"Gabriella!" Called an all too familiar and masculine voice.
I looked up from my favorite, ugly-brown recliner, pulling my nose out of the book I'd previously been fully engrossed in. A tall, lithe guy stumbled down the isle of shelves before he slid to a stop. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I imagined the sound of a car's wheels screeching. Panting, he held his hands on his knees and coughed.
"Hi, Sam." I said, unsure why he was so winded.
"Gabriella." He panted, straightening. "What are you doing?"
I waved the book in the air for a moment, still uncertain. My index finger was pinched between the pages, marking my spot. Sam's eyes—so dark they were almost black—widened in exasperation. He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Don't let Ava catch you reading during you shift." He warned me. I blinked.
"My shift?" I said in confusion. "But it doesn't start until one."
The black-haired man shook his head again. He stared at me like I was off my nut, in such a way that I almost questioned my own sanity. It was still daylight, wasn't it?
I discreetly peeked to make sure, relaxing when the bright glow from the sun was still lighting the store.
"It's one-fifteen, Gabriella." He deadpanned. My eyes widened. One-fifteen?
Flipping the book open, I looked at the page number, and paled slightly. I'd read around a hundred pages since I started, not even noticing. I snatched up a pen and jotted the page number down on my palm. I started to walk back up the isles with Sam, muttering the last names on the books before I placed the one I was reading back on the shelf.
"You really should start reading at home." He laughed. "God knows, if you get fired from this job I might loose my mind."
I rolled my eyes, smiling. "I'm sure you'd be fine." I replied, clipping my name tag to my shirt. "You love this job."
"No." He said, raising his eyebrows, his dark liquid eyes locked on me. "You love this job. I love the people."
"No." I said evenly. I avoided his gaze and went behind the counter. "I love the books. The job sucks."
"Whatever." He sighed in his annoying way of sounding like a kid. "Anyways, I'm going up to New York for Thanksgiving next week; there's some family reunion going on up in Rochester at my aunt's place. I guess everyone's going, so if I don't I'll be the topic of conversation all night."
I laughed. "That sounds fun...You should go even if everyone isn't, though. I mean, it's better than spending thanksgiving alone." I added the last part pointedly; I was always bugging that he need to hurry up and get married so that he would stop complaining about being lonely. He usually shot back a reply about how, I, too, was living alone in my apartment.
Today though, he just stared at me. I checked in some books that were in the bin marked "returns", and started to alphabetize them.
"What about you, Gabriella?" He asked suddenly. I blinked, turning my head to the side.
"Thanksgiving?" He nodded. "I'll probably go up to see my dad. He gets pretty lonely up at the hospital. I know he hates being confined to bed, so the least I can do is bring him some home-made cranberry sauce."
My dad was once a soldier, but a wound in battle had him bed-ridden for pretty much the rest of his life. He couldn't walk, paralyzed from the waist down, and his heart was bad. Basically, he was getting old. My own schedule wasn't constant enough to take care of him, so, although it broke my heart, he had to live in a hospital. My dad was the only person in my family I had left, other than my uncle in Spain or something who I'd never met.
Thankfully, the government paid his medical bills. I'm not poor, or anything, but paying those kind of bills were too much for me.
"Gabriella." Sam said seriously. "You keep telling me to get a girlfriend, but I think you're lonelier than I am."
"I am not lonely!" I gasped, stacking the books in my arms so that I could barely see and carrying them to the shelves. It was true, never once had I considered myself lonely. When I think back on it, it was probably because my being so alone came gradually, so I never really felt bothered by it. No, I wasn't lonely. I was just....bored.
Coming home to an empty apartment, knowing that when you get there nothing could have possibly changed because your the only one with a key. Sitting down to write because that's your profession, but you've got nothing to write about because there's not enough spontaneous people in your life to write about. That's boring.
The most boring part is a writer's block going on for years. Every writer knows that writer's block is like a disease—it won't go away unless you know the cause and the cure. I knew the cause—my life was boring.
Now I just needed a cure.
In my thoughts, and hasty attempt to get away from Sam, I didn't notice the wallthat marked the back of the store. I walked stupidly right into it, knocking a few books to the floor and causing my own stack to quiver. I stumbled backwards, and the top book fell to the floor. Cursing, I layed the stack on a table and turned to pick up the book.
