Unknown woman - regular and underlined

Mrs. Summers - bold and italics

Chapter 1: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻

Sunday, April 3rd

He needed to forget.

The blood boiling in his veins, the fury that was stirring inside of him were instantly forgotten when Cory downed his third shot of tequila. There was a burning sensation in his throat as he stumbled toward the bar.

His vision was doubling, his speech was slurred when he asked the bartender for another shot and he felt himself sway back and forth. You wouldn't typically find him at a bar or a nightclub. He despised them for the rowdy drunks that hit on women and the low-lives starting fights for miniscule reasons. Tonight was an exception, only because his father was a massive pain in his ass.

Cory flinched when he felt a tap on his shoulder. With his intoxicated state, he saw a blurry gorgeous woman with brown locks cascading down until her breasts that she was twirling with her finger, plump lips and a dress that accentuated her boobs.

The unnamed woman started flirting with him, her hands traveling from his shoulder all the way down his arm. "What are you doing all alone, handsome?"

Cory wasn't alone. His friends were on the dance floor with their girlfriends, but he didn't want to tell her that. She looked gorgeous. He looked her up and down and saw her tanned, skinny legs, her striking caramel eyes and slim figure. He wanted to see how far she would go with her flirting.

"Come dance with me, baby." She offered her hand and guided him to the center of the dance floor. Her fingers were intertwined around his neck and she maintained a close proximity as she swayed to the music.

Cory didn't mind the closeness. In fact, he encouraged it by pulling her closer by the waist. Lust. That was all he felt with her in his arms. He didn't know if it was because he was drunk, but he wanted her. Needed her to help forget. He spun her around so her back was against his chest, her arms remaining around his neck.

Cory was addicted to the feeling of her hands that slid down his arms. He could barely hear the music. His focus was only on her — nothing and no one else. Cory couldn't smell the stench of alcohol that lingered around him. He could only smell her strong and floral perfume.

Her acrylic fingernails found his hands and placed them firmly on her waist. She moved her hips and closed her eyes, her attention only on the feeling of his chest. This woman's mom taught her to fight for the man she wanted and she wanted him. She was determined to make him hers.

-

Cory's friends helped him into his house and offered him a glass of water to sober up. With the alcohol slowly draining from his system, he didn't only feel a headache, but he was reminded of his dad's disappointment. Ever since his brother got married and had the twins, he felt pressure to get his dad's approval.

He knew that with Jordan starting his family, he'd have to step it up and get serious about joining the family business. Cory's heart was in football. That was his one and only passion since he was nine and he wasn't about to give that up. His fingers automatically found his lips where he still felt the mystery woman's kisses.

Cory couldn't get his mind off of how soft her lips were. How her tongue felt when it was exploring the inside of his mouth.

Cory found his wallet on the bedside table and pulled out the slip of paper with her name and number on it. Kendall. He needed to text her to say he was drunk and that that dance, that makeout session was a mistake.

Thursday, April 2nd

Several hours earlier...

Gracie hated her job. Actually, that didn't quite describe just how much she disliked it. She despised her job from the very depths of her soul. When it was busy, she behaved all flustered at the register and her hands shook as she counted the change to give back to the customer.

When it was deader than dead in the store, they were folding clothes on a continuous loop, over and over again. But there was one thing she needed more than she hated her job. Money. You need money to survive. To fly back and forth to Washington to visit your sister who remained in your hometown. To be able to afford things such as food.

Only an hour into her shift and her feet were already aching, despite her more comfortable shoes than the non-slip shoes she had to wear at her old job. She sporadically complained in her head, as a way to not come off bothersome and negative all the time, about the exhaustion that caught up to her. Her eyes swung toward the kids that their parents brought in. 

Some looked ages eight through thirteen. They were craning their necks as their eyes were glued to their phones they were most likely bought after a whiney tantrum was thrown. One of them even ran into one of the display tables, but that didn't seem to faze them.

They continued their zombie-like pace, following their parents to the summer top rack. The legal age to start working in Arizona was fourteen. That meant that these children still had several years of mooching off their mommys and daddys money.

They wanted an iPad, they got one. They wanted to ride in the carts because their brains forgot to walk. Sure, why not? When the day comes that they have to grow the hell up, they are in for a rude awakening.

Gracie's blood boiled in envy as she watched the kids pretend they were zombies with concerning phone addictions while she was stuck behind the counter.

Her ideal job was something that allowed her to work from home. She didn't care what the job entailed. Whether it was graphic designing which Gracie felt was easy to learn with the right technology or writing articles or blogs for companies that reached out to her requesting her service.

She wouldn't have to worry about asking for time off to go on vacation days because as long as she had her laptop, she could travel as freely as she'd like. She would certainly save a gazillion dollars by staying home and not ordering a hundred dollars Ubers four days a week.

