"These pictures are stunning," Mr. Lacoste said to me. "As usual, of course," he added with a smile.

"Thanks," I replied.

"There's a new contest I wanted to tell you about," he said, pulling out an ad and handing it to me. "First prize is $500. I'm sure you could win it," he told me.

I wondered if it was that obvious that I needed the money.

"Thanks, Mr. L. I'll look into it," I said, shooting him a smile.

"No problem, Nicole. You are an amazing photographer. I just can't wait to see the day that you become famous for your photographs," he replied.

"I'll be sure to thank you when I am," I said to him. He smiled at me, his chocolate brown eyes glimmering.

"All right, off you go now. I've got to prepare for my next class," he said. I nodded, thanking him again for the advertisement, and then walked out of his classroom and into the bright sunlight of the September day.

Just another day in the life.

I walked to the finance office so that I could pay my semester dues. I had barely managed to get the full payment, selling my pictures to various magazines, picking up shifts at the local diner, and playing guitar on the streets. Between paying the rent for my shabby one-room apartment and paying the minimum dues for school, I was literally living on every penny.

"Hello, Miss Evans. How are you today?" the secretary, Mrs. Patrick, said.

"I'm good. I have my payment," I told her.

"Just in time, too," she replied. I nodded, pulling out the check from my bag. I handed it to her and she processed it. As it was going through, she made idle chat with me.

"The weather has been just gorgeous lately, hasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, it has," I replied politely.

"I just wish I wasn't holed up in this office all day. I never get to enjoy the afternoon sunlight," she said.

"Yeah..." I said, not knowing how to respond.

Mrs. Patrick had always been nice to me. She understood that I was struggling to pay the tuition money every month and that I didn't have a steady job. Most kids that went to Berkeley had rich parents that paid for their entire undergraduate education. And if they didn't have rich parents, they were genius kids that got full scholarships. I had neither rich parents nor a beyond-genius mind.

"Well, here's your receipt. You should be all right until next month," she said.

"Thanks, Mrs. Patrick," I said, stowing the receipt in my bag. I would put it in my financial file when I got home later than evening.

From the finance office, I got on the metro bus which took me to the local diner and bar where I worked as a waitress. I had been lucky and was called in to pick up a shift. Usually, it was impossible for me to get work there. I was a less than part-time employee, which meant basically that I filled in for whoever couldn't make it, which wasn't very often. Apparently, the economy had hit a lot of people hard and good jobs were impossible to find. Who knew, right?

I got off at the corner of the street and had to walk about five blocks to get to the diner. All around me, college students and other people were milling around, enjoying coffees or talking freely about their busy lives.

The diner door opened with a sound of chimes.

"Nicole! Your shift started three minutes ago! Hurry up!" Steve, the manager and head cook, yelled when he spotted me.

"Sorry!" I called, rushing into the back to put my waitress apron on.

"Is Jaime here yet?" I asked, the door of the locker room swinging shut behind me.

"Of course not. When is she ever on time?" Steve replied.

I deposited my bag in my locker and grabbed the faded black apron from the hook. I hastily put it on and, while tying my hair up, rushed outside. I grabbed a notepad off the desk in the kitchen and hurried out to wait on my first customer.

"Hello, Oliver. Would you like the usual today, or can I get you one of our specials for the day?" I asked him.

Oliver was a regular customer at the diner. I had waited on him several times and each time, he got the same thing: a veggie sandwich with no pickles or tomatoes and a tall lemonade. Sometimes, if he was in the mood, he would order the cheesecake for dessert, too. But usually it was just the sandwich.

"Just the usual, thanks," he said, smiling up at me. I grinned back and wrote down 'the usual' on the notepad.

"One veggie sandwich with a tall lemonade coming right up!" I said cheerily.

I liked Oliver. He was only a few years older than me. He had also graduated from Berkeley, with a double major in philosophy and english literature. He was extremely intelligent, writing daily for the East Bay Express, one of the newspapers in Berkeley. Although he wasn't a journalism major, he had gotten a job easily as a writer there. Like I said, he was extremely intelligent.

He was also getting his masters degree in education. He said his passion was spreading wisdom and knowledge to the youth of the coming generations.

And he was cute. Cute in that hipster, I-can-pull-off-skinny-jeans-and-a-plaid-shirt kind of way.

"Thanks, Nicky," he said. I scrunched up my nose slightly.

I hated being called Nicky.

"It'll be out in a few minutes," I told him with a smile. Then, I retreated back to the kitchens to drop off the order.

"The usual for Oliver!" I called out to Steve.

"Got it!" he hollered back.

I went back out to wait on the next group of customers, a bunch of high school students that were probably skipping class to eat out.

"Hi, my name is Nicole Evans and I will be your waitress for today," I said, passing out a few menus to the students. "Can I start you off with some drinks?" I asked, holding my notepad out, my pen poised and ready above the yellow paper.

"No, but you can meet me after your shift is over so I can give you a good time," one of the boys, a blonde male with broad shoulders and crisp blue eyes. The others in his group howled in laughter, but I didn't lose my cool. This happened often.

"My shift will probably be over past your bedtime, so I don't think that will work," I replied without missing a beat. This caused his friends to laugh even harder and the boy to flush a deep red. "But in the meantime, can I start you off with some drinks?" I repeated.