Only, it wasn't on the ground anymore. Sam had it, a playful glint in his eye. I knew that look, and I knew what he was going to do. I narrowed my eyes as Sam suggestively placed the book above the shelf, where I could never reach it.
"Come on, Sam." I said. He always made sure I knew that he was taller than me, and used it against me in instances such as this.
"Admit it," He said. "Admit that your lonely, or I'll leave the book up there."
I cringed. As much as I love old, tattered, and busted up books, I take extremely good care of my own. I wouldn't purposely ruin a book. And the thought of leaving a perfectly good book up on the shelf to gather dust and mold made me cringe. Stupid Sam and his knowledge of what makes me mad.
"Give me the book!" I tried to jump up and reach it, but my finger tips hardly made it to the top shelf. I stood on the bottom shelf, knowing it could hold my weight because I did it everyday to reach books for customers, and pulled the book off the shelf. Sam looked mildly surprised as I began to put the books away.
I was feeling quite pleased with myself, to have beat Sam at his own game. I didn't let it show though, I just ignored him as he followed me down the isle. I continued helping costumers and cleaning with him talking in my ear, the words blowing over my head. It must have been hours before Ava, the store owner, spotted Sam spending more time bothering me than working.
"Samuel!" She snapped. Ava was a large, short woman with gray hair tucked neatly into a bun behind her head. She could be kind at times, but she had a nasty temper. "Leave the girl alone!"
Sam shut his mouth and scurried off, like a cat running from a dog.
"Thank-you, Ava." I said, putting some money into register. Ava grunted.
"Yeah, well, it's almost eight. Your shift is over; go home, child." She said, as the bell that signaled the door's opening rang.
I started to argue that I could use the hours and had nothing better to do at home, but I broke off when I noticed the couple that had walked into the store. They must have been around my age, their later twenties. Their fingers were entangled together, swinging at their sides. The girl giggled when the guy murmured something under his voice and smacked his chest playfully.
I stared at their hands, holding the others tightly. I felt frozen, my chest beat painfully in my chest. That girl, I thought. Is she bored? She doesn't look bored.
"Montez." Ava's voice brought me out of my stupor.
"I-I have to go." I said, and I rushed out of the store.
----
I don't know what made me do it, but after I practically ran out of the bookstore, I got into my Hyundai Sonata and instead of going home, where I was supposed to go, I drove down any street I could find. I didn't want to go home; there was nothing waiting for me there. I could have gone to see my dad, but I was on the verge of tears.
So I just drove, hating my car for it's bumpy ride and it's ugly gray coat. They said it was silver, at the dealership, but it was definitely gray. Stupid, stupid. I even had to register the fact that, when the light turned red, I should stop. I had to stop short though, and my head bobbed forward, almost smacking the steering wheel.
My throat was thick, and my nose burned. I turned up the radio so that the car vibrated with the beat. I hands were shaking, and I was scolding myself furiously.
Stupid, Gabby! I thought. You don't need a man. Hell, you don't need anyone.
The light turned green, and I moved forward, suddenly wondering where I was going. My eyes burned as the hot tears welled up, and I bit my lip trying to hold them back. Why was a crying? Nothing had changed for the last eight years, and it hadn't bothered me before. Was I having a meltdown?
Eight years...Now I felt old.
God, I felt stupid. So stupid as tears blurred my vision so much that I had to pull over. I covered my face with my hands and let out a sob, turning off the engine. My shoulders shook and I shivered, noticing how dark it was. I looked up to see where I was, praying that it wasn't the wrong side of town.
Somehow, the thought of me, the skinny little emotionally-challenged girl in a town of drug-dealers and gangs didn't settle well.
Fortunately, as I looked up, that wasn't quite where I was. I was in the plaza; a row of shops, stores, and pubs grouped together around one large parking lot. When I looked closer, the "24/7" sign on the pub I had stopped in front of was blinking and catching my attention.
My empty stomach (I didn't take a lunch break today, since I ate before my shift) snarled at me, and I felt famished.
You'd be surprised how much energy dealing with Sam, who just happened to be my best-guy-friend, takes up.
At the same time, I wasn't exactly in the mood for a big dinner. I stared at the pub's door, indecisive if I should go in, drink and forget, or go home and sleep like any mature, adult woman would.
