All It Seems

Part 44: mixed messages

I had this one sitting in my drafts and felt the urge to post. One day I will figure out where this story is going (there is a plan I just don't know if I agree with it anymore).

Enjoy!

Isaac woke me in the morning by screeching the curtains open and forcing the unusually sunny morning through the windows.

"That was loud," I groaned, my voice thick with sleep as I rolled over and squished a pillow on top of my head.

"You're late for work," Isaac responded and I sat bolt upright, the pillow falling from my face. The sudden movement made my brain do backflips in my head and I fought against falling backwards.

"What do you mean!?" I reached over and grabbed my phone. There was no way I could be late. With extreme misfortune and frustration, was right; I was running 20 minutes late for work. "Why didn't you wake me!?" I demanded as I threw the covers off and ran over to the dresser. I pulled out an old knit jumper and a pair of jeans and got dressed as quickly as I could.

"I thought your alarm would go off at some point," he shrugged from the bathroom, his eyes anything other than apologetic.

"Seriously, Isaac. What the hell." I snarled. Rage was simmering away in my stomach as I pulled a random pair of shoes from the cupboard.

"Hey, it's not my responsibility to make sure you get up on time," he said with a chuckle and I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaw ached.

"I'm so fucking over this," I whispered as I tied my laces.

"What was that?" His eyebrows were raised as though testing to see if I would say it again.

"I'm so fucking over you." I said loudly and slammed the door behind me.

I snatched my bag and flew out the front door, running down the stairs to my car. I sped through the traffic to Kingston's house, my heart racing as each minute crept closer and closer to when I was supposed to be there. At a stop light, I pulled my mirror down and looked at my face.

"Oh my God!" I had mascara smudge under my eyes and, upon closer look, a food stain on my knit. "What a mess!" I looked around my car for a drink bottle to try and remove the stain quickly and only found a dribble left in one of Lucy's old soccer bottles. One hand on the wheel, the other fretting between my top and my eyes, I struggled to keep my nerves in check as I drove to Kingston's.

I arrived, 10 minutes late, and slammed my car door shut as I ran up to the house. The gate closed behind me with a clang just as my left foot slipped on a wet paver and one knee hit the ground with a thud. Mud stained my knee which now ached like a cold finger whacking something metal.

Too stressed to care, I swung the door open and hobbled inside. To my dismay, I was met by Georgia and Kingston in the kitchen.

My breath hitched in my throat as I took in the sight before me; Georgia had one hand on Kingston's chest, her own body in close proximity to his. Kingston sipped from his coffee mug as Georgia appeared to be saying something softly in his ear.

"Uhh... sorry I'm late," I said awkwardly and tried to take my eyes away from the scene in front of me. Kingston stepped away from Georgia's grasp looking startled. His lips parted slightly.

"Alex. Hi," chagrin filled his voice and his eyes flitted from a scowling Georgia to me. Georgia looked me up and down, obviously taking in my muddy knee, unkempt face and hair and food stains.

"I'll just go check on Lucy," I said, jogging up the stairs.

"You'd at least think the maid would dress appropriately," Georgia's condescending voice rang from downstairs and I felt my cheeks flood with blood and humiliation consumed my existence.