Sinking Faster

It has been hour three in this book store. No one ever comes here. It’s located in the town village, nestled quietly in between all the boutiques on the street. Truth be told, it is a bit isolated, and only locals come here to get their books, probably because it is a used book store. You can find anything here, ranging from the writings of Virgil to Ned Vizzini. There’s piles upon piles of books stacked everywhere on the shelves and tables, which often become very disorganized. And of course, since I am one of the three employees that works here, besides Tom, the storekeeper who is never here, it is my job to categorize the thousands of copies of worn-down paperbacks. Not only do I have to do that, but I also have to deal with old ladies coming in, trying to bargain me with their yellow pages full of books, which by now are probably dusty and worthless. Needless to say, it is a tiring job. Working one hour here feels like four.

By the time I arrived to my apartment, which is also Courtney’s, I was surprised to see a Silver Honda parked visibly in the driveway. I knew it was someone who had never been here before because the garbage cans were knocked over, trash bags piling onto the concrete. This only happens when one has never been to our apartment before.

“Courtney? You here?” I yelled, taking my key out of the door and shutting it.

“Yeah! I’ll, uh, be down in one sec!” she replied from upstairs. This meant one thing; she had someone over, most likely John, and was trying to disguise it from me. Lately, they’d been talking constantly, leaving her to gush about him over and over to me. He was a band boy - not to mention a good looking one at that - and I didn’t trust him. In fact, I didn’t trust any relatively good-looking or “sexy” guys. Most try to pull a hit and run with your heart, and I wasn’t up for that. I guess I was a hypocrite in saying that, because I do the same thing, but to an extent; at least I do it knowing the feeling is mutual, each partner knowing that there’s no strings attached by time morning comes.

“Hey, Nicole. What’s up?” Courtney asked hurriedly, sounding a bit distracted. Her cheeks were red and she appeared to be breathing heavily.

Lifting an eyebrow, smirking, I replied, “Not much. What’ve you been doing all day? It’s really quiet in here.”

It was never quiet in our apartment. Between the two of us, we were loud enough to make the people three doors down come knocking, bitching at us, saying to "please quietly entertain yourselves”. But like I said, it was never quiet, and I was oddly suspicious. There was no doubt in my mind that John wasn’t here.

“Um, well, I start-” she started to say, but was interrupted by John’s voice upstairs. Her face was as red as a tomato, and before she could say anything else, John came running down the stairs.

“Courtney, your dog just bit my ass. Not even kidding. It hurt,” he told her, putting his phone in his pocket. “Oh, hey, Nicole,” he greeted me, biting his lip, looking over at Courtney. “I thought you were working.”

By now, I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh; they both looked incredibly awkward, as if it wasn‘t obvious that they‘d done anything. John kept fixing his hair and Courtney was fumbling with her fingers.

“You guys,” I said, chuckling, walking to the refrigerator, “It’s okay. I know you were fucking, you don’t have to make it seem so obvious.”

“Was it really that obvious?” Courtney asked, crossing her arms, a small smile upon her lips.

“Do I really have to answer that?” I responded, taking a sip of my coffee.

John laughed, putting his arms around Courtney, looking at her. “Well, babe, I have to go to band practice. The guys will beat my ass if I’m late again. And then it won’t look pretty.”

“Okay,” she laughed, hugging him, “I’ll see you later then? At the party?”

“Yes, ma’am. Nicole! You’re in, right?” he said, spinning his keys, grinning at me.

“Am I in what?” I asked dumbly, putting my cup on the counter.

“Are you going to Garrett’s party?”

“Why would I go to his party? He‘s not much of a fan of the Nicole Freeman,” I replied, laughing.

John sighed, messing up his hair. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him. He has his days, I guess. But forget about him, the rest of the guys really want to meet you.”

“Yeah, Nicole! You should come, it’ll be fun,” Courtney added.

“Mmm, alright. I’ll go. Only because I want to hear your band play.”

“That’s a-okay. You could be our new critic. But hey, I gotta run, so I’ll see you both later,” he laughed, winking at Courtney. A few minutes later I heard his car leave the driveway, signaling that he was gone.