AN: Oh my God, I'm so sorry this chapter is so late everyone! I've been working on some other fanfictions that I may or may not publish. I know, I know, you're all probably like "'May or may not'?! You kept us waiting and you aren't even sure you'll publish what you've been busy with?!" I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you all, I swear! Anyways, here's chapter 12!
Chapter 12
Moon.
As Jacob drives us into town, I find myself obsessively adjusting my clothing. I tug the sleeves of my black V-neck sweater down over my fingers, between incessantly adjusting my grey knit hat over my hair and rubbing the toes of my black boots together.
Jake turns the radio on and turns it to what sounds like a classic rock station. He sings along to a song I've never heard before, drumming his hands on the steering wheel to the beat. At one point he tries to do something I assume is beat boxing (which definitely does not go with the song), right before he screeches the high pitched guitar solo in his falsetto.
I can't help but crack up, doubling over in laughter as I hold my aching sides. I laugh so hard tears well up in my eyes.
"What? You don't like my singing?" He tries to sound hurt, but I can hear the laughter in his voice. "That guitar solo was spot on!"
"That was terrible!" I gasp and fight not to pee myself. "That was utterly horrific! You sound like a dying cat!"
Now Jacob's laughing too. "Oh, like you could do better?" He challenges.
I turn to him, finally able to breathe, though the huge grin on my face remains. "Maybe." He returns my challenge with a wry grin of his own. Another song comes on and he resumes his "singing", looking at me pointedly. Covering my ears with my hands, I chuckle and study him for a moment, taking in his toothy smile, his huge hands that firmly grip the steering wheel, his playful brown eyes. I can't help but to want to reach over and run my hands up his toned arms. He's crazy cute, not to mention sweet and kind. Jacob is probably the guy of my dreams.
When we finally get into town, Jacob parks in a crowded parking lot inside of an outlet shopping square. He lets me out of the car and leads me to the sidewalk.
"We can just look around unless you see something you like." He tells me. The sidewalk is buzzing with people hurrying in and out of stores, of which are various and vast. There are extravagant purse stores, suit shops, bakeries, restaurants, and a huge bookstore. I beg Jacob to let me go inside and he does, giving me a little chuckle. Once inside, I weave in and out of bookshelves with childlike fascination.
I've always loved reading as a kid; I would read absolutely anything I could get my hands on: the signs outside of the small shops in my village, the aged labels on the glass bottles my mom would keep her home remedies in, the worn and tattered textbooks they would give us in my small schoolhouse. Anything that had words on it, no matter what it was, I would read it. My family had a small bookshelf that held a few books that were from who knows what century, but my mother would never let me touch them. They were family heirlooms, she said, and a child's clumsy fingers would ruin them. But my father could see my hunger for reading, and would read to me while my mother was away. There was one book that my dad would read to me over and over until the words were engrained into my mind, and it is as I'm wandering among the shelves of books that I find it.
I freeze in my tracks as the shiny silver title embroidered on its large, elegantly decorated spine glints at me as it reflects the light. It reads:
The Complete Collection of American Poetry
I reach out and carefully, gingerly lift the heavy book off of its shelf and turn it over and over in my hands. The familiar weight and feel of it brings back countless memories of my father and I reciting the poetry from this very book nearly brings tears to my eyes. I can probably recite every single poem in this entire book at whim.
"Moon?" I vaguely hear Jacob say in a worried tone at my side. "What's wrong?"
"This book…" I whisper as if not to awake the words that lie dormant in the pages. "I've always loved this book. I've read it more times than I can count."
Jacob reads the title. "Poetry, huh? How much is it?"
I turn the book over in my hands to see the price sticker on the back cover. My heart sinks. "Seventy-five dollars."
Jake's eyes widen and he lets out a low whistle. "Seriously? It's probably all the expensive binding. Well I don't know, maybe I have a gift card or something." He begins to rummage through his wallet, but I stop him and pull him towards the exit.
"No, it's fine. That's too much to spend on one book." I mumble. As much as I want it, I can't ask Jacob to spend so much money on me after he's already given me so much. I tell myself to let it go.
"Are you sure?" Jacob protests. "'Cause I can—"
"—No." I insist. "It's fine, really. Let's go somewhere else."
Jake eventually concedes and exits the store with me and walks me down the sidewalk in the direction we had originally been going.
AN: I know this chapter seems like it's just a bunch of filler, but it's not, I swear! I wanted to further develop Moon and Jacob's relationship before getting to the more serious stuff later on, so I wrote this chapter and the next one. But that's not the only purpose these next two chapters serve! They have an important role in later chapters of the story that I'm planning on writing. But anyway, please review! The next chapter won't be so late!
