“Seriously, what’s the deal with the air?” I asked.
“I’ve been promised that it will be fixed before our big sale day,” Misty said. “At this point, I’m about ready to find a tutorial on DIY air-conditioning repairs online.”
“Let me know if you need any help when or if it gets to that point,” I said, sipping the water again.
“Darlin’, I’ve known you for all of two days and have witnessed your clumsiness. DIY might not be your God-given talent. Maybe you can be my navigator, reading me the step-by-step instructions,” she said.
“That’s fair,” I said.
Misty peeked at a book I had propped open on a stool behind us. I’d taken a picture of the book with “I. P. Freely” and “Dixie Normous” written in it and sent it to Zoe and Noah. Misty laughed.
“I see you’ve found some of the treasures in the piles,” she said.
“Who knew there were so many unfortunately named DCC students,” I said.
“Who knew.” Misty smiled. She and I worked in a concentrated silence. It wasn’t awkward—we were a pretty good team. I’d hand her the books and cross them off the inventory list while she’d shelve. The pen I used ran out, and I headed back up to the counter to get a new one. Toward the front of the store were the “real books.” Like, the ones people actually wanted to purchase. I saw the blaring Fabio cover that the woman at the front desk had been reading and picked it up. This time I noticed the broken ship in the distance and the fire on the sandy beach at their feet. Love Castaway, it was called. I shuddered. It looked terrible.
A million school notebooks and sticky notes lined the racks by the “real books,” along with some computer software and other miscellaneous supplies. Tomorrow would most likely be the Black Friday of textbook sales for the store—classes started in a week and the books were all 25 percent off. Misty said that there would probably be about five workers tomorrow and for the rest of the week, rotating out. Since I was the newbie, I’d most likely be retrieving books or doing more of my favorite task, inventory.
With pen in hand, I headed back to Misty. She looked from her watch and back to me. “I have to pick my daughter up from swimming lessons,” she said. “Porter’s supposed to be in to work the register, but I can see that he’s late. You ready for a crash course?”
I nodded and followed her up to the front. The register was fairly easy—it was old-fashioned with an actual key that I was told to guard with my life. Misty said a quick thanks and headed out the door, after writing down the instructions on one of the notebooks from the rack.
I jumped as the bell on the door rang and Porter walked in. He sauntered in, dropped off a bag in the back room, and joined me at the cash register. He’d barely nodded at me as he walked in, and for some reason it really bothered me that he didn’t greet me. Granted, I hadn’t returned the favor, but still. I was going to make a point to show him I was the bigger person. I grabbed a random book off the shelf and walked to the front of the room where Porter scribbled in the notebook that contained the cash register instructions. His eyes stayed trained on the notebook as I tried to casually get his attention. I probably looked like a broken toy car circling around the front of the bookstore, but no matter what subtle thing I tried, he would not look up.
“Uh, Misty left me in charge for a bit, that’s why the notebook has directions in it,” I said. He peered up from the page and nodded before writing in the notebook again.
I breathed out like a deflated balloon. I put the book on the completely wrong shelf and came by the counter.
“So what are you writing?” I asked.
Now he smiled. “Observations.”
“Like, of the store?” I asked.
He nodded. “More or less.”
“Make sure you get the part about the hideous Fabio book over there. Who buys that junk?” I asked.
He scribbled some more, and I peeked at the notebook.
“Did you just write that I’m nosy?” I asked.
“Only a nosy person would be looking,” he said, that little smirk creeping the corner of his mouth up.
I crossed my arms. “Well, I’m going to go back to inventory. Have fun writing in your little judgey notebook.”
“Will do,” he said. I scowled again and for the thousandth time headed to the textbook section of the store. I almost turned back with about twenty snarky remarks, but I kept walking.
* * *
The apocalypse of book sales days had finally come. The store braced for the massive crowds of textbook-hungry students. Misty worked her way around the store in repetitive circles, bringing up miscellaneous things from the back room that she deemed necessary. This time she came back with five candy bars in hand and passed them around to the four other workers and me.
“You’re going to need this later. Save it for break,” she instructed.
I nodded, hiding it in the back pocket of my jeans. I’d have to be extra careful not to sit down on it. A brown candy bar stain on the back of my pants definitely wouldn’t look good. There was another girl that I hadn’t met before named Megan who was on running duty with me, along with Porter at the front, and two guys named Jason and Chris in charge of circulating and helping to find the books. It was a surprisingly well-planned attack, considering Misty didn’t seem to be one for organization.
For the first hour it was similar to what I believed hell might be like. The air-conditioning still hadn’t turned on, even after Misty’s daily pestering about it, and I constantly stayed on my feet, running to the back room to get books in stock or helping people find them on the shelves. I heard customers complain about the heat, and I wanted to hit them all over the head with one of their precious textbooks. None of the workers really talked to one another—we all had specific missions that we were on and none of us wanted to be bothered. Every once in a while I would eye Porter at the register and see him smiling—actually smiling—at customers as they left. He was capable of being decent to everyone but me, apparently.
