You & I

To move this story along, I'm going to skip ahead to the day I met Jackson.

I hadn't seen Chris for a few days because he was actually busy working. This took a weight off, it was easier to fall back in to our comfortable pattern of texts and calls, then to see him regularly, wearing his fitted shirts and being generally cute.

Oh and no, I'm not avoiding the obvious, I know what's happened to me.
Hi, I'm Grace and I'm a hopeless fangirl. Fangirls are my people now.

Where was I? Oh right. So Tara still had a week left of her visit and she had insisted on seeing everything. The full American experience, 'like they have in the movies.' Tara's been to the US before by the way. Her game plan was obvious and the only excuse she accepted was when I had to work.

On a sunny Thursday afternoon, we ended up in a tiny record store in the heart of the village. It was one of those places which was packed full of new releases and rare gems, along with surreal art and novelty movie memorabilia from ridiculous films. It was almost as if it had been decorated to resemble the inside of my head.

"I love these little record shops." Tara read my mind as she browsed through the CD's. "It's surprising they make any money though."

"We don't."
The answer came form near the counter.

I had seen this guy when we first walked in, but presumed he was a customer. Most likely because he only looked to be about 26 and he was really cute....Ok, so maybe I badly stereotyped the usual record shop owner. Clearly I was wrong if they looked like this guy.

"Do you own this place?" Tara asked.

"Yeah - for the time being at least," he grinned. "I'm Jackson."

"Tara," she replied with a smile, "and that's Grace." She looked my way and winked. Discretion never was her strong suit.

"Were you looking for anything in particular?" Jackson asked, he was walking down the opposite aisle towards me.

"Excellent sales patter."

He raised a brow. "Thanks, I've been working on it."

Oh boy he was cute. Universally hot, but maybe I've just got this thing for tall, dark haired, blue eyed men with boyish grins and just the right amount of facial hair.

"People still buy vinyl?"
Tara was asking herself the question as she held up the 7", but in usual Tara fashion, it was loud enough for me, Jackson, and the random guy who had just walked in to the store to hear.

"It's a cool place you've got here. Very...Empire Records."

For the second time in less than ten minutes he gave me a curious look. Not that I wasn't used to such reactions, though it was usually more of a 'what the fuck are you on about?' kinda look.

"Are you even old enough to use that movie as a reference?"

"I was quoting Ace Ventura and listening to Faith No More while you were losing sleep over your first pimple."

Jackson chuckled. Hopefully he was laughing with me and not at me. I got my answer with his next words.

"Maybe you'll let me talk about my teenage agony over a drink some time."

There was this voice in my head which was telling me I shouldn't agree to go for a drink with Jackson. It's the same voice that makes an appearance whichever I'm around Chris, and don't actually need to be reminded of how great he is.

But I could feel Tara's eyes burning in to me, screaming at me to agree. I could practically feel her frustration if I turned down a possible date when this is what she had encouraged. She's probably right.

For once it seemed better to not go on instinct. I decided to just do what any sane, single girl should do in my situation, and be happy that a cute guy seemed to be interested in me. And so I gave Jackson my number.