Ruby Rodriguez is a party loving art student with a tendency to stray the wrong side of the law, when she strays into the wrong side of a bank robbery, she finds that not all men in authority are pigs, and not all people are stupid.
I was rudely woken by my obnoxious alarm and its shrill beeping that caused a fierce pounding in my head. I groaned and rolled over feeling a wave of nausea hit me. College parties were hell. I didn’t want to get up but my phone was on the other side of the room and I had to get up to turn off the alarm. What had I even set it for again? I’d have to check.
I sat up and moaned feeling the pain in my head worsen. I felt my stomach roll and I managed to dive for an empty shoe box on the floor as I emptied the contents of my stomach. After my last heave I looked down an inspected it. Interesting, I didn’t remember eating a corndog.
The alarm continued and my headache was not getting better so I stood up, tripping over my tangled sheets and falling into my over flowing laundry basket.
“Fuuucccckkk!” I cursed, having stubbed my pinky toe. “Mother fucker!” I angrily swiped at my cell phone.
7.30am Bank appointment 9.00am student loan – IMPORTANT CAN NOT MISS. The screen read. I turned the alarm off and moaned again, pressing my hands against my eyes trying to force the pain of my head. I seriously needed a drink. I was not in the mood for this. I needed this loan so bad.
Taking my hands from my eyes I spotted black make up smeared on my hands. Drunk me had not remembered to remove my make-up. I cursed again. Just my luck.
I stumbled out of my room tripping over empty bottles, dirty clothes, clean clothes, skate boards, guitar cases, cds and – oh shit. A pregnancy test. Negative. ‘Well at least I’m not pregnant’. I clambered over a box full of self-help books sitting in the middle of my hall way and into my bathroom, taking a drink of water from the faucet before brushing my teeth. I looked at my face in the mirror and cursed. I looked like shit.
My lightly olive toned skin was smeared with black make up from the party the night before, my long wavy black hair was in knots and I had deep sunken bags under my green eyes from my hour and half sleep that night – or morning rather.
I washed my make up off and tied my hair up in a pony-tail to try and make myself look more presentable for my application for the loan. I looked at myself, did it work? Marginally. I moaned again and took some Paracetemol from my drug cabinet and knocked them back before returning to my room.
I checked my phone again 8.05am. Shit! I had to rush or I was going to be late. I picked up the first clothes I found on the floor giving them a quick sniff to make sure they weren’t too dirty. Black tights, they were ripped in several places but hey – I’d pretend I wanted them like that. Denim skirt, did it smell like beer? I sniffed again, yes but if I put on enough perfume they probably wouldn’t notice. Grey tank top, it brought out my eyes and – hey! This one was actually clean. I put on my black leather jacket and grabbed a scarf, slipped on my beat up old cowboy boots and spritzed myself with perfume – wait, shit. Was that my ex’s cologne? I didn’t have time to give a fuck.
I ran to my door, tripping over a litter box. Since when did I have a cat? I managed to snatch my keys off my side table and my iPod before slipping out the door. I put my headphones on and began listening to some music – ugh. This was my old flat mate’s playlist. When had they moved out again? I didn’t remember, they just left. Apparently I was too messy or something, whatever. Their problem, not mine.
I pressed the button for the elevator to get out of my apartment block but it was taking too long, instead I ran down the stairs. I felt my chest jiggling as I ran – oh shit! I forgot to put on a bra. Do you think they’d notice? Would it stop them from giving me the loan? I sure as hell hoped not. I thought maybe I should go back and put on a bra – just to seem presentable but then I though, fuck it. I don’t really care.
I barely made it on time to get my train and it was packed. All I could think was – I really hate people. Someone brushed against me and I felt myself grimace in disgust. Ew, don’t touch me you creep. There was condensation on the train windows from all these stupid people breathing my air. I felt myself shudder as my head pounded with my hang over. God, I hated people. All I knew was, if I had left my bed with a hangover this bad for an interview to see if I was to be granted a student loan, I better fucking get this stupid loan.