Chapter 1

I’m average. Average height, average weight, average job, average life. Excitement is an experience which I’m not very knowledgeable of. I’ve lived in a small city all of the 24 years of my life. Same roads, same buildings, and the same faces. Familiarity can be comforting, but there’s a different between one blanket and twenty. I felt suffocated. So three weeks before my 25th birthday, I decided to move. I spread my wings and flew to the big city of Denver. I’ve loved it here ever since I was a child. We would take field trips to the museum, and it was in those moments where I saw buildings higher than I ever had, streets bustling with traffic, and faces so unique I couldn’t get them out of my head.

I desperately wanted to move when I was 18, so I decided to take the first typical shitty receptionist job. What I didn’t know was that it would be more of a personal assistant, office manager, janitorial, all encompassing sort of job. I worked 60 plus hours a week, and that was just to pay my bills and put food on the table. I hardly ever had time for fun. Fun was eating Chinese leftovers and getting to watch maybe one or two episodes of my favorite show before falling asleep in front of the TV. On this night, however, I was just itching to go out. I don’t know if it was because I had only been to a total of four places the past six months or if it was the sign I saw for half off margaritas on my way home from work, but I decided to pull my bike off to the side just to maybe get a drink or two before going home to pass out. I chained up my bike and headed inside, plopping myself down on a worn-out, blue vinyl stool. I ordered a margarita. The corny tropical decorations made me think this must be one of their specialties.

The bartender handed me my bright green margarita with a little umbrella stuck in the top. As I sipped down the sugary sweet alcohol, I looked around the bar. It was fairly empty, only a few groups of people. That was to be expected seeing as it was only 8 PM. The ice clinked to the bottom of my drink, so I waved down the bartender and ordered another. There was some vacation show on the flat screen TV at the end of the bar, so I thought why not enjoy another drink and stay a few more minutes? Two drinks were the price of one, after all.

I’m not sure if it was the first drink taking effect or my subconscious just wanting to go home, but I downed my second drink even faster than the first. I knew I had about a 15-minute bike ride the rest of the way home, so I definitely needed to use the bathroom here, unless I wanted to be caught on the side of the road relieving myself. The bartender was busy mixing up more cocktails for a gay couple who had just come in. They seemed to know each other because they were deep in conversation. I scanned the bar once more to see if I saw the restroom, but instead I saw something much different.

Her.

She was magnificent. She had chestnut brown hair that came down to her shoulders, with bangs cut right above her piercing, bright green eyes. At first, it was the leather jacket which caught my attention. It was draped over an almost nonexistent ripped shirt, and lace from her under top was sticking out. She looked like she could kill a man; she wore ripped jeans and big, black, leather boots. Her eyes stared off somewhere. She seemed to be there with a few friends but they didn’t seem to have her attention. She was looking out the window somewhere. I just couldn’t stop staring at her. She was so beautiful yet so intimidating, The opposite of average, she was extraordinary. She made me feel so weak and vulnerable, and I didn’t even know her. Suddenly, her eyes cut to me, like she knew I was watching her the entire time. For a second, I couldn’t stop looking, but then I lowered my gaze. What if she was angry I was looking at her? What if she comes over here and says something? I looked back up to see her talking with her friends like nothing had ever happened. Someone must have made a joke, because she laughed, and her face radiated like a million stars. I needed to get out of there.

I slapped a $10 on the counter and ran out, not even worried about the change or going to the bathroom. I fumbled with the key to my bike lock and once I slid the lock off, I jumped on my bike and sped off. I peddled so fast I cut my trip in half. I was sweating and panting and really had to pee, but all that was going through my mind was this girl.

I had never liked girls, never looked at them any differently than myself. I’ve only ever dated men, and the worst at that. But there was something about this woman in particular who I just couldn’t get over. She had such a strong presence, and all I wanted was just to get to know her. It wasn’t until I finally used the bathroom and sunk into my couch, I realized I would never get the chance. The chances of ever seeing her again in this city is slim to none. I just wanted to punch something. I finally felt something for once and I ruined my own chances as usual.