gym. After each workout, they would get french fries and walk home really slowly so Alicia’s mom didn’t see them eating junk food. When her dad was deployed, Alicia kept sparring. When he was killed, she started fighting.
Alicia sunk into a shallow squat, waiting for them to make the next move. The man at the end of the alley stalked closer, careful not to make the same mistake his partner had moments earlier. As soon as he was within striking distance, his fist shot out toward her face. She dodged to the left, grabbing his arm and twisting in a way arms aren’t meant to be twisted. She felt a pop and heard a strangled scream. The man fell to his knees, clutching his dislocated elbow.
“Get out of here,” Alicia said to the girl. Until this point she had remained huddled in a corner of the alley, clutching her bag to her chest. Alicia’s words seemed to wake her, and she raced past her two attackers and back out into the lit street. The kid looked no more than fourteen. Alicia felt her anger grow.
She began stalking the man still on his feet, moving closer and closer as he struggled to regain the wind she had knocked out of him. He raised his fists halfheartedly, and moved to block her path of escape. Somehow, she wasn’t concerned.
She crept closer, until she was just feet from the main street. Together, the man and Alicia moved to strike at the exact same moment. His fist swung sloppily towards her eye, while she shot out a foot toward his knee. Her blow connected with a solid crack, but in her excitement she had underestimated the length of his reach. She felt a fist collide with her eye, a blossoming of dull pain. It wasn’t a particularly hard hit, she’d definitely had worse, but hard enough to leave a bruise that would need covering tomorrow.
The man’s knee, however, could not be fixed with concealer. Both men were now on the ground, groaning and cradling their injured limbs. Alicia felt a warm glow of satisfaction growing in her chest. Then, the sirens began wailing.
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