Chapter 1:The Bus Stop Jerk
The Bus Stop Jerk
The savoring, teasing, and tantalizing smell of the grilled steak—making her mouth water in anticipation.
The steak was finally about to enter her mouth as she opened her mouth wide to bite; she felt her throat gurgled with water as her eyes widened in shock.
She coughed out, clucking her throat as her chest beat wildly, and water fell from her mouth. She turned her head to the side to see her devil younger brother holding a jug while laughing.
She glared at him, wiping her mouth harshly. “Evan!” she growled, her body buzzing with disappointment at not having been able to take a bite of the steak she was dreaming about.
“Mom—” then the shrill clang of pots and pans from the other room startled Jhemma, her mother’s loud voice following like a blaring alarm clock.
“Jhemma! Are you planning to sleep through your entire life? Get up! Your interview is today!”
“That’s it,” her brother grinned, dropping the jug on her nightstand. “Mom said I should wake your lazy ass up!” She grabbed the pillow beside her and threw it at him, but the little devil was already out the door, sticking his tongue out mockingly.
Groaning and grumbling, Jhemma buried her face deeper into her second pillow, trying to get to the dream; maybe she’d be able to taste the five-star steak in her dream. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the fabric.
She tossed on her wet bed but couldn’t feel the sleep anymore, and she groaned. Today had started rough for her already.
She wanted to scream in frustration as her mother’s voice came in.
“You’ll have five more minutes to explain to your future boss why you are late!” her mother shot back.
And that jolted Jhemma upright. She had forgotten about her interview. God! She rubbed her face to feel productive; she binge-watched one season of anime.
“Ugh, fine, I’m up!” she grumbled. She glanced at the clock. It was already 7:15 AM. Her body hadn’t processed today’s activities; she was tired.
She scrambled to get ready, her movements rushed yet clumsy. It’d be a great impression to arrive at the venue some minutes before the interview. Thanks to her mom waking her up before 8:00 am.
By the time she was dressed in her one and only best thrifted blazer, her nerves were all over the place. She took a look at the mirror, trying to tame her hair. Her wavy hair was always a problem for her. She brushed through the bush—she called hair—and put it in a rough, messy ponytail as a strand of unpacked hair fell on her side.
She applied light makeup to cover her little under-eye bag as she checked herself in the mirror one more time. Perfect! She grinned. Now she was ready for anything life threw at her.
Jhemma took a slice of the sandwich hurriedly, pecked her mum’s cheek, then swatted her brother’s head as a payback for how he woke her up earlier.
Grabbing her portfolio, she darted out of the house, still muttering about the steak.
“Fighting!” Her mom chanted, and Jemma grumbled. Her words were muffled because she had put the whole sandwich in her mouth.
“This interview better be worth it,” Jhemma muttered as she adjusted the strap of her bag. Her sleep was cut abruptly, and secondly, she was unable to eat her breakfast to her satisfaction. Now she had to go to the rowdy bus stop on Monday morning to hurry for the bus.
She wanted to curse her life but decided that her life didn’t need more curse than it was now as she walked briskly to the bus stop.
The morning sun was already blazing—the sun rose early in her community and was always scorching, which made her hate going out, but a man has to have a job that pays her unrealistic bills.
The streets were already buzzing with people activity, and the bus stop was no exception, packed with people vying for space. Jhemma sighed, clutching her portfolio tighter.
“Great. Just great,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t sign up for this! She wove her way to the front, hoping to grab a spot on the bus.
As the bus pulled up, brakes screeching, the crowd surged forward like a zombie wave. Jhemma held her ground, determined to get on. She wouldn’t slack off; she pushed people away from her ways as she was about to grab her chance, a man in a sharp suit suddenly brushed past her, knocking her off balance.
“Hey!” she yelled as her bag slipped off her shoulder, its contents spilling onto the ground.
“Sorry,” the man muttered over his shoulder, but he didn’t stop and climbed onto the bus as if she weren’t standing there, flustered and furious.
“Sorry? That’s it?” Jhemma screamed at him, bending down to gather her scattered files.
“What kind of stupid apology is that! He can’t even wait and pack my paper! So inhumane! Stupid and pompous being! A stupid jerk—”
The bus doors closed with a taunting hiss for her failure of grabbing a space—cutting off her words. Jhemma glared at the departing vehicle with anger, catching a glimpse of the man’s perfectly styled hair and broad shoulders.
“Ugh! Some people!” she snapped, stomping her feet on the ground. “I didn’t sign up for this shit this morning!” She gritted her teeth, flipping the bus her middle finger before turning back to her mess.
It took a good five minutes to collect everything, and by the time Jhemma had straightened up, waiting for another bus to pull out.
After 20 minutes of waiting, a bus finally arrived. This time, she held her bag tightly closer to her chest so that the contents wouldn’t fall again if anyone were to collide with her and stood alert so that she wouldn’t be pushed off again.
After fighting for a chance, she boarded with a huff, wiping the sweat from her face as she determined not to let the morning’s fiasco ruin her day.
Jhemma breathed in and out, trying to calm herself. “I’ll ace this interview,” she muttered to herself. “And I’ll forget that people like that jerk ever existed.”
But fate had other plans. Yes. Because telling her the reason why, as she stepped to the company’s entrance, it was him she saw.
The bus stop jerk. jerk,
The frustration and anger of the morning came rushing in her as she marched toward him.
“You!” she called out.