Sure she wouldn't be getting any social time with people her age, but it wasn't like she was making any friends at this dead-end job. Especially not with Addie, the brunette version of Regina George. If she would just treat Gracie with more respect, they would get along swimmingly. But Addie was more stubborn than all the women in Gracie's family combined. 

“Did you wear that t-shirt today on purpose?”

Speak of the devil. She was referring to Gracie's t-shirt that read ‘I would like to publicly announce that I have no idea what I'm doing’. 

Gracie snickered to herself when she saw it on Etsy, but today, she started to regret ordering it. It fit like a glove, but what she didn't take into account was that it would feed Addie more ammunition. “Wh-wh-what's that supposed to mean?” She mentally facepalmed herself. She was better off staying silent and ignoring Addie’s emotionally abusive comments.

“You gave the lady less change than you were supposed to. You're really that much of a dumbass that you don't even know how to count change?”

Yes. Gracie was still working on how to count the coins properly. She was one more person paying in cash away from writing a strongly-written letter to the inventor of coins asking why the dimes, that are worth twice as much as nickels, had to be smaller.

It was much easier when the younger customers paid with a debit card. All they had to do was insert it into the reader and Gracie didn't have to do anything but give them their receipt.

“Don't worry about her, Gracie. Coffee withdrawal makes her extra bitchy,” Maddie stepped in to make her feel better. 

Gracie knew exactly what to say, but she wanted to make sure that she didn't sound like the wires in her brain were short-circuiting. The corners of her lips brazenly lifted skyward as she spoke.

“You know, you're actually… really pretty. Too bad you're an… ugly bitch on the inside.”

Harsh words weren't in her vocabulary. She was a proud Christian who seldomly used curse words. Her mother would be disappointed in her if she were there, but no other word would be able to capture how rude Addie was acting. 

The nearby co-workers who happened to be eavesdropping on their conversation — including Maddie who was currently helping out a customer — erupted in jeers at Gracie's unexpected bravery.

Addie arched an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her arms crossed and her eyes shooting daggers at Gracie. “Look me in the eyes and say that again. Or are you not capable of doing such a thing?”

Gracie got nervous watching Addie's brown eyes zero in on hers, but she cleared her throat and forced herself to stand up to herself. 

"You're actually really pretty. Too bad... you're an ugly bitch on the inside."

'Way to go, Gracie', she congratulated herself in her head. She never stood up for herself before. Not even in the fifth grade when her classmates would bully her because, as she assumed, she learned things at a different pace.

Her smirk remained painted on her face as a new customer approached Gracie's register. It was the end of her shift and she crawled into the backseat of her Uber, only after making sure that she was taking the right car.

She was fully aware of the dangers of using drive share apps. Getting kidnapped or murdered. She'd seen all sorts of movies and Instagram videos about it. Gracie opened the health app on her phone. Ten thousand steps, it read, but her aching feet were screaming like they walked fifty thousand. 

"How was work, baby?"

Gracie sighed.

"W-w-well, I'm not drowning in tears so... that's a good sign." 

Gracie mumbled to herself.

"Nor did I feel the urge to pierce my own brain with a bullet."

"Is that Addie chick still giving you a hard time?" 

This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. All she wanted to do was sleep the day away and forget that this day never happened. Even if it was only for eight hours. All she gave for an answer was a simple nod of the head.

"I know it sucks now, but you'll have lots of co-workers that you don't get along with. That's a part of life."

'Thanks, mom. Real helpful. We should do this again sometime'. 

Relief washed over her when she finally got to crawl in bed after completing her strict nighttime routine. She searched through Netflix, Prime Video and Youtube for a movie before finally settling on one she'd seen a dozen times prior. It didn't matter to her. She needed unwind and relax her brain before she could sleep.

Once the clock on Gracie's lock screen changed to eleven o' clock, she put her phone on silent and started trying to fall asleep.

She was in a deep sleep until her eyes fluttered open to darkness flooding her room. She was nervous to check the time because if it was too early, she'd feel more anxious to go back to sleep so she laid there, waiting for sleep to consume her once again.

With her eyes half open, Gracie noticed that her phone was lit up against the wood of her bedside table. It looked like the middle of the night.

No one would be texting her. She was nervous when unlocking her phone. The thought of there being an emergency with her family made her wide awake. Gracie noticed that it was an unknown number. Normally, she'd immediately block them, but she figured she might as well tell them they got the wrong number before they accidentally text her again.

Unknown:
Sent 2:14am

Hey, it's me. Is this Kendall?

(xxx) xxx-xxxx:
Sent 2:16am

Nope. I'm sorry. I think you got the wrong number.