Something Has Changed Within Me

Have you ever just gotten so sucked into a book that you didn’t wanna get out?

That’s where I was right now.

I was entirely enraptured with the plot, enthralled by the characters. Nothing else could have my attention.

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon in New York City and I was sitting in one of the many Starbucks contained within the city reading Paper Towns by John Green for the umpteenth time. Nothing like spending your afternoon reading your favorite book surrounded by people writing or discussing business, a coffee with a disgusting aftertaste sitting before you, untouched.

I was just about to reach the climax of the novel, the one part that always brought tears to my eyes. I was sitting on the edge of my seat, my eyes volleying from left to right… when someone tapped my shoulder.

Snapped back into reality, I jumped, bumping into the counter and causing my coffee to spill everywhere.

“What the hell!” I hastily snatched up some napkins and wiped down the counter.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” The apparent tapper said as he sat down in the stool beside mine, watching me clean the mess that was, without question, his fault.

I glared at him through my bangs as I threw the now drenched napkins and empty styrofoam cup into the rubbish bin.

“Did you want something?” I grumbled to him as I picked my book up off of the stool that I had tossed it upon.

He looked so arrogant, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at me, one brow cocked.

“I wanted to comment on your poor choice of literature.” He said with a small shrug, his snug leather jacket making a squeaking sound as he did so.

I was silent at first, letting this wash over. The hysteria of the past three minutes was due to something so unnecessary… really?

“Young adult novels are so tedious that there’s really almost no point to them, save the amusement of teenagers…” he continued. “…which you clearly are not.”

My brow rose. This guy sounded… intelligent.

“You look just like the type to critique what I read…” I snapped, looking him up and down. His red hair was sloppily set, a nose ring pierced through his nose. Beneath his leather jacket was a white shirt with some sort of text that was left illegible by his pose. His tight jeans were like a second skin on his legs. High top converse sneakers adorned his feet, completing his look.

Oh yeah, he’s a real winner.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, uncrossing his arms. I could now see that on his shirt was a monkey playing the cymbals. I almost laughed. When I didn’t respond immediately, his mouth opened. “Well… you look like a librarian.”
He almost threw me off with that. Almost.

My blonde curls were tied up in a loose ponytail, square, thick framed glasses sit upon my face. I wore a light pink sundress with a white cardigan over it, black heeled sandals on my feet. How this drew him to the conclusion of librarian, I was unaware.

“Right. And on that note…” I picked up my book and my bag and turned to leave.

“Wait.” I’ve no idea why I stopped. But his voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Stay and… lemme buy you a new coffee… to make up for your wasted one.” He was now out of his stool and standing. I could see that he was a good head taller than me. Not that that’s saying much, I’m not exactly the tallest person ever…

I turned on my heel, my scrutinizing gaze fixed upon his face. “And why should I do that?”

He smirked. “Because you, like any other woman before you, cannot resist my adorable mannish charm.”

Almost like a reflex, I rolled my eyes. “You have about as much charm as a zombie.” Despite myself, I could feel my body lowering itself into the stool beside his.

He smiled, happy with his brief triumph. “Zombies are my heroes.” He stood up. “What would you like?”

“Just get me a small coffee, black.” I said, turning away from him and facing out the window, glaring at the New York traffic.

Why was I still here? This guy was clearly aggravating, cocky, and just plain bothersome. So… why am I willing to sit here in a Starbucks with him?

Inwardly, I groaned and opened my book. Before I could get too into it, however, the guy walked back over, setting my coffee in front of me.

“You like your coffee gross.” He said as he sat down and grabbed a handful of packets of sugar, opening them and dumping them into his.

“And you like it full of carbohydrates.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those kinds of girls.”

“I’m not,” I said looking up from the pages of my book. “Sugar’s just not my favorite thing ever.”

“Why do you read that?” he asked, glaring down at the book.

“Because it’s brilliant.”

“Hardly.”

I closed my book with a snap and looked up to him. “And what, may I ask, do you read then?”

He shrugged casually, taking a sip of his coffee before speaking. “Sci-Fi, mostly. Some fantasy.”

“And you say I have an immature taste.” I mumbled.

“Young adult is right in its title!”

“Have you ever even read the book?” I asked, holding it before him.

He looked down at it speculatively. “No.”

I handed it to him. “Read the prologue. That alone will change your opinion of John Green and young adult literature.”

He stared at the book sitting before him as if it were the most disease ridden bit of text he had ever seen before.

“Why should I?”

“Because clearly your opinions are ignorant… you need to see what good books are all about.”

“What do I get out of it?”

“The wonderful experience of John Green’s writing.”

His brow cocked and he lightly chuckled. “How about a date Saturday night?” His green eyes staring down into my blue.

I thought about it for a moment. I must have been especially masochistic today. “You’ll have to read the entire book and be able to have an actual discussion on it.”

His smirk was, undeniably, adorable. “Deal.” He reached over and grabbed a clean napkin, writing his number on it. “Here’s my number, librarian.”

“I am not a librarian, I’m a photographer.”

He laughed. “Chick, any girl who agrees to go on a date with a guy with the only condition being that he reads her favorite book is a librarian.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. Having no real response to his statement, I muttered, “My name’s not chick…”

“Well, seeing as how you’ve yet to tell me your name…”

“Lindsey Clarke.”

He smiled, but didn’t respond.

“And… your name?” I realized then that I had agreed to go on a date with a guy who’s name I didn’t even know.

Yeah, I’m a winner.

“Garrett Nickelsen.” He said simply. He stood up, downing his coffee. “Call me tonight, we’ll work out details of our date.” His smile was arrogant… yet, infectious.

“And what makes you think I’d do that?” I asked as he went to leave.

“Simple… I have your book.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I might like this Garrett Nickelsen.