Bookshop

Honestly, I'd never seen him. Had he ever even been here before now? Surely, he wasn't staying. There was a guy, a little older than me, twirling his fingers in his curly brown hair at the counter, holding a small envelope. He looked around for an employee, and I knew one would be there soon. I dreaded the though of someone coming. Because once they came, he'd probably leave here, and never come back. I gathered the courage it took to stand and take my book with me. I tapped him on the shoulder. He twirled around, apologizing.
"I'm so sorry! Did you want to...?"
"It's fine! I was wondering if there was anything you needed!"
He seemed to be cool with just standing there. But I know that being here wasn't his first choice. A bookstore? A guy like him? No. Never.
"I just moved here, and my mom wanted to order something..."
That explained a couple of things. Why he was here, and why I hadn't seen him before. Those blue eyes. Gosh, I should have known that there is no way to overlook them.
"What's your name?"
He interrupted my train of thought.
"Aimee."
"Spencer."
He held his hand out to me, and I shook it. Then, he pulled out a piece of paper. I watched him intently. He asked me
"Do you have a pen?"
and I jerked out the pen I kept behind my ear. He thanked me kindly, and wrote seven digits on the paper, an address, and his name, as if I could ever forget. He handed it to me. I couldn't believe it.
"Text me whenever, you can call me, and don't ever feel shy to come over whenever you feel like it."
"Are you serious? We just met!"
I know I probably sounded ruder than I meant, but honestly, it was all shock.
"Yeah. You're the first person to talk to me in a week."
Gosh. People were crazy. I took the paper. He seemed to forget about the envelope. "Wanna' sit with me?"
It was stupid, yeah, but his eyes were hypnotic.
"Yeah."
We walked back over to the bean bags, and I plopped down with my new copy of "A Kiss in Time". I was interested, but I kept looking over at him. While I had been turning my pages, he had been finding a book on the side table. "Evercrossed". My favorite author. Elizabeth Chandler. And a romance. Could this guy get any better? He seemed to like it, and he was moving through it quick. I had to say something.
"You like her work?"
"Who? Oh, Chandler? I guess she's okay. I really don't have a favorite, though."
Oh, okay.
"The book's great, though. I've been through it all. Tristan was just great for me."
I had to love this guy. There was absolutely nothing I could get him to say that would not make me want to tackle-hug him. But that would not be practical. We sat there, discussing books and music. I think he enjoyed it as much as I did. When the moon was high, and the people were leaving, Spencer and I walked over to the counter. He bought the book, and handed the lady the envelope. She brought out a bag.
"Tell your mom that we said enjoy the books."
He took them gently, and we walked into the starlight.
"I'll be bored tomorrow, if you want to do this again?"
He offered. Was this a date, or just a friendly get-together?
"Why don't I show you around?"
"Okay, what time?"
I slept late, but I didn't go back to sleep until late, either. What time wasn't too early me or too late for him?
"Nothing before nine. But we can stay out as long as you want, after that."
He could do *nothing* that made me not want to tackle-hug him.
"Ten o'clock?"
"Good for me."
I started walking down the road. He followed me.
"Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Sure." Actually, I want nothing more than you to pick me up.
We talked as he followed me home. The porch light was on, and I saw the television running through the window. I leaned against the door, facing Spencer. He walked closer until there wasn't even a foot between us.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?"
he whispered to me. I nodded. My voice would have cracked if I had tried anything else.
"Good."
And he kissed my cheek. Then he walked away, hands in pockets, practically skipping. *Nothing* could he do. I stood there for maybe five minutes, taking it all in. Was I going to tell my parents? Maybe. Was I going to tell Lynn and Jane? Of course.
I opened the door, ran to my room and plopped down on the bed. I pulled out my phone and texted Lynn.
"I met a guy today."
I don't know why I didn't conform to the acronyms and the misspellings. It just wasn't me. Maybe it was because I read so much. The "texting" was probably like poison to me. I sent Jane the same message. I told these two everything. Jane replied first. "WATS HIS NAME? DID U GET THE #? :D "
Classic Jane. Before I could reply, Lynn sent me a message.
"Where did u meet him?"
I answered all their questions and more, until they had to got to sleep. Then, after the thoughts running through my head, I went to sleep early. Ready for ten o'clock to be here.