ALLISON'S POV

　　I've never been the type to make lemonades out of the rotten lemons life threw at me. I'm more of the type that chills and awaits the next lemon.

　　I won't particularly say I run away from my problems. I avoid them instead, just as I'm doing in Mama Alicia's breakfast Cafe.

　　"Hit me another one."

　　Mama Alicia throws me a comical look and I give her my signature tight-lipped smile. She shakes her head slowly before pouring me my favorite smoothie.

　　"Go slow on the sugar there, honey." She pats my hand that's resting on the counter. I nod at her in acknowledgement.

　　I don't even bother to sip it through the straw, I just pull off the cover and down the smoothie in one gulp. I let out a sigh of relief as I throw the cup into the recycle bin.

　　"Hit me another one!"

　　I smile innocently at a partially glaring Mama Alicia. I try my best to keep my face innocent and less unapproachable.

　　"You're not getting another one!" A certain annoying voice yells from the Cafe's kitchen.

　　A mop of blonde hair pops out of the kitchen with bright blue eyes that shoots me a glare instantly. I propped my arm and place my chin on my it. I grin teasingly.

　　"What do you mean I'm not getting another one? I'm a certified customer." I shrug and take my fifteenth cup of banana split milkshake and down it again.

　　I fling the cup in Boyd's direction and he yelps in surprise.

　　"Dear, I'm heading to the basement to get some refined dough. I might take long, God knows how deadly those stairs are." Mama Smiles at me before patting Boyd on the shoulder and making her way to the basement.

　　Boyd flies over to the front of the counter where he raises a brow at me. "Who puked in your cereal that got you all worked up?"

　　I hold my answer as a customer walks up and places an order. The female customer winks and leans incredibly closer to the counter to get in close contact with Boyd.

　　There is no doubt that Boyd is attractive. He's a 6'1" college boy who works part-time in his grandmother's Breakfast Cafe. His bright baby blue eyes always seem to command the attention of every member of the female species. I've seen it happen before; young and old flirting with him. It was nauseating.

　　His blonde locks compliments his slightly tan skin and his smile always seem to light up the whole room. He flashes one of those flirty smiles at the short lady who blushes madly.

　　I cough loudly and Boyd glances at me before handing the lady her order.

　　"What'd you do that for?! She was just about to give me her contact, Damn you Allison. Damn you." Boyd sighs dramatically before plopping on the bar stool.

　　"So what's up? Aren't you supposed to be fixing cars or something?"

　　I sigh and chew on a straw before spitting it out on the counter, "Myers got tired of me and sent me out." I shrug nonchalantly.

　　I couldn't care less.

　　You'd think me getting fired was going to make me sad. Why should I be sad, when I now have a few extra hours of binging on Netflix shows and eating fries and popcorn all through the day. Sweet Freedom.

　　"Allison," Boyd drawls, "Did you spray-paint a middle finger on another customer's car again?"

　　"Maybe..." I grin slyly.

　　I may or may not have spray-painted a middle finger on a customer's Audi. But in my defense, the owner of the car is a total pervert and an arrogant jerk.

　　"Damn girl, you're on a roll!" He high-fives me before turning to wiping the counter.

　　I groan and hop off the stool, "I'm gonna go. My sweet bed is calling me." Boyd chuckles and throws me a "peace" sign before I walk out.

　　The summer breeze and the stench of industrial smoke invades my senses. I mentally thank my instincts for reminding me to carry a hoodie. The walk to my boulevard is short and uneventful, given that "Mama Alicia's Breakfast Cafe" is only a few blocks away from my apartment.

　　I get there sooner or later, only passing high-fives to a few acquaintances I've made along the course of the years.

　　When I see the familiar maroon building, I let out a sigh. My apartment was one of a kind. A small two-bedroom flat with a few valuables and enough junk food to last a year.

　　My eyes drifts to the building next to it. It was similar to mine but a lot bigger in size. It had a wooden porch and a handful of weed littered around the front area. It's been empty for close to two years and when I see a light on inside, I'm surprised.

　　I kiss my teeth before opening my apartment and walking in.

　　I pull off my boots and plop on my bed immediately. I block out negative thoughts and close my eyes.

　　Why do I have to think about tomorrow when today is still here?