Sinking Faster

“So, I think it would be best if you moved those books from that back self to the bigger shelf in the front,” Tom directed me, pointing to the back wall at the cherry wood bookcase. He stared down at the clipboard in his hand, peering out from beneath the square-framed spectacles perched at the tip of his nose.

“Let’s see. I really do think that would be the most ideal approach. That way people can take a peak at what’s for sale from outside…”

I let out a low grunt in response, as any conversation made by me would most likely be ignored; Tom was too preoccupied in thought, having gone berserk over last week’s sales, saying that there weren’t enough purchases made. I honestly couldn’t see why anyone would be attracted to coming inside. The sign on the store was rusted and faded; it wasn’t at all replaced in the seventeen years that this store had been established. Since the property was old, it hadn‘t been remodeled recently, either. The floors were a faded black-and-white checkered print, and the lighting wasn’t at its best, either. There was barely any air conditioning in here, as the only air that came out was musky and smelled rotten. The whole place looked obsolete. It seemed ancient, which was probably why it mostly attracted the old folk. Either way, most of were here to sell their books or perhaps buy a yellowed copy of their favorite paperback from the decades prior.

Once in a great while, college students would venture in, in search of textbooks, but that was usually only in the fall or spring. The fact of the matter was that not many people came in here. Thus, I was surprised when Garrett stopped by unexpectedly.

I was moving the books from the back shelf as I was told, carefully arranging them in the front case. I was so fixated on trying not to drop any of the books in the disorderly pile I was carrying, that I paid no mind to the sound of the bell ringing. I thought that it was just a curious customer up until I heard the thumping of books hitting the linoleum floors.

“Shit,” I heard Garrett mutter, bending down to pick up the books “I’m sorry.”

I sighed, getting down on my knees to help him. “It’s fine,” I replied reluctantly, gritting my teeth.

“Where do you want these?” Garrett asked me hesitantly, glancing around.

“Um, you can just put them on the shelf right next to you,” I told him, pointing to the shelf.

“Alrighty,” he said, setting them on the wooden shelves. He then turned around, smirking, slapping his hands against his pants. “So, this is where you work.”

I rolled my eyes, biting my thumb subconsciously. “Yep.”

“It’s so boring,” he stated, walking around, examining the tables of books. “It’s like, almost dead. Does anyone even come in here?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s mostly just older people, though.” I couldn’t comprehend as to why he was here, at my job of all places. It wasn’t even near the suburbs, where most of the guys hung out. It was located in the village district, which was, I assume, the last place he was likely to visit. “So, what are you doing here?” I finally asked, leaning against a table haphazardly.

He shrugged, looking at me indirectly, his gaze focused on ceilings. “I don’t know. Me and Pat went to that comic book store down the street, and then I remembered Courtney mentioned something about you working here, so…”

“That’s cool...wait. Where's Pat?” I inquired, putting my hands in my pockets.

“Oh, he’s still at the comic store,” Garrett told me, pointing in the direction of it. “There was this girl there, and he liked her, so he'll probably be there for a while.”

I laughed. “Aw, Pat‘s so funny.”

“Yeah, well, I actually think she liked him,” he snorted, messing around with his unruly hair.

“It’s probably because he’s got that puppy face,” I said, scrunching my nose.

“Probably,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. He then focused his gaze on me. “So…did you eat yet?”

“Nah,” I answered, playing with a strand of my hair.

He smiled, shaking his head, placing his keys down on the table. “Well…are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” I replied, soon diverting my attention to him. “I’m starving, actually.”

“Well, would you wanna swing by Chipotle with me?” he asked, drumming his fingers against the table.

I turned around to look at the clock, biting my lip anxiously. “I don’t think I can. I have break in an hour and a half, and no one else is here besides me.”

“Well there‘s no harm in taking it earlier instead…” he proposed, a teasing grin placed among his chapped lips.

I shrugged, glancing back at the clock again. “Maybe…as long as we’re back by two I should be good.”

“Great,” he grinned, picking up his keys, spinning them around his finger. “Let’s go, then.”

“Hold on, let me lock up real quick…” I told him, grabbing the keys and my bag from behind the desk. I locked the door, following after Garrett down the sidewalk.

“Shit, it’s hot,” I said, noticing the unbearable amount of heat surrounding me as I put on my ray bans.

“Yeah, I know,” Garrett agreed, shielding his eyes from the penetrating sun. “I’ve been fucking dying all day.”

I chuckled, tucking a stray piece of dangling hair behind my hair. “Well, that’s what you get for wearing those,” I chuckled, pointing to the black jeans that clung tightly to his skinny legs.

