Aria's Choice

- An Unexpected Invite

It’s Friday. Most normal people would wake up and be happy because it is the end of the work week. Not for this girl. I groan as my alarm starts blaring beside me. It takes me three tries to shut the damn thing off. Finally, I yank the plug out of the wall and the noise stops. It was a late night at the diner after some high schoolers came in and decided to have a food fight. They were sneaky little bastards, being quiet, so they would not get caught. By the time I made my way over to them with their ticket, it had looked like a war zone. I don’t think any of them actually ate. I made them pay and then kicked them out. Lucky for me, Bobby offered to help me clean it up once his kitchen was in order. We were finally locking up by two in the morning.

Since it is Friday, the diner stays open until the wee hours of the morning, so the bar patrons can come in for their greasy food cravings. I offered to take Beth’s night shift so she could go out on a date with Erik, a guy she met on one of those dating sites. I think that’s what his name is; maybe it is Eli or Eddie. It’s something that starts with an E, anyway. She has been going on about needing to get laid for the last few weeks, so I’m crossing my fingers and hopefully Eli, or whoever, will help the poor girl out. Either way, I am working a double shift at the diner, and I have a few houses to clean beforehand.

It is barely even light outside, but I know that if I don’t get up now and shower, I won’t have time for my two cups of coffee. Believe me, nobody wants to deal with Aria Kramer without her second cup of Joe! Dragging myself out of bed, I’m like a zombie as I walk over to my dresser for clothes. I live alone, so I can technically walk around naked if I wanted to, but I always keep the thermostat at sixty degrees to help save on the bill. I have tried getting out of the shower and walking to my room without any clothes on. By the time I get to my room I can cut glass with my nipples, and I hate being cold like that.

I reach in to turn the shower on, but nothing comes out. “Great. Just fucking great!” I turn toward the sink and turn those nobs and still nothing. “Seriously? Can I not get a stinking break, already?” I shout up at the ceiling, not really knowing who I am yelling at. I know I paid my bill, which means the POS Manager isn’t doing his job. The profanity running through my head right now would make the devil himself blush. I guess it’s foolish to ask for just one thing to go my way. This right here is another example as to why I don’t depend on anyone else.

“Well, a whore’s bath it is then!” I say aloud as I grab the package of flushable wipes. Throwing my hair up into a messy bun, I pull a few wipes out and start washing my body down. Since I have a little extra time by not showering, I will use that extra time to hunt down the Manager and demand that he fixes the plumbing problem by tonight. Not that he will listen, but I can try anyway.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and go back to throw on some mascara and a little lip gloss. There is absolutely no sense in piling on makeup just to clean and serve food. I will sweat it off anyway. Looking at my reflection, I admit that one of the things I have going for me is that I have flawless skin. My skin coloring has just enough pigment to look like I tan, but it’s all natural. Then there are my eyes. I have never really seen an eye color like my own; they are a blue-violet color. The wavy, raven locks and long, dark lashes that I have, make my eyes stand out more. I’ve tried changing my hair color, but nothing else looks good on me. Although, I did try a purple in my hair when I was eighteen, and I really liked that one. Probably because it matched the violet in my eyes, but that phase didn’t last long.

Rushing out the door, not watching where I’m going, I slam into someone walking by my door. “Oh! I am so sorry!” I glance up, and for once, luck is on my side. The Manager is glaring at me, but I completely ignore the look. “Mr. Sanders! I was just coming to look for you.”

“Oh really?” He salaciously licks his lips while looks me up and down, “What can I do for you this morning, Miss Kramer?”

‘Ew…gross, dude’ I think to myself. I put a fake smile on and address the issue, “Mr. Sanders, I was not able to shower this morning due to not having water.” I know what he is about to say, so I quickly continue, “I am caught up on all my bills, so I know that this is an in-house problem. If you could please have the plumbing checked out, and hopefully working by tonight, I would be so grateful.” I give him just a little bit of a flirtatious smile to sweeten the pot.

A pink tinge creeps into his face and he smiles, “Of course, Miss Kramer. I will look into it right away. I am so sorry for any inconvenience.” He takes a slight step toward me, “If it makes you feel any better, you still look ravishing this morning.”

As his eyes start to roam down my body once again, I turn around and rush down the hall, “You are too kind, Mr. Sanders. Thank you!” I don’t slow down until I’m outside the apartment complex. I take a moment to shudder and be grossed out before I rush off to the bus stop. I make it there with no time to spare. Hurrying up the steps, I make my way to my usual seat. When I glance out the window, I see the same guy as I saw last time; the one I thought could have been Knox. My heart saddens a bit again for the loss of that friendship, but I soon put it out of my mind since there is nothing that I can do about it.

The rest of my morning goes pretty well, until I get to my last cleaning job at the Morrison’s. I use the code that they gave me to get in through the back door as usual. With my ear buds in and my music blaring, I walk over to the utility closet and pull out the cleaning cart with everything that I will need to get the job done. I feel like I should work at a hotel or something. It’s not like I can take the cart up the stairs, so it is kind of pointless if you ask me. None of my other houses have a cart; they have baskets with handles, and different compartments for each item, and it is so much easier to handle, but whatever.

I always start with the upstairs and work my way down because I find it a little easier. Alicia Keys’ song, Girl on Fire, starts playing in my ears, and I bob my head to it while I’m looking the supplies over to make sure nothing needs restocking. Once I’m sure that all is stocked, I make my way through the kitchen. Just as I turn the corner to the living room, the chorus starts and I can’t help but belt out the lyrics, “THIS GIRL IS ON FIRE…”

Never have I ever screamed as loud as I do now, while jumping back and knocking the whole cleaning cart over. The house is supposed to be empty, but apparently the owners must have forgotten that I come in on Fridays. I’m sure they weren’t expecting me to find Mrs. Morrison to be bent over the couch with Mr. Morrison thrusting his hips behind her.

“Oh, my God!” I cover my eyes with my hand, “I am so sorry! I didn’t hear…shit!” I don’t even know what to say. I pull my ear buds out right away. My heart is pounding a mile a minute and I am so freaking embarrassed.

“It’s quite alright,” I hear Mrs. Morrison pants, “We completely lost track of time, didn’t we honey?”

I pull my hand away and glance over at the couple, but they’re still naked, so I quickly look away. “Um, I will just go ahead and start upstairs then.” What else am I supposed to say?

“You got some lungs on you, Aria.” Mr. Morrison chuckles, “You scared the shit out of us!” He is still just standing there, as naked as the day he was born, and obviously not caring.

“I apo-apologize for scaring you.” I stutter as I make my way toward the staircase.

Mrs. Morrison giggles, “No worries, sweetie.” She clears her throat, “Uh, would you like to join us?”

Her offer blows me away. What the hell? Who were these people? How do I even answer that question? Think Aria, think! They are nice people, and I really need to keep this job, but there is no way I’m joining whatever it is they want me to join.

I smile without looking over at them, “Uh, thanks for asking, but I better get my work done. I have a busy day ahead of me.” I grab the items I need for upstairs and start up the steps as normal as I can.

“Oh, that’s okay dear. Maybe another time, then.” Mrs. Morrison responds. I can hear the disappointment in her voice, but I really do not care. Yuck. How do I get this whole incident out of my head? All I see is Mr. Morrison’s ass moving back and forth before he jumps at my voice. I do chuckle a bit remembering the part where he jumps back with his arm flailing out. Not gonna lie though, Mr. Morrison has a very nice backside.