Then again, they might have free peanuts at the bar....
By then I was wiping my eyes, blowing my nose and shaking off my little sob fest. I opened the door and stepped out, shivering and cursing at myself for not wearing a thicker coat. Locking the door to my car—although I can't say I'd miss it if it were stolen—I stashed the keys into my pocket and walked into the bar.
The first thing I noticed was the warmth. It was cozy and somewhat muggy, but much better than the cold outside. The second was the people. The place was less than packed, but it definitely wasn't empty. At least twenty people. The third, I noticed as I approached the bar, was the noise. For such a small crowd, it sounded like I was at a Micheal Jackson concert or something. And the fourth thing, as I sat at the bar and pulled the bowl of peanuts towards me gratefully, was that I was the only young woman here. They were all older women or men, so I situated myself closer to the women, but still a few seats away.
I picked at the peanuts, trying not to look like I hadn't eaten in days. To be honest, what I really wanted to do was take that bowl and dump the peanuts back like a shot of whiskey or something. I was moderate, though, in my peanut snatching.
I was watching all the people, yelling and laughing, banging their drinks on the tables and whooping. The quietest place was the bar itself, where half the people looked depressed.
I hope I didn't. Okay, so I was a bit emotional today, but I really didn't need to look like a depressed drunk on top of it all.
"Hey." I heard a voice and directed my attention to behind the bar. Of course, I had been zoning out, so when I noticed the bar tender standing directly in front of me I nearly fell off the stool. I placed a hand over my heart and he blinked.
"Jesus, you scared me." I breathed.
Understanding washed over his face, soon replaced with amusement. He had clear blue eyes, deep brown hair, and a slight stubble on his chin. I won't lie, he was kind of handsome, for a guy working at a run-of-the-mill pub.
…
Okay, so he was damn gorgeous. Anyways...
"Sorry," He smiled a heartbreaking smile. I sucked in a breath and suppressed a fan-girl 'sqeee!', disguising it as catching my breath. "Can I get you something?"
I blinked. "What?"
Apparently, meltdown-recovery includes absolute stupidity.
"Something." He repeated, frowning slightly. "To drink."
"Oh." I blinked. I felt out of it today. So of course, I continued to make a fool out of myself. "I dunno."
Seriously? I dunno? I must have been out of my mind. Luckily for me, the guy was extremely patient. He must deal with a lot of incomprehensible drunks. He laughed. I thought, don't laugh at me. But I didn't say anything.
"How about water?" He suggested. At the moment, I thought he was brilliant. There was a certain glow in his eyes that kept distracting me, so my replies were kind of distant.
"Uh, sure."
"K." He walked away to get my water, and I started to zone out again.
I was really close to discovering the secret to life—I swear, but a single tap on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts. I turned away from the bar, facing a group of men, a few years older than me, at least. I stared at them expectantly, waiting for whatever they had to say.
"Heyyy," One slurred, putting his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and rolled my eyes, turning back to the bar. "Aw, don't be like that."
"Go away." I growled. I was definitely not in the mood for this.
"Come one, sweetie." Another said, leaning onto the counter and smiling at me. I noticed that one of his eye brows was slightly higher that the other. "We just wanna talk. I'll buy you a drink."
"No. Thanks." I wasn't grateful though.
"Please, I promise you'll have fun?" He said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. A burst of fury welled up in my chest, and I smacked his hand away.
Maybe I didn't mention this, but I really can't stand being touched. Especially not around my neck or face. "Touch me again." I snarled, but in the tone that meant "Don't fucking touch me."
The guy put his hands up in surrender. "That's alright." He practically purred. "You're feisty; that's just fine."
"Guys," The bartender was back, and he didn't look pleased. "Back off. You've already caused problems tonight. Calm down or I'll have you thrown out."
One of the guys snorted, in an exaggerated way, too. "Oh jeez, you couldn't make us leave if you tried."
The bartender narrowed his eyes and glared at them with such contempt that even I felt a chill. Seriously, the guy looked harmless until he glared. The group stepped back, clearly showing that their bark was worse than their bite. One of them layed his hand on my back and muttered something about seeing me later.
