This is part of the unedited first chapter of a book I started to write in late summer/early fall this year, during a few of my lunch breaks at work. I’m posting it here because I’ve discarded the story; I realized that the plot driver just isn’t going to work, so I’m trashing THE WHOLE THING.

The names Allie and Candy were temporary, until I found better ones. Allie was going to be the main character; I borrowed her name from one of the publishers at Loose Id. Candy was going to be the ditzy, model roommate; the name simply seemed frivolous enough. I won’t go into the back story or into what happens next … because it’s rather pointless with my dumping the whole story. But I thought I’d share, so you’d all know that I HAVE been writing. Just not here.

A word of warning: it’s a rough draft. And of course, the copyright is MINE!

Chapter One

Allie Hayes’ roommate Candy never asked for favors, except when it came to food, money, errands, clothes, men, and excuses for not going to work. And even when Candy did ask Allie for a favor, it was never as often as four times in one day. Three was the most that Allie had ever counted, and even then that only happened just three times a week.

So when Candy asked Allie for four favors in one breath, all having to do with things that needed to be done before the long-awaited infamous trip to the Caribbean islands, Allie could have bet her entire savings that four favors in one day would be the new record for a long, long while. Could have, that is, but probably in her right mind never would.

She watched Candy, after the last favor was granted, make grand, dramatic gestures in front of her closet, those long model-thin arms waving and reaching in, pulling out some of Allie’s favorite outfits and tossing them haphazardly on Allie’s bed. She watched Candy’s hair float and shine like spun gold, soft as silk and a dozen times more pampered than anything else, living or dead, within ten miles. And she watched those collagen lips move, forming words that had no rhyme or reason and smiles that had no soul or wisdom. No, Candy was definitely not someone you put your money on.

“You never wear them anyway,” Candy was saying, with all the grand gesturing of a diva, “and they’re absolutely perfect for my trip.”

Allie didn’t bother to correct her. She had worn each outfit at least twice that month, and one of the outfits was a turtleneck sweater dress—no doubt perfect for a walk on a Caribbean beach sometime during the ice age.

“And I promise you’ll get them back as good as new. You know how well I take care of your clothes.”

Allie knew all too well how badly Candy abused her clothes. She often got them back torn or stained with God knows what.

“I’ll even get them dry cleaned when I get back, I promise. My treat.”

No surprise there. Candy always promised to get the clothes she borrowed dry cleaned. Never mind that she never actually got it done.

So when the four favors of the day became five, Allie decided that she had already reached her limit and that Candy was just going to have to live with disappointment. Lucky for Allie that she could read her roommate like a book because the fith favor started like the others, with a studied coyness and embarrassment, a gentle bite to one side of the lower lip, eyebrows lifting in the middle, above pleading eyes. So, before Candy could say anything, Allie pursed her lips and shook her head.

“No.”

“What do you mean?” Candy pouted and looked affronted. “I haven’t said anything yet.”

Allie rolled her eyes. “‘Yet’ is the key word, and you don’t need to say a thing. The answer is no.” Mouth open, hand to sternum, Candy gave her signature soap-opera-scandalized look. Allie didn’t fall for it and crossed her arms. “I said no.”

Candy made a moue as she pulled out a scarf. “Don’t you even want to hear what I have to say?”

Allie scoffed. “Hardly. I’m all out of favors for today, and you usually save your biggest favors for last.”

Blink, blink. “But Allie, please, just hear me out.”

Allie searched the ceiling for patience and shook her head. “I already lent you money for your trip, and I did your laundry. I’ve lied to whoever that was on the phone for you half an hour ago, and now I’m lending you my best clothes. Isn’t that enough for today, Candy? I mean, are you trying to annoy me—or worse, get yourself strangled?”

Candy’s voice rose with a hint of a whine. “I’m not trying to annoy you.”

Allie slammed the closet door shut, barely missing her startled roommate’s well-manicured hands. “So the other option is okay, then?” She bit her tongue, immediately regretting her abruptness, but she hated when Candy whined, and it sounded as if a royal whine was about to launch. She gathered the clothes from the bed and dumped them unceremoniously into Candy’s arms, forcefully steering the poor girl backwards out the door as she did so. She had scant, if any, patience for Candy’s whining and wanted to nip it in the bud if she could. “Look. No more favors today, okay? Unless you want to give me my money and my clothes back, bring the favor tally back down to two, and spare me the whining that I know you’re just dying to do. Maybe then—then I’d consider it.”

For a moment Candy actually looked thoughtful, but Allie shut the door in her roommate’s doe face with a resounding click and dismissed the expression as pure fancy on her part. Candy was never thoughtful and always followed through on a whine once it started. Allie knew that fact all too well and long ago accepted it as one of those unchanging things, like the rock of Gibralter. It was one of the reasons she granted so many of those asked favors in the first place, to avoid dealing with the childish behavior at all.

So when Candy’s voice traveled through the door, smooth, even-toned, and actually quite lucid and reasonable, it took Allie a while to make sense of the words.

“Do you mean that, Allie? If I give you your money and your clothes back, will you do me the other favor?”

Gibralter was surely crumbling somewhere. Allie waited for the sound of rocks falling. “Did you just say what I think you said, Candy? Or have I gone completely out of my mind?”

“I’m serious, Allie. Please? If I don’t borrow your money or your clothes for this trip, will you do me the favor?” Odd. It really did sound like Gibralter crumbling.

Allie swung the door open in disbelief and peered at Candy. “Say that again. I need to see your lips move.”

Candy’s face, often so beautiful and so blank, actually looked earnest for once. “You heard me, Allie. Please? Do me this favor, and I’ll ask someone else to help me with the other stuff.”

Allie frowned and bit her lip. It couldn’t possibly be a small favor, but it also couldn’t hurt to listen to the girl. She opened the door wider. “Okay,” she said, “I’m listening.”

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