Hush, Hush

When I got up the next morning, I barely acknowledged my alarm clock, already learning of its deceptive ways. I made a beeline for my curtains and forcefully pulled them apart, blinking painfully when the sun attacked my sleepy green eyes. I pulled them back together and sat back down on my messy bed.

At least now I knew it was 6AM.

About half an hour later, I managed to enter the elegantly build kitchen, only greeted by isolation and the slightly humid air. As expected, a plate of pancakes was resting on the table, not as steamy as the other day because it was probably out for a couple of minutes already. My stomach grumbled at the sight and I hurriedly grabbed a fork from the labeled drawer.

As I munched my delicately made pancakes, my eyes roamed around the apartment, fascinatingly taking in all there was to see. I was still not over the shock of it being my apartment. Heck, I couldn’t get it off my mind if I wanted because I was constantly being mocked by my subconscious about the bill at the end of the month.

Before I got into a mental fight again, I noticed a cut out piece of paper, expertly taped to the fridge with what Chelsea informed me as being called a fridge magnet. I knew what a magnet was but I’ve never seen one stuck to a fridge or in the shape of a Barbie doll before so I was confused at first.

Curious, I got up off my stool, the fork still in my mouth. I chewed my food absentmindedly as I read the note.

Chloe,

By the time you read this, I’m already out and probably at work. That means it’s no later than 6:30am. I would just like to refresh your slightly sluggish memory: Work is at 7AM sharp. Good luck on your official first day, hunz,

Chelsea

I choked slightly on my food as I read the end. 7AM? But that leaves me…15 minutes to get there! Without thinking, I flushed down the remainder of my pancakes with a cup of fresh milk and quickly washed up before I ran out the door. I almost left without my purse, which I impatiently yanked off from the coat rack. I fumbled for my keys as I half jogged to my car. Just like last time, I tripped but managed to save my ass a painful acquaintance with the ash-wood pavement. From the force I opened my door with, I wouldn’t be surprised if it went flying into the nearby park.

As though it were mocking me, the time was quickly ticking the minutes for me and I’m ashamed to say that I broke a law or two on the way. I crossed my fingers for luck, like I used to when I was five and prayed I made it there on time. Surprisingly, I ended up getting to the mall just as the green numbers flashed 6:59AM.

Flinging my poor door on its hinges, I strung my purse on my shoulder and ran for all I was worth. If I didn’t have enough money to even buy myself decent shoes, I couldn’t afford to get fired before I even started to work. So as my eyes strained to see the polished floor I was trampling on, my body collided, hard, into a wall that I was certain hadn’t been there before.
Now let me mention some things I’ve never really been good at. One: I sucked at anything that required balance or undivided attention. And two: I was a natural born klutz. With that said, it isn’t so difficult to picture what happened next.

And that is, my whole body tumbled to the floor and my hands shot out instinctively. I was so focused on not breaking any of my teeth that I failed to realize how my face wasn’t smashed by the damn shiny ground below me. And I also, apparently, didn’t feel the hands that we keeping me from fulfilling that fate.

They seemed to sag under my weight and I immediately felt heat rush up my face. I wasn’t the world’s slimmest girl and God knows I’ll never be considered model material, so I was a bit self-conscious about my figure. I also really hated physical contact of any kind. Having this stranger’s arms around me…it felt odd and I don’t think I liked it all too much.

During my lonesome embarrassment, I was able to squirm and fidget enough to seal my own fate. See, a klutz’s one true mission was simple and very straightforward; one: she had to be embarrassed, and two: she had to fall down.

So guess what happened then? Bingo. I fell.

I wasn’t that far up above the floor to begin with, so my fall could barely be called a fall. But the unfortunate person who tried to save me got it much worse. Not only did I make them fall with me but also, I magically happened to fall on top of them.

They grunted in a tortured voice, seemingly getting crushed by my weight. I spewed out apologizes that I was certain were incoherent as I tried to get off of them. Without thinking, I stretched out a hand to help.

Now, I don’t know what I was expecting. I didn’t think about gender or age or anything in the few diminutive seconds we’d been in contact but I should’ve figured a girl wouldn’t even have enough strength to lift my arm. His hand shot out and held mine firmly, lifting his rather slim body off of the floor. He quickly dusted his clothes and I had a feeling from the way he took his time that he was stalling our conversation.

“Uh,” he spoke, lifting his eyes. I was ready to take on all the awkwardness and help make him feel this much better but what I believed would’ve been clever and charming words got lost somewhere up my thorax as I was hit with his eyes.

Now, I would love to have said I acted mature and collected, getting over that moment of setback but I sucked worse than a vacuum at lying. So what I really did was gawk at him like a deer in headlights. It’s not like I haven’t come across gorgeous eyes before. Believe me, back at home, there were tons of blue crystals, emerald gems and gray orbs to openly admire. So why was I mesmerized by his?

Well, because they were brown. And I don’t mean boring, dull, wood color. I’m talking dark chocolate with a hint of almond nuts. I think what hooked me was the flecks of gold. If that wasn’t it, it was definitely the eyebrows. There was just something about them that made me want to laugh. And I think I must have because the same eyes that I were observing were watching me curiously, wondering if I must have lost a screw somewhere. I didn’t blame him; I wonder the same thing all the time.

‘Are you okay?” he asked in a deep voice, and I couldn’t help but notice how his eyebrows complimented his face. I mentally slapped myself. This was no time for ogling, I scolded my eyes. If I wanted to, I could do it in my own time I went on, aware of how sometimes my face betrayed my feelings. Right now you’re going to be---Shit,I thought out loud.

“Shit?” repeated the boy, whom I secretly named Brownie. I thought it was pretty clever of me. I didn’t know the snort in my head came out of my mouth. “Umm…did you hit your head or something?” he asked, concerned about my inner conversation and odd outbursts. I shook my head, momentarily forgetting I had to go to work. His voice was harmonious and I found myself wanting to hear it again.

He wasn’t convinced with my assurance but let it drop all the same. “Well….uh—“he started to say before my eyes caught a glimpse of a chicken-shaped clock inside one of the stores we were near. I swore and took off, not bothering to explain myself or apologize for the mess I created. I just hoped sincerely that I didn’t have to run into him again today.

Scratch that, run into him ever.

As I rounded the corner, I saw Brownie shake his head and mutter something to himself. I blushed even though no one was around. He thinks I’m a wacko, I thought detachedly.
Who cares, said a voice in my head that always seemed to pop out at inconvenient times. But I had to agree. I didn’t know him and fortunately, wouldn’t have to.

&&

I arrived at For Her 20 minutes late for my shift. Stacy, the manager, clucked her tongue before throwing an apron at me. I apologized profoundly as I slipped it on. Another girl was working the stands too and I waved politely when she looked my way. She gave me a weird look before walking to a customer that just walked in. I sight at my spot near the cashier, sad that my first day turned out so bad.

“Chloe!” I heard my name being yelled across the store and I jolted awake, not realizing I had dozed off. ‘Help out that customer.” She demanded, pointing at a figure emerged in a rack of clothes. I saluted enthusiastically before rushing towards said customer. The other employee girl was helping out two other girls and I caught a ghost of a smile on her lips. I scowled before facing my client, saying in a rather rude voice, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

The person turned around, a couple of shirts on their heads. They tugged it off, placing them on their arms. I heard a, “Yes, I’d like—“before they cut themselves off. We both stared at each other wide-eyed and mouthed “You!” silently at the same time. I didn’t think my luck was with me today at all.

Meeting Brownie twice in the same hour must mean something right?