When it reached about noon, my stomach growled loudly. I had eaten the melted candy bar at least an hour and a half before then. Thankfully Misty came over to Megan and me and ordered me to go on a thirty-minute lunch break. I thanked her profusely and raced to the back room. I snatched the crinkled brown sack with my name scribbled on it and sat at an old table in the corner of the stock room. Microwave soup never sounded so delicious. As the microwave heated up the concoction of broccoli and cheese, someone shuffled into the break room.
Porter pulled out his water bottle and sat at the table silently. I joined him with my soup, and we sat for a while without saying anything.
“How’s it going out there?” I asked. I can’t help myself. If there is an awkward silence, I must fill it.
“Fine, thanks,” he said, taking another gulp.
“Good.” I nodded. Was he just really bad at small talk or did he hate me for no reason?
“So have you been writing more in that notebook?” I asked.
“You mean more about you?” he asked, with that little smirk we’ll just call “the Smirk” from here on out.
I blushed. “No, just in general. I mean, there’s a lot to observe today with all these people.”
“A few things, I guess,” he said. He finished off the rest of the bottle and stood up. “I’m going back out.”
“You’re a brave man,” I said.
He forced a little smile before leaving, and I had visions of drowning in my broccoli cheddar soup.
Things started to settle down around three, and Misty came back to where Megan and I were shelving more books and clapped her hands.
“All right, Megan, you can go on home,” she said.
Megan let out a huge sigh of relief, and I waited for Misty to tell me the same. Unfortunately, per my luck, she had a different idea.
“You don’t mind closing up, do ya, Danielle?” she asked.
I gritted my teeth. “Sure, that’s fine.”
“Great! Po
rter’s still got the register, and I told him you had the shelving handled back here,” she said. I nodded and waited for her to leave me to cry a little. I had told Zoe that we could go out later to Moe’s, but it seemed like it would be a tiny bit later than anticipated. Zoe’d been busy lately keeping up with her job and helping her mom out with her sister, and tonight was finally going to be our girls’ night.
I watched as the last customer took his glorious time in finding just the right textbook with the least amount of wear and tear and waved at him as he left. I turned around to sigh at Porter, but he was already scribbling away at his notebook again. I internally rolled my eyes and flipped the door sign to “Closed.” Just as I was about to walk away, car lights shined through the front door as a new car pulled into the parking lot.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said under my breath. I opened the door. “We’re closing up.”
By some cosmic power I’m still trying to fathom, Luke Upton in all of his glory, large pizza in hand, stared at me from the sidewalk. A small smile crept onto his face.
“Of course you work here,” he said.
“Did Porter order pizza?” I asked.
This made him laugh. “I guess you could say that. Porter’s my roommate. He was complaining that he was hungry and had to lock up, so I played the good roomie and brought him food.”
My eyes widened. “Roommates?”
Porter opened the door, and we both jumped as the bell rang. “I see you two have met. Danielle, Luke; Luke, Danielle.”
“Dani Cavanaugh?” he asked. When Luke finally said my name, a shiver went up and down my spine. He looked at me like he’d just found his lost teddy bear, and I couldn’t help but smile. We both had so many questions that we didn’t realize how prolonged the silence was.
“Hello? An answer would be nice,” Porter said.
“What?” I asked, shaking out of my daze.
“I asked if you two knew each other,” Porter said, turning to Luke.
“Yeah, we do,” Luke said. “We used to be neighbors when I lived here.”
Our eye contact never faltered as Luke talked to Porter, almost like he was trying to figure out how he never realized who I was before. Granted, my sixth-grade school picture would probably scare small children, but I didn’t think I had changed that much since the last time we saw each other. Maybe I just wasn’t one to leave much of an impression. My face fell a bit, and Porter coughed—probably a side effect of the uncomfortable air that was spreading between us.
Porter looked at his watch and then back at me. “I actually have somewhere to be. Luke, thanks for bringing the pizza, but I’m meeting Emilie at Moe’s in ten.”
“Oh,” Luke said. “Yeah, no problem, man.”
“Don’t let the pizza go to waste,” Porter said. “Why don’t you two have a little neighbor reunion? It’s cute, really.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke said, hitting his arm. “Tell Emilie hi.”
“Surely,” Porter said, nodding at me. “If you’re not moving around too much, the motion-sensor lights will turn off, just fair warning. Keys are in the back. Close up when you’re done.”
“Uh—” I started.
“You two behave,” Porter said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Good-bye, man,” Luke said, pushing a laughing Porter off the edge of the sidewalk. We watched as Porter’s Jeep backed out at a frightening speed and flew around the corner. Once he was safely out to the street, Luke turned back to me. He shook his head, laughing silently at either Porter or the situation that he had gotten himself into. Probably both. He drummed the pizza box with his fingers for a few seconds before deciding to fill the silence.
“So, do you like sausage?” he asked.
I giggled. “The pizza topping? Yes.”
“Oh jeez.” He laughed. “I’m normally more on top of avoiding sexual innuendoes on the first date.”
“Date?” I asked.
