Greetings Earthlings,
It's been a long time. My laptop broke amidst the apocalypse and all of my writing was lost. ALL of it. I gave up on writing for a long while, except for this little story I kept coming back to that was just going to be for myself. But I fell in love with these characters over the months I spent with them, and I hope a few of you do too. I don't want them to disappear.
There are 9 chapters written and I will be submitting each new chapter the day the last one gets published. So enjoy the misadventures of Oakley and Jett.
Oakley sipped her poorly mixed beverage. She had been told it was cranberry juice and vodka, but it tasted like sugary rubbing alcohol.
Her overwhelming irritation was making it exceedingly difficult not to crush the distressed styrofoam cup in her hand.
The workplace was in complete disarray. What were once neat, organized desks were now a cluttered mess of papers and office supplies. It wasn't the apocalypse, it was Christmas, yet everyone acted like they wouldn't have to clean it all tomorrow.
Everyone was in high spirits, drinking and laughing loudly in their ugly sweaters. A plastic Christmas tree leaned crooked against the wall, with bright multicolored lights and badly crafted ornaments hung randomly around the sparse branches. Badly cut paper stars had been hung at random from the beige ceiling tiles.
Oakley fumed. Her face flushed, but was no more red than any of the other drunken slobs around her.
She grumbled to herself, making every effort not to punch the speaker blasting holiday music, and rip the puff balls off her scratchy sweater she had been forcefully requested to wear.
Oakley was three drinks deep already, and she was far from finished. Her eyes periodically flashed to the clock. She counted the minutes, waiting for the moment she could sprint home.
It wasn't that she disliked the people she worked with. They certainly were friendly, a behavior that's very common in small towns like this. You have to be nice, because you're stuck with the same people every day. Everyone is in everyone's business all the time.
Most of the people who grew up in Veniceville quickly leave after school in hopes of never returning. Who could blame them?
They were so far in the country, that there were absolutely no attributes of Venice. The brain cell deficient people who settled this land probably thought smooshing an Italian word with "ville" would make it sound elegant and lavish. What a disappointment to tourists.
The town's population dwindled down year after year. Folks who drove through would say it felt like being stuck decades in the past. There weren't many redeeming factors to Veniceville, but it wasn't
all
bad.
Oakley was born and raised there, though she didn't hate it as much as most of her classmates and friends did. She did leave to go to college, where she got a degree in communications, but ended up right back here.
She loved this town. She loved the trees, the wildlife, how you could walk into the woods and get lost forever, instead of ending up in a subdivision. She even loved the incredibly dense people inhabiting the town. She loved that she could walk down any street and someone would care to smile, wave and tell her to have a good day. With the exception of one person, of course.
With eyes burning with hatred she took another sip of her drink, looking over to Jett and his arrogant ass planted right on her desk.
He was sitting on top of what had been meticulously organized paperwork, laughing with two other coworkers. His presence forced her to sit a few desks over. This particular one belonged to a much larger man who's back side had abused and completely flattened the padding. And she didn't want to admit it to herself, but there was definitely a bad smell. But Oakley would pretty much do anything to avoid Jett.
Oakley moved back to Veniceville a few years ago right after graduating college. She found a great apartment, and a cozy office job at the local PCN Cardboard Co. branch.
It had been a wonderful place to work, until a few weeks ago. Nothing exciting ever happened, but she was comfortable and happy. Routine was not always a bad thing. But now that Jett moved back, her little bubble of safety had popped.
Oakley had known him her whole life. They lived on the same block and were the same age. The town only had one school, and it consisted of only a few hundred students, which meant she was forced to be in his vicinity constantly.
When they were children they would play in the woods, build forts and make fake names for their fantasy kingdoms. They would sneak out and stay up all night, but half the time they would fall asleep and get grounded when their parents found them sound asleep in the backyard.
And then one day his attitude turned sour. It was a very abrupt change, as if it happened overnight. One day he just told her to 'go away.'
After that, the only time he acknowledged her was at school. Either to pull her hair childishly, or call her names in front of his newly acquired friends.
He terrorized her all through elementary school, and high school was even worse. He tripped her in the hallway, put gum in her hair, and anything else his adolescent brain could concoct.
As his vocabulary rapidly expanded, his insults became more creative. He taunted her about her figure, her hair, her attitude. It was a miracle his nose had still remained unbroken every time she hit him for calling her 'flat' or 'too skinny,' whether she was or not. The one time she went tanning, Jett told her she looked even paler, and she never bothered doing that again.
The day Jett left for college was a day Oakley celebrated. The very last time she saw him was at a graduation party. He bumped into her, purposefully spilling his entire drink down her back.
Oakley had had alcohol before, but this was the first time she had ever been drunk enough to stumble, or at least enough to be brutally honest. She turned around and with a wide smile said "I never have to see you again!"
The way she said that with such a genuine expression, completely unphased by her soaked shirt made his smile drop. Jett looked shocked and offended, but said nothing, and quickly pushed past her.
This victory gave her a high that lasted weeks. He was gone for good. He always talked about how he would leave for the city and never come back. What a dream come true for both of them.
Oakley had seen pictures of Jett when her friends gossiped, a hobby they passionately partook In day and night. She never commented and never cared. If they asked about him she shrugged. She already had her victory, better not to jinx it.
She was surprised to hear he even graduated college, because from what she was hearing all he did was get into trouble.
He joined some punk band, started doing ridiculous things with his black hair, and gained an excess amount of horrifically ironic tattoos.
Oakley had wished upon a star, and it had come true. He was never going to come back. Why would he want to? Especially with his new crunchy look that she did not appreciate. If he came back looking like that there's no way people wouldn't talk.
But he did come back, and no one batted an eye at his appearance. In fact everyone seemed elated. Some of the elderly women that regularly loitered at the local diner we're fascinated and always asked to see his tattoos.
