Delancey Street was full of life – anonymous hipsters listened to music on mainstream iPods, punk kids leaned not-very menacingly against display windows, and disheveled-by-design teenages milled about and examined show posters. The whole scene was typically rebellious, but also gave off a very 'poser' feel.

Gilbert looked pretty disheveled himself, though it was absolutely not by design. He had his thumbs resting in the pockets of his jeans, which were tight and unwashed. His extremely pale skin was becoming a bit red under the broiling sun – New York summers were nothing short of brutal. He looked like he had been in those clothes for a few days, and that was a pretty fair assumption for anyone who knew him.

For the most part, people moved out of his way when he walked in their direction. He gave off the impression of some thug that might hurt them if they dared to intrude too much upon his personal space. He was pretty grouchy, but he wasn't about to knife somebody, at least not unless they were about to do the same to him.

He walked for a while before coming to a shop almost at the end of the street. There stood a little shop filled with books and old records, and it inhabited this old NYC building, like back from the days when the city was more or less a city. Ivy covered the front, with little potted flowers surrounding an iron bench in front of the building. Gilbert wondered if he would need a tetanus shot if he sat on the bench. He entered, pushing a door with a laminated paper that read "USED BOOKSHOP! SHHH, PEOPLE ARE READING!" taped to the door, which sounded a tiny bell hooked to the top.

Looking around, one could see tall bookcases on all the walls, and grand bookshelves stood every few feet of the floor. It smelled dusty, as one might expect a used bookshop to smell. Is was solemnly silent, and he didn't see any employees. Gilbert was never a social person so he headed behind a bookshelf and grabbed a book from the highest shelf – he was tall without being massive, so that was not a challenge for him.

He flipped through a few pages, losing himself in the feel of smell of the book almost as much as the words, when a great ruckus erupted from over by the counter. Gilbert almost dropped his book as he was startled and ripped from his trance. He glanced over, wondering if somebody else had entered.

A woman – well no, a girl, probably about his age – exited the back room holding a tower of boxes that nearly collapsed on her with every movement she made. She dropped them roughly on the counter, and just as Gilbert had predicted, most of them flipped off over the edge and exploded on the floor. At least it might have not been so bad if she had bothered to close any of them...

"Oh shit! Ohshitohshitohshit, if anything broke, Andy might kill me, or worse, fire me!" the girl muttered, apparently not realizing that she was not alone in the store.

Gilbert considered just pretending that he had not noticed her, but his internal 'good citizen' was not shutting the hell up at the moment, so he reluctantly walked over and grabbed a handful of pens off of the floor.

"Hey, isn't the line from Harry Potter?" he inquired of the girl.

Her head whipped up to look at him, eyes wide and clearly shocked. Her cheeks were rapidly becoming more flushed, and there was a moment where neither one moved nor spoke.

"Oh my god, did you hear me? That's so embarrassing! How long have you been here? Did you hear me singing Miley in the back room, because I promise I only know that one song because my kid sister was playing it when I visited this weekend! Argh, I have the worst timing!" the girl fired off each question before the last, leaving Gilbert no time to answer any of them. He assumed that most of them were rhetorical anyway. In spite of himself, he smiled at how silly the girl was acting. He must have scared her, but she was pretty cute, like an over excited puppy.

"Are you laughing at me?!" she shrieked at him, clearly mortified.

"Hey, hey, I'm just laughing because your reaction is funny, and I don't mean that in a bad way," Gilbert said quietly, trying to calm the girl. "Sorry, did I freak you out? I guess I'm pretty intimidating, right?"

The last remark, which was made even quieter than the rest, caught the girl's attention. She lifted her face up to look at him, her head tilted as she spoke.

"You? Intimidating? No way, some of the people we get in here are so scary that I go in the back room and lock the door behind me! Last week, there was a kid with more piercings on his face than I had in my ears in seventh grade – that being 'a fuck ton'."

Gilbert snorted trying to hold back a laugh, which only made him burst out with a loud chuckle instead. The girl had to tilt her head downward to giggle at his laugh, which didn't seem to match how he looked at all. It was silly and childlike, while his exterior was rough and much more grown up than she was.

"Hey me too! Mine all closed up, but it looks like you've still got a few."

Hidden behind her long medium brown hair were small emerald studs on each ear, as well as a gold cartilage piercing on her left ear. They were small earrings, which suited her, as she was, by all definitions, a 'tiny person'.

Gilbert realized that he had been staring at her, and hurriedly turned to grab more junk – Jesus, why were those boxes filled with nothing but crap? – and shoved it in the nearest box. The girl did the same, and they worked in silence until the floor was once again clear.

"So, um, I guess since I work here it's my duty to ask if you need help with anything. Were you looking for anything?" the girl asked, trying to fill the silence that had grown between them.

"Eh, not really, a friend of mine mentioned this shop to me since I'm really into old book and vintage crap."

"Well I assure you that we have no shortage of your coveted 'vintage crap'. I'm not sure how long you were in here before I came out, but did you see the records yet? I take them home with me sometimes, just overnight to listen to them a bit. They're all really good artists, and good condition to boot!"

"Not yet, but maybe when I come back tomorrow I'll have a look." Gilbert made a move to get up, and the girl stood up with him.

"You're leaving? Now? Are you sure I didn't... freak you out or anything?" she said, nervous and self-conscious.

"Don't worry about it, neither of us are as 'freaky' as we think that we are, so let's just stop worrying. and I promise I'll be back tomorrow. It's just that it's supposed to rain soon, and I live far enough away that I should probably go now. Besides, is it really that lonely here otherwise?"

"Yeah, nobody else really comes in except our longtime regulars. That's why I was so surprised to see you here. Well anyway, I'll be here all day tomorrow, so be sure to stop by!" she said as he walked toward the door. He opened the door, ringing the bell again, and slipped outside. He parted with a wave before turning the corner.

The girl held her breath for a moment before heavily exhaling and turning to head back to the office. Just as she made it to the door, the front bell rang. Turning around, she saw that the boy had stuck his head back in the door, with an inquisitive look on his face.

"Hey, whats your name anyway? Forgot to ask."

"I– My name's Elizabeta. E-L-I-Z-A-B-E-T-A. What's yours?"

"Gilbert. Blame my grandpa, it's his name too."

"I don't think it's bad at all!" Elizabeta paused, considering what to say. Um... see you tomorrow, Gilbert! Right?"

"Right. See you tomorrow, Elizabeta!" he called as he let the door slam shut behind him.