"Just water," the blonde muttered, clearly embarrassed.

"Dr. Pepper," one of the others said.

"Mountain Dew," another ordered.

"Gatorade," the last said.

"I'm sorry, we don't serve Gatorade. We have fruit punch, if you'd rather have that," I told him.

"Nah, I'd rather have you. But seeing as you're not available either, I'll just have a water," he replied back snarkily. The guys laughed again and I fought back the urge to roll my eyes at them. High schoolers.

"I'll bring your drinks right out. In the meantime, you can look over your menus and order your food," I said. I turned on my heel and went back to the kitchen to fill up their drinks. Just as I was doing this, my fellow associate, Jaime, rushed in.

"Sorry I'm late!" she cried, dashing into the locker room to change.

Jaime was three years older than me. She was the single mother of a daughter that was two years old. She was petite, had dyed black hair, a tattoo sleeve, chocolate brown eyes, and a body to kill.

"Jaime, one of these days I'm going to fire you," Steve said as she entered the kitchen with her waitress apron on.

"No you won't. I earn so many tips. You can't afford to lose me," she replied. She glanced at me, winking.

"Hey, Nicky," she said.

"Hey, Jaime," I replied.

"We're not that busy, are we?" she asked.

"Not right now, but the dinner rush is about to start," I replied, filling the last glass with water. I made sure to lick the tip of my finger and run it along the rim of the glass. Jaime watched, amused.

"Annoying high school kids?" she asked.

"What else is new?" I replied. She snickered.

"I saw Oliver out there. Did he get the usual again?" she asked.

"Of course," I answered, balancing the drinks on the tray.

"I swear to God, he has an issue of some sort," she said, sitting herself on one of the bar stools in the kitchen.

"Jaime! Instead of sitting around, how about you clean up the tables out there before people start rushing in?" Steve suggested.

"Got it, Cap'n!" she replied, saluting him. I laughed lightly and pushed open the swinging door.

I deposited the drinks on the high schoolers' table, got their orders, went back, picked up Oliver's order, and took it out to him. During this time, the diner began filling up. People were coming in from work or classes or school. There were men and women dressed in business suits, families of three or four, college students of varying degrees of wear.

In no time, Jaime and I were bustling around, taking orders, delivering orders, and refilling drinks. I was satisfied that today I was getting a fairly good amount of tips. Jaime always got a load of tips because she was so friendly and bubbly. Steve had a rule that he split the tips with the workers that were working that day. Since it was just Jaime and me, we made quite a sum of money  by the end of the dinner rush.

"Damn, I hate the dinner rush," Jaime said when the last group of customers walked out.

"Yeah, but it's our best source of income," I pointed out.

"True that," she replied, giggling.

We wiped down the tables, mopped up the floors, cleared the bar and closed the diner for the evening. At the end of the night, we counted up and divided our earnings.

"An even $40.00 each. Not bad, teammate," Jaime counted.

"No kidding," I said.

"We did good," she said. "Why don't you work here more often?" she asked as we made our way to the back. Steve had already left. Jaime was given the responsibility of locking up.

"Because Steve doesn't know how to say no to new hirees," I replied. She snorted.

"Right? He's ridiculous. I keep telling him he needs to get rid of some people, but he always says that we're all like his children and he couldn't do that," she said.

"He said that?" I asked. She laughed and nodded, pulling her apron off. I stuffed my own apron in my locker, a small smile on my face.

That was nice of Steve. I hadn't realized he cared so much about us. But I guess it was with our help that his business had fluorished so well. With our help, we advertised to and drew in customers.

"How's Taylor doing?" I asked, grabbing my bag.

"She's good. Today, at her nursery, she made friends with this adorable little boy," she told me.

We walked out of the diner. She pulled the keys out to lock the doors.

"By making friends I'm sure you mean something else," I said. She grinned.

"She bit his foot," she said. I couldn't help but laugh.

Taylor had platinum blonde hair and wide blue eyes, the complete opposite of her mother. She took after her father in her features, but overall, she looked like Jaime. I knew when she was older, she would look just like her, except blonde and blue-eyed.

"Everything you tell me about Taylor reminds me of you," I said.

"Hey! I haven't bitten anyone foot as of yet," she defended with a laugh.

"Yet being the operative word," I said.

"True," she replied. We stood at the corner, waiting for the metro bus.

Financially, the two of us were in about the same boat. Jaime also had a one-person apartment near the outskirts of the Bay Area. Between paying her rent, bills, and fees for the nursery, she was also living off of every penny. She worked two jobs: one as a waitress and one as a parttime manager at a bike shop in the main part of town. She had suffered through a bad relationship, was a single mother, and was currently housing her drug addict of a brother.

Even with all of the horrible things life threw at her, she managed to laugh it off and brighten everyone's mood with her personality and smile. I admired her for her incredible strength.

If only I had the same will power she did.

_________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I'm going to try really hard to make this a story that develops along the way. It's going to be like Learning to Fall in that I'm not going to reveal exactly what's going on in Nicole's life until later on in the story.

So what did you think of the beginning? Yay or nay?

Leave me a comment with your thoughts!

And please, vote!

Also, let me know if you want me to write this first or Ticking Clocks. I'm already 4 chapters into Ticking Clocks and this one has just started.

XOXO