A Promise

Cassie

I woke up like I did every morning. With my phone screaming its alarm and the sounds of the highway outside my apartment grating against my ears. Groaning, I rolled out from under the covers and slipped my freezing feet into my slippers. The splintering wood of the cheap apartment I lived in made it impossible to walk anywhere barefoot. Shuffling into the bathroom, I fell into my morning routine, letting the cold water from the faucet shock me awake as I washed my face. I couldn't help but stare into the water stained mirror for a moment as I dried my hands off, looking over myself in the tank top and underwear I had gone to bed in. I really needed to start eating more. My pelvis jutted out over the waistband of my panties in a sharp edge. My collarbones framing the neckline of the tank top. Everything about me was too skinny, too sharp. My small chest, bony wrists, high cheek bones. Traits that some girls would kill for, but all I felt was that twinge of insecurity, I looked more like a lanky high school kid than a woman. Today I was going to remember to eat at work. I'd set an alarm or something. I'd find the time for a meager lunch between the tables I waited on. I nodded to myself at the thought.

Digging through my dresser, I found a pair of threadbare leggings and one of the many work t shirts I'd collected over the years of working there. The ugly green shade of the shirt unfortunately had not faded with the hundred of washes it had been through, still bright and gaudy behind the cracked logo for the diner, but it'll do. Finding a pair of mismatched fuzzy socks and my fraying vans, I grabbed my coat and purse and headed out.

I made sure the close my apartment door quietly, locking it with the grimy key the landlord had given me. Not that I had anything of worth that someone would steal, but my neighbor across the hall tended to get grumpy if he woke up before noon, and the slam of my door was enough for him to come stomping out to and yell at me. I shivered as I remembered that morning from a few months ago. The smell of Jameson and his unbrushed teeth choking me as he shouted about a hangover that he seemed to have every day. Shaking my head, I pushed the memory from my mind and made my way down to the bus stop.

The bitter January air greeted me as I trudged through the snow. Stinging against my skin and bringing tears to my eyes as I pulled my hood up. It only took a few minutes for the bus to arrive, but my hands were already trembling as it took a few tries for my card to work. Everything smelled like disinfectant and cigarettes as I slumped into a seat, ignoring the old woman staring at me from across the aisle. I absentmindedly picked at the beauty mark on my cheek, one of many scattered across my face. Something I had been bullied for in high school. Well, one of the things I was bullied for.

Movement drew my eyes away from the frosted window and I watched as a man sat down a few rows ahead of me. He had a nice smile as he texted away on his phone. His college t shirt framing his chest nicely under his coat. Fluffy hair effortlessly styled by the wind. Probably about my age. I smiled to myself, imagining starting up a conversation, but I looked away as he glanced up. No, he's probably just home for the holidays, he'll be going back to college soon. Besides, he wouldn't even consider someone like me. I forced myself to zone out for the next couple of miles, my eyes trained out the window until they finally called my stop.

Shoving my coat into my locker at work, I crushed it down against the back wall before pushing my purse in too.

"Morning Cassie." A tired voice called behind me.

"Morning." I responded without even needing to look up as I tied my apron on around my waist. Travis ducked into his office and closed the door, undoubtedly fighting a 'cold' again as he secluded himself from his employees and patrons. But it's not like it mattered. He didn't do much other than sign the checks and make the schedules, so he could stay in there all day. Only coming out for his smoke break every few hours. Someone yelled front the front room. Their voice echoing through the old building as they announced the doors opening for the breakfast rush, and with my phone safely tucked into my locker, I plastered on the smile I had practiced for so long in the mirror and got to work.