Maybe, if I had been in my right mind, I wouldn't have done it. But clearly I wasn't myself today. Besides, I told them not to touch me. Sort of. So it's not surprise that as soon as his fingers came in contact with my back, I stood up from the stool, pulled my arm back, and sank my fist into the guy's jaw. He stumbled backwards, clutching his face in pain. The other guys backed away, their eyes wide in shock.
They muttered a few insults before stumbling out of the bar, their wounded friend following close behind. I sat back into my stool with a huff.
The bar had gone silent, people stared at me, gawking.
"I changed my mind." I said in an irritated voice to the dumbfounded bartender. "Get me vodka or something."
---
To put it simply, by the time there were only a few people left, I was wasted. The bartender, Troy, I learned his name, was still around cleaning about pouring me drinks. I'm sure I'd said some stupid things that I would never remember, but he was a pretty good sport.
"But you know what?" I said loudly. The few people left in the bar had joined our little conversation.
Troy looked amused. "What?"
"I don't even need a man in my life. I can take care of myself. Plus, my apartment is small."
"Amen to that." A lady, whose name was Carly, said, holding up her drink. She had red hair that was definitely dyed, because she was too old to still have colored hair. She wore a biker jacket. "Men are just a little fill in so that humans can keep on reproducing."
I nodded in agreement.
Troy put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. I think he knew not to take anything the people at the bar said seriously. "I'm hurt," He said. "Really."
"Except for you, Troy." Another woman said. "There aren't a lot of good men left, but your definitely a good one."
I looked at them all, not really knowing Troy. He smiled at her. "Thank-you, Tina."
"That's right," Carly said, slamming her hand on the counter, as if to prove her point. "This guy," She said to me, putting her hand on Troy's arm. "Is the nicest person within a five mile radius. You know, I think the reason I still come to this place is to see Troy."
I was still trying to calculate what a "five mile radius" was. That's how drunk I was. Once I was all caught up, I yawned, looking around for a clock. When I didn't see one, I looked over at Troy, who was watching me curiously. "What time is it?" I said, still looking for a clock.
"One A.M." He said, looking down at a watch on his wrist. Another bartender was there now, his name was Ryan and he had blonde hair. He didn't talk with us that much, though.
"Goddammit." I said, pouting. Tina rose her eyebrows. "I have..to go." For some reason, I paused between have and to.
I stood up and slid out of the stool, swaying slightly on my feet. I shuffled around my pockets before I pulled out my keys. I wondered if I would be able to tell my apartment key, store key, and car key apart.
"Whoa." Troy said suddenly. "You're not driving home."
I blinked. "I can do it! I'm a good driver."
"Gabriella." He said patiently. "You can't even walk straight."
As my luck would have it, as soon as he said that, I stumbled into a poll. I frowned, rubbing my head. Tina snorted and Carly snickered. Only Troy looked mildly concerned.
"But my house is like...a gazillion miles away." I whined. "And it's cold outside."
"Better tired and cold than dead, babe." Carly said, sipping her drink again.
I had to think of a way to get them to let me drive. I really didn't want to walk. I thought for a few minutes while they all waited for me to respond. "But.." I said, making my eyes wide as possible. "What if those guys from earlier are waiting for me?"
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because suddenly Troy's face hardened. He must have something against gang-bangers...or whatever those guys were. Just a couple of drunks, most likely. He sighed. "My shift is over. I'll drive you home."
I blinked.
Huh?
That wasn't really what I'd been shooting for. I was hoping something more along the lines of, "Oh, when you put it that way, you should definitely drive." It was better than walking though, when I thought about it. I paused, hesitating. It really did go against my better judgment to take a ride from some guy I really don't know. Then again, I wasn't making the best decisions tonight, now was I?
I thought about what Carly had said, about Troy being the nicest guy in a 5 mile radius. But what if that was a facade, and he was really some psychopathic killer? Hey, it happens.
But, I just really didn't want to walk.
"Fine." I said, pocketing my keys.
"Good." He said, tossing a cloth to Ryan and saying that he'd see him later. "Let's go."
I made a hmph sound, but let him steer me towards the doors anyways. Carly and Tina called, in their best sing-song voices, "By-ye Troy. By-ye Gabriella."
I called an unnecessarily loud goodbye over my shoulder, and Troy, who was right behind me cringed and waved over his shoulder. I hugged my shoulders, feeling the cold bite at my skin. He stared distastefully at my car before steering my towards his.