He laughed, sending me a playful smirk. “Well, we can’t always wear short shorts like the ones you’re wearing, can we?”

“They’re not that short.” I looked down at my ragged blue jean shorts and shrugged, tugging at them from the bottom. “And I’m pretty sure you’d be able to fit into them anyway.”

“I won’t be able to after we eat,” he laughed, pulling the handle of the glass door of Chipotle. I felt the difference in the air as the cold air blew swiftly from the loud air conditioner inside.

Walking up to the registers, I ordered a grilled chicken fajita burritto, while Garrett ordered a burrito bowl at the register next to me. I dug through my purse, my fingers latching onto my wallet.

“Wait, no, I got this.” Garrett took two steps next to me, tossing a ten dollar bill across the counter, offering me a small smile.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I told him as we walked to a table, trays in hand.

“I know,” he smirked, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. “Just think of it as a favor in return for the Slurpee the other night.”

“Okay,” I replied, biting into my burrito. I had almost forgotten that I had paid for him. I was in such a hurry to get out of there, away from that gold tooth capped man.

It was only a ten minutes later when I looked up at the red clock that ticked quietly in the corner near the window, realizing that I had three minutes to get back to the book store. I divulged the rest of my food quickly, slurping down the rest of the soda in my cup in one gulp.

“Whoa, what’s the rush?” Garrett chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Ihaveto - get - back - work,” I tried saying, although I was sure that he wouldn’t understand me with my mouth full. Confused, he furrowed his brow, scrunching his nose in the process. I took the few seconds to notice had stubble growing briefly on his upper lip, also along his chin, which had me thinking of how adorable he almost looked.

“You think we should go then?” he asked diligently, throwing his garbage on the tray and standing up.

“Yeah,” I replied, fidgeting with the hemline of my shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Garrett put the tray on the top of the garbage disposal, now heading toward the door hurriedly. “It’s fine,” Garrett replied nonchalantly, smiling. “I don’t want you to be late.”

He held then held the door out for me. “Thanks, Gar,” I smiled cheekily at him, slinging my bag across my shoulder.

“It's no problem.” We both walked at a strenuous pace along the sidewalk and ran our way through the midday traffic upon crossing an intersection. We finally edged our way toward the block the store was located on. Even from a distance I could see Tom’s old puke-green Volkswagen parked crookedly next to the curb in between two other cars. I could only assume that I would be in deep trouble. Only because now, my break was well past fifteen minutes over, and I suddenly remembered that I’d forgotten to switch the sign on the store to closed, since it had been unoccupied.

I sighed dramatically, as it occurred to me that Tom, the small, bald and beefy man was going to blow a storm. He would holler at me until his cheeks turned beat red, while I, on the other hand, would count the tiles on the ceiling in attempt to tune him out of earshot.

“What’s wrong?” Garrett asked, breathless, his cheeks red. “Geez, I’m sweating my ass off.”

“My boss is here. He’s gonna flip shit,” I replied, staring into the shop through the large glass window, seeing if Tom was anywhere in sight. He wasn’t, which meant that he was holed up in his office, which in turn, was never a good sign. He never stayed for too long, and when he did, it was in his office. He only spent time in there when he had was planning to bitch at someone, or when he was filing paperwork, which was scarce.

“Damn, Nicole. I’m sorry. I really didn’t think it would take this long,” Garrett apologized, rubbing his neck uncomfortably.

“It’s fine. He won’t fire me, at least,” I replied, glancing back into the store hesitantly. Now I saw Tom next to his office door, his chubby hands on his hips, his face also as red as I predicted. He was glaring at Garrett and I, and at this, Garrett noticed.

“I should probably go, shouldn’t I?” he asked slyly, smirking.

“Yeah, you should. You don’t want the beefy man yelling at you, either, right?” I laughed.

Garrett looked at Tom through the window, shaking his head left to right. “No, I definitely do not.”

“Good,” I smiled. “I’ll probably see you later or whatever.” I didn’t really know what to say to him. I felt comfortable around him by now, but I wasn’t sure how to act, or how long this friendship would last. It could go as quickly as it came for all I knew.

“Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Lemme give you a hug for good luck.”

I felt his sleeveless arms wrap around me, squeezing me tightly. “Now if he gives you any shit, make sure you tell him that the zombies will come and slice him,” he then whispered, soon letting me go.

I chuckled, walking over toward the door. “Okay, I will.”

“You better.” He grinned, walking over to his yellow Camero parked across the street.

I smiled to myself, pushing the door open, the bell chiming at my entrance. However, my smiled soon faltered as my eyes met with the angry ones of Tom’s.