Disclaimer- I do not own anything even remotely related to Ten Inch Hero

Warning- Rated T for making out, language, and crude humor

Chapter 1

Alice's POV

I drove around like a mad woman, looking for some place to eat my feels away, stopping in front of a restaurant called Beach City Grill. I slid out of the car and somehow managed to make it through the door in the stupid heels I was wearing, before I promptly tripped and fell flat on my face. Well, that's certainly adding insult to injury…or would that be injury to insult?

"You okay?" someone asked.

"Yeah, yeah fine."

"You gonna stay there all day blocking the door?"

"It's pretty comfortable down here actually, so yeah, maybe I will."

"Here, I'll help you up."

I felt a pair of strong hands under my arms and suddenly my feet were back on the ground.

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

I turned to see who had helped me up. An older guy, probably in his fifties with brown hair and a rat-tail was smiling at me.

"Can we get you something to eat? I'm Trucker by the way."

"Yeah, what's the biggest size sub I can order?" I asked.

"Twelve inches."

"Great."

I walked over to the counter to talk to the girl taking orders.

"Hi. I'd like a twelve inch veggie sub, a big ass order of curly fries, and a coke please."

"Yeah sure. Not to be nosy, but that's a big order. You okay?" she asked.

"Not really. Bad day."

"I can see how a day in those shoes could suck."

I laughed and slid her a twenty. Before I could explain what happened the door swung open. My eyes widened.

A guy, probably 6'1, with bright green eyes stood there. His hair was spiked up in a red Mohawk and he had piercings in his ears, nose, and one below his bottom lip. His t-shirt read, "Tip me or Die".

"Great timing Priestly, twelve inch veggie sub with curly fries."

"I just got here!"

"It's your job," Jen, the girl behind the counter, said.

He grumbled, but made his way behind the counter and ties his apron.

"This better be for a hot chick."

"Depends on your definition of hot I suppose," I said, amused.

He turned to face me and gave me a quick up down.

"Fine, I'll make it."

"So, tell us why your day sucked," Jen urged.

"Well, my sister decided it's been too long since I went on a date, so she set me up with some guy from her office."

"Bad date?" Priestly called over his shoulder.

"He didn't show up."

"Oo, that's rough."

"Yeah. I let my sister pick out my clothes and everything.

Letting my sister choose my outfit meant letting her put me in a dark purple short sleeve tube dress and a pair of black suede pumps. My hair, a deep chestnut color, was curled and pulled up in a high ponytail. She'd even talked me into contacts, which I usually only wear when I'm not feeling lazy as fuck. But apparently I shouldn't "hide those sparkly blues" behind my glasses.

"Probably would've been a shitty date anyway," I admitted.

"What makes you say that?" Trucker asked.

"My sister and I have vastly different taste in guys. She likes the average Joe type. You know, guys who read the paper with their coffee every morning and do the dishes right after dinner and, ugh, go to bed at a reasonable hour."

"That's like every girls dream. You into freaky guys or something?" Priestly asked, handing me my order.

"No, more like guys who quirky and original, oo, and who have a great sense of humor. But apparently those don't exist," I sighed, making my way over to a table near the window.

"Hey Trucker, I'll be right back. Don't let anyone steal my sub," I jokes, heading out to my car.

Time to ditch the heels and the dress. I climbed into my backseat and dug through my shoulder bag, pulling out a change of clothes. When I got back into the restaurant everyone went quiet.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing, you just look different," Jen said with a smile.

I was wearing a pair of black leggings with dark grey shorts over them. My t-shirt was red with GEEK written across it in white and on my feel were a pair of black ankle boots with a chunky heel. I'd taken my hair out so that loose curls flowed down passed my shoulders.

"Yeah well, this is me when I don't let my sister play dress up," I said, finally sitting down to eat my sub.

But of course my cell chose that moment to ring. Fuck everything. I sighed, putting a fake smile on as I answered the phone.

"Mr. Henrickson, how may I help you? Uh-huh. Tomorrow's my day off sir. Well, if you really need to be sure. Yes sir I'll have your coffee ready. Okay. You too. Goodbye sir."

I slammed my phone down and stuffed a handful of curly fries in my mouth.

"Your boss?" Trucker asked.

"You mean the guy who spends more times staring at my boobs than working? Yeah, I'm his secretary and he's making me work on my day off."

"Why don't you quit?"

"I'm planning to as soon as I get another job lined up," I explained, taking a swig of coke.

"You wanna work here?"

"…Really?"

"Yeah, we've been meaning to hire someone new for a while now. Jobs yours if you want it," Trucker offered.

"You're not even gonna interview her?" Priestly asked, looking put out.

"No, she needs a better job and Wes needs someone, so I'm hiring on the spot."

"Yes! Yes I want to work here!"

"Great. One more thing."

"What?"

"What's your name?"

"Oh, right. Alice. Alice Singer."