I didn't even protest. That's how much I hate my car. I was secretly hoping that someone would take it over night.
Troy opened the passenger door for me, and I slid into his black Chevy Volt. He shut the door after me and got in on the other side. The seats were leather and the inside was a lot roomier than it looked from the outside. Not only did the car look cool, but even it's name was pretty cool. I mean, Volt? Come on.
"Where do you live?" He asked, and I had to stop admiring his car long enough to answer.
"An apartment." I said. Stupid, stupid, drunk me. I saw that amusement light up his eyes again, and my heartbeat picked up a bit.
"Where, I said." He repeated.
"Oh." I blinked and thought hard. Where did I live...For some reason, when I tried to think of a street name, I was coming up with blanks. "I...I dunno."
"You don't know." Troy repeated, and when I nodded to confirm this, he shook his head. He let out a breath, and I noticed the way his chest moved when he breathed. His black shirt kind of hugged him, so it was a pretty good sight. "Can you call someone to tell you?"
"My phone's dead." I knew this without checking. I forgot to charge it last night, and left it on during work today. "And I don't remember numbers by heart."
It's true. I don't know anyone's number by heart. If I lost my phone, I would have to ask everyone whose number was in my contacts for their number again. The only number I ever memorized was my ex-boyfriend's, and I've long forgotten that one. I don't even remember Sam's.
Troy started the car, and I felt a rush of warmth when the heat turned on. I turned on of the ducts directly towards my face and sighed. I waited for him to start driving, not even caring where he was taking me. I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes.
I was wondering when he would start driving, when I felt a slight bump and opened my eyes. Did we hit a pothole?
I blinked and realized that we were already halfway down the street. Turning in my seat, I saw the rail-road tracks disappearing behind us. That wasn't a pothole, it was the tracks. This car barely took notice of any bump in the road. The ride was so smooth that I had thought we weren't moving.
"Holy crap." I breathed. Troy looked at me questioningly. "This car...it's so smooth."
Compared to my car, that flew about ten feet over every single rock and pebble, this car felt like it was floating over calm waters.
Troy chuckled. "I guess.."
He guesses? "No, I mean seriously." I was pretty excited about this. "This is freaking amazing!" I was gripping the edge of the seat, and for some reason, maybe because I was drunk, my heart was racing. Troy was looking at me occasionally as if I might have an episode or something.
"Well." He said after a pause. "No offense to your car, but compared to that thing this car must seem like a million bucks."
I laughed. "I hate my car, actually. I hope someone steals it. The only reason I lock it is because I leave candy in the glove compartment and don't want them to take that."
Now it was Troy's turn to laugh. He had a nice laugh; it wasn't overly excited or awkward at all. "You cherish the candy more than the car?"
"Yup. Maybe I'll take the candy out tomorrow and leave the key and the car unlocked. Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you to my place." He said, keeping his eyes on the road. My heart thumped. "At least until your sobered up enough to know where you live."
"Do you have any paper?" I asked suddenly.
"Uh..there might be some in the glove compartment. Why?"
I scrambled to pull out the paper and fished a pen from under his registration and stuff. My heart was racing again, and I jotted things down quickly on the paper. I wanted to write, all of the sudden. I wanted to write so bad. And now, I had something to write about.
"I'm a writer." I said, not really paying attention. "And I just thought of something to write about."
That seemed to be enough of an answer for him, and he stopped talking. My wrist was hurting from the awkward position, but I just really needed to get this stuff down while I was still feeling it so I didn't forget. I wrote about this morning, about Sam, about Carly and Tina, the bar, Troy, and then his car. They were scribbled notes, but enough for me to turn them into real sentences later.
You may not realize it, but this was kind of huge. The first time I had something to write in years, even if it wasn't enough for an actual story. I was happy, really happy, and not because of the alcohol. Actually, the alcohol was starting make me feel sick, and I hoped we would be there soon.
I had a whole new buzz ringing in my ear, and I didn't notice when I poked my tongue out slightly in my annoying habit. I didn't notice the smile that grew on Troy's face when it happened, and I definitely didn't notice when the car stopped.
Troy was an awesome driver with an awesome car, and he'd just broken me out of my writers block.
One down, who knows how many more to go :D
rEvIeW pLeAsE
peace out!