I anticipated a blush, but the ever-charming Luke held out his hand to me. “I figured a date would make up for me being an asshole at that party. I knew that I remembered you, and I should have recognized you right away.”
“Am I supposed to grab your hand?” I laughed.
“Yes,” he said, taking mine. “I’m leading you into the date. The date place? The place of the date.”
“Ah,” I replied. “I guess I’ve been doing the whole date thing wrong all this time.”
He pushed the door open with his back and pulled me in before him. I brushed against his leg as I passed, and in my distraction I bumped into the pizza box. Hard. I sucked in a sharp breath and inspected the monster scratch that now bled on my forearm.
“Oh no,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Just incredibly klutzy,” I said. “I think we have Band-Aids somewhere. I’ll be right back.”
I scrambled to the back room, digging through shelves trying to find the first aid kit that Misty described to me on my first day of training. The scratch was more of a gouge now that I looked at it up close. I imagined my obituary—death by pizza box and faulty blood platelets. I managed to find some paper towels on the break table to hold up to my arm and stop the bleeding, but they were getting soaked through pretty quickly. How was I bleeding this badly? Maybe my hormones were pumping my blood faster than normal. Or I had an autoimmune disorder. I reached for another wad of paper towels as my phone rang.
“Oh my God, Zoe,” I said, answering the phone.
“You are beyond late,” she replied.
“I am so sorry,” I said. “I meant to text you earlier that I was closing up, and I’m bleeding, and I’m sort of on a date right now—”
“Wait, what? Why are you bleeding? A date?” she almost screamed.
“I cut myself on a pizza box,” I said. “Luke Upton’s pizza box.”
This time she really screamed. “You’re on a date with Luke? This is a crucial best friend update. I’m so hurt!”
“It just happened like ten minutes ago. Please don’t disown me. I will call you later tonight and give you all the details. Aha!” I yelled as I found the first aid kit. “Zo, I’ve really got to go. I promise, promise, promise I’ll call later.”
“Whatever, I’m too proud of you to be mad,” she squealed. “I can’t believe our stalking paid off!”
“Good-bye, Zoe.” I laughed.
“Use protection!” she yelled before I hung up on her. I found a large Band-Aid to wrap around my arm and could feel the bleeding starting to subside. Thank God. I put the kit back and took a quick look in the mirror by the door before leaving. Well, Luke had picked the perfect moment to have this date. I’d been sweating all day, and my hair resembled a messy, fake-blond perm from all the humidity. The latest color Zoe experimented with on my hair was a far cry from my naturally muted brown hair, but I was assured it made my eyes pop. I licked my fingers and tried to smooth out some of the curls around my face, but it was pretty useless at this point. A lot of my makeup had also smeared over the day so I had the drowned-raccoon look going for me as well.
“Sorry I took so long,” I said, rounding the corner. Luke had set out the pizza on the floor in front of the textbooks in the back, pulling two boxes full of books next to each other to make seats. He had a stack of printer paper by the pizza box and was smiling shamelessly.
“I couldn’t find plates, so I stole some printer paper to use,” he said. “How’s your arm?”
I sat on the box across from him and held out my battle wound. “On the mend.”
“Good,” he said. He opened the box and handed me a piece with three pieces of paper stacked underneath it. I could already feel the grease soaking through the paper so I grabbed three more to make a sturdier plate. The pizza hit the spot, even though I had been craving Moe’s onion rings all day. Pizza in the bookstore may be my new favorite tradition.
“So,” I said. “The one thing I’ve been trying to figure out this whole week is why you came back here. Aren’t there plenty of schools
closer to Cincinnati you could have gone to?”
He swallowed his bite of pizza and looked up at me. “There are, but surprisingly, Denton’s one of the only community colleges in Ohio with a decent football program. And since I was injured in my senior year, they are letting me come here on scholarship and train with the team. They are the only ones who still wanted some damaged goods.”
“I’m sure they’re so lucky to have you,” I said. “What’s it like being back in your hometown after all this time?”
“It’s definitely weird being here and not living at the house, for sure,” he said. “I sort of applied as a joke, but they ended up giving me the best deal. Plus, I’ve heard that the DCC girls are wild in bed.”
“That’s why I applied too,” I said.
He laughed. “I don’t remember you being so funny.”
“That’s because every time I was around you I could barely talk!” I said. “You really didn’t know the effect you had on eleven-year-old neighbor girls.”
“Are you saying I don’t have the same effect now?”
“I’ve learned how to manage it,” I said, taking a huge bite out of my pizza. “How is Olivia doing? I haven’t heard from her in years.”
“She’s about to start her senior year of high school. You know how that goes,” he said.
I nodded. “Is she still involved in every activity humanly possible?”
“President of her class,” he replied, shaking his head. “Everyone loves Liv.”
“That’s how I remember it. It’s sad how we can practically live with someone for years and then completely lose touch with them. God, I mean Liv and I had our weddings planned out when I was ten and pinky swore to be each other’s maids of honor,” I said. I think we buried our wedding scrapbook out back by the Toad Motel. I’d have to save that embarrassing revelation for later.
The Big F Page 5