A Series of Unfortunate Events

(That Only Happen to Jane)

Busted knees. Deadly head injuries. Ex-boyfriends that won't go away. Angry amputees and crying old ladies. If there was one thing Jane didn't have, it was good luck. Along with her best friends and circus-ready parents, Jane was just trying to make it through the mess she called life. So when a bumbling police officer keeps bringing her together with a man she had made a less-than-perfect first impression on, it could only go downhill from there. Right?

Prologue

The day started out horrible. I was in one of those moods. You know those moods…you're half the wicked bitch of the west, and half hysterical, laughing yourself into tears. Well, that was me that day.

See, the day started out the same way it does every time I get into those moods. Actually, I lied. I have a tendency towards the slight white lie, not that they ever matter. It started the night before. I got so caught up in doing nothing that I never called my best friend, Adrene, when we were supposed to be going out the next day. Or, as it is now called, today. Of course, by the time I woke up with still no plans, she wasn't answering her cell, my other friend was at work, and of course everyone else had their own lives to live.

So what did I do? Anything a bored girl would do. I think. I opened up the makeup case and did myself up. Not to get the wrong idea about me, that's really not the type of girl I am. Truth be told, I'm more of a teensy bit of eyeliner and some lip gloss girl, maybe some blush if you're lucky. But boredom pushes you into weird, random things. And I must say, once I was done…yeowza! I had to grin in spite of myself, I looked pretty damn hot. Actually, that's another lie. See, I'd never thought of myself as, well, for lack of better words, un-hot. Just not…this hot.

Of course, it didn't stop there. Now that I had done the make up, the hair had to come next. Truth be told, I didn't do too much with my hair, just a little more than usual. It was up, and it was cute. And darn it if I weren't cute too! Well, cuter than usual at least. I've always prided myself on being cute.

Now that I've made a conceited ass of myself, I might as well get on with the story, might I? I had a choice of things to do that day, alone of course. I could go to the library, but I had already done that at least twice this week, for lack of better things to do than bury my nose in trash. Fun trash, but trash none the least. I could go to the mall, but I had already spent over a hundred at the local department store on absolutely nothing days before, so it probably wasn't the best idea. Of course, since it wasn't the best idea, it was what I absolutely had to do.

So that's how I found myself on this hysterically horrible day, weeding through the trashy novels at the mall bookstore. Hey, can't go too far off the beaten path in one day, now can we? That's when the day got…interesting. I had my nose buried in the middle of an exceptional piece of trash, reading through the dirty parts of course, had to make sure it was worth the money, when I heard a quiet laugh to my left. Looking over to where the mystery novels were located, I saw him. Him. The him that was laughing at me. Not able to contain my wicked bitch of the west side, I immediately cocked an eyebrow. "Does something amuse you?"

Reclining a shoulder against a shelf of books I suddenly wished I had the witchy power to knock over with my eyes and sheer willpower alone, he crossed his arms and grinned. Grinned at me, no less, the infuriating jerk. "Just thinking."

"Thinking what?" I snapped.

"You look good," he said, his grin now more of a cocky twist to the sides of his mouth.

"Really?" I muttered sarcastically, trying to turn back to my book.

"Yeah," he said. "Real good."

"Mmm-hhmm," I snapped, my back to him. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know," he said breezily. "Your hair looks nice."

"As opposed to…?" I let the question hang in the air. "When it doesn't?"

"You know," he said, shrugging. "You did something different with it."

"Surprised you noticed," was all I could muster, but damned if I weren't still mad at him. Mad at him for…something. You know how it is.

"Yeah," he said. He was beginning to sound like he was parroting himself, and it was getting on my nerves. How many times in one conversation can one person say "yeah?" He continued. "But it's nice. So why the change?"

"What change?" I snapped, really wanting to finish the book I held. Or at least the part he interrupted.

"You don't do that a lot," he explained. "Your hair, at least."

"Yeah, well, if you hadn't noticed, I was a bit…unoccupied today," I said, really really wanting to be done with this conversation and back reading the book.

"Really," he said, the lazy grin returning. "Well, your hair is giving me some ideas of how to keep you…occupied."

Uh-oh.