Chapter 3: Grace

                                    

                                          
A/N Sorry the story is building in short chapters, rather than the couple of longer ones I had originally planned. Please bare with me, we will eventually get to Charleston and the Academy, it just turns out there was more going on with these characters than I thought. 
                          


                          
Kasey's POV
                          
Running my fingers through my long damp dark brown hair I finger comb it into a messy high ponytail. Using my towel I wipe the condensation from the bathroom mirror and I begin applying my makeup. When I'm done, I take a good look at my reflection. The way I've done my makeup makes me look a couple of years older. Perfect! I smile to myself. My fitted black v-neck t-shirt with The Hog Diner logo printed on the back and black short shorts of my uniform show of my subtle curves and toned body from years of dancing and jujitsu. I take a deep breath and don on my Khloe Evans, 18 year old college student and part-time waitress persona. I smile, turn and walk out the bathroom door.

                          
Walking into the kitchen I grab a brown paper bag and two cans of coke out of the fridge, I really need all the caffeine I can ingest today. Collecting my keys off the table and my backpack from the floor beside the front door, I head out. I shove the food and drink into my backpack and pull my phone out of my bra to check the time again. 
                          
"Shit!" I curse out loud, giving the old lady two doors down from ours a fright as she's putting her cat out. It's already 5.18am. I have 32 minutes to get to work. I sling my backpack onto my back and sprint down three flights of steps jumping the last seven and carry on running, through the parking lot and down the street. Three blocks down I slow to a jog as I approach 'Joe's Garage' the mechanics that Seb works at part-time. I head down the alley that leads around to the yard at the back of the workshop. 
                          
"Hey Kasey. Cutting it a bit fine this morning aren't you?" a feminine voice calls out behind me.
                          
I turn and smile, recognizing the voice. It belongings to Grace, a fifteen year old homeless girl, who often hangs out around here and whom I befriended a few months ago. I don't know the details of her situation, just that she ran away from foster care and she still feels she made the right choice. I really wish there was more I could do to help her, but our apartment is already too cramped, and people around here know both us and her and would notice if we take her, in which might bring social services to our door. So far she's avoided being picked up by them again by moving around and making quick escapes on her skateboard. 
                          
"Oh, hi Grace. Yeah, we had a bit of drama with Nova last night, now I'm tired and running late. I'm glad you're okay,though. I was a worried when I didn't see you yesterday," I reply. Spotting her moving out of the shadows from behind the dumpster, where she had obviously been waiting for me. 
                          
"I managed to nab some leftover pie and muffins from the diner yesterday for you," I say as I pull my backpack off and grab the brown paper bag and a can of coke out for her.
                          
"Aww thanks Kase, you know you don't have to do that," she says.
                          
"I know, but a girl deserves a treat every so often," I reply, knowing that despite what she says she really can't afford to turn the food away. I can tell from how her t-shirt hangs a little looser on her frame than it did 5 months ago, that she isn't getting enough to eat. The way her once shiny golden locks of hair now hang dull and lifelessly from under her grey knitted beanie and the dark circles under her eyes show that living on the streets is taking it's toll on her. 
                          
"The pie is apple and blackberry, which I know is your favorite, but be careful when opening the coke. It probably got shaken up when I ran here," I warn handing over the bag and can.
                          
I remember being hungry as a kid when our dad would just disappear for weeks at a time before we had learnt to expect it and to fully fend for ourselves. That's why I hate that my work throws out perfectly good food, when I know there are so many hungry people living on the streets in our town, so I try and sneak out as much as I can get away with to give to the homeless in our neighborhood, which is how I met Grace.
                          
"So, you up for another few episodes of Game of Thrones at mine tonight?" I ask.
                          
Not long after meeting Grace, I found out she was also a huge Game of Thrones fan, but neither of us had watched the latest season. Me, because I had been too busy and her, because she hadn't had access to a TV or computer. So we had made a pact that we would catch up together by watching a few episodes at a time every second Saturday night. We order pizza and make a night of it, although she always leaves by 10pm to find somewhere to sleep. I also let her burrow our shower, which despite the underwhelming pressure, is at least warm and clean and has a door with a working lock.
                          
"Aren't you in a hurry to get to work?" Grace reminds me.
                          
"Oh yeah. Shoot I need to go," I say as I look at the time on my phone again. It's 5.40am.
                          
Finding the right key I unlock the padlock on mesh and barbed wire gates and open them enough for me to slip through, and then close it behind me.
                          
"Hey Grace can you watch the gate and open it when I come back through?" I ask, in an attempt to save some time. 
                          
"Yeah no problem," she replies.
                          
"Thanks."
                          
I hurry over to the shipping container that's placed in the far right corner of the lot and pull out my key to the padlock that is linking together the chain on the doors. The heavy steel doors creak as I pull them open. Although the sun is up it is still dark inside the container, so I turn on the flashlight setting on my phone and shine it inside. I smile widely as I spot my baby, a Suzuki GZ250 motorcycle, that I named Suzy, sitting in her spot halfway along the left wall between Seb's Harley Davidson XG 750 Street and Kaleb's Kawasaki Ninja 250R. Hurrying over to Suzy I set my backpack down and pull out my leather riding pants and jacket, which I pull on over my skimpy uniform. I put my now much lighter backpack on and carefully back Suzy out of the shipping container, avoiding the other motorcycles and car parts that fill it. Once outside I shut the doors and lock up the shipping container that Seb's boss kindly lets us store our motorcycles in. I push her to the gate as Grace opens it to let me through. Putting the stand down, I leave Suzy in the alley as I go back to lock the gates.
                          
"Thanks Grace. I'll see you tonight at six," I say, as I walk back to my motorcycle, hop on and start her up.