The Bookstore

Chapter Eight

       I stared at Chris's mouth intensely as he aggressively chomped on his food. Open mouth chewing is another one of my pet peeves. He squinted his eyes.
        "What are you looking at?" he asked cluelessly through a mouthful of food. My eyes narrowed even more.
        "You're chewing loudly," I pointed out. I took a large bite of my sandwich and sloppily chomped on it, mocking his chewing. I swallowed. "It's gross."
        "It's food," he muttered, taking another big bite, but this time chewing with a closed mouth. I looked at the clock on the wall.
        "We should probably pick up the pace. Dave's going to break his back trying to reach high shelves and whatnot," I informed Chris. Worrying was one of my specialties, I'd come to realize. I always worried about everything. Being noticed. Being talked to. What would happen to my favorite character in a book. What mom was cooking for dinner. What Dave was up to. I scowled.
        "What's that face for?" Chris mused, setting down his sandwich. I blinked and looked back up at him.
        "Just thinking," I replied quietly. There was a crinkling sound as Chris wrapped up the rest of his sandwich. I did the same. "No eating in the car right?"
        "You got it," Chris winked. I rolled my eyes. Whatever he said earlier would never change the fact that he was annoyingly the most cocky and in your face guy I'd ever met. I heard a faint melody. Chris pulled out his phone. "Hey babe."
        I cast my eyes downward. "Oh I can't. I'm busy." My eyes flickered back up to see him giving me a questioning look. I looked back up at the clock. What was wrong with me? Can't a guy have a conversation with his girlfriend? We were just friends anyways. No wait. When did that happen? Chris was definitely not my friend. My eyes ran along the wall art and and designs. My mind wandered back to him. Why did I try so hard to deny that Chris was growing on me? I could see myself being friends with him, but I could never bring myself to admit it.
        Chris pulled the phone away from his ear and shoved it back into his pocket. He gave me a crooked smile.
        "What's that look for?" he asked lightly. I shrugged and let my eyes look anywhere else.
        "What look?" I muttered weakly. Chris moved his head so I had no choice but to look at him. My eyes widened slightly at his shockingly beautiful eyes. I studied the light green speckled with brown. His smile became a grin.
        "Getting lost in my eyes again, Jane?" he whispered teasingly. I scowled and turned away. "Aw, you're blushing." I huffed and marched towards the exit. Chris gently put his hand on my shoulder. I whirled around, giving him a glare. "Ease up, Jane. I'm just kidding."
        My glare softened. "Sorry, I-" I stopped suddenly, unsure of what I was even going to say to explain my rudeness. Chris shrugged easily.
        "It's fine," he said kindly. We walked out of Subway side by side.
        "So how long are you planning on working at Bailey's Books?" I asked, sliding into the passengers seat. Chris twisted the key.
        "I don't know yet, honestly," he answered as he pulled out of the parking spot. I studied my nails. "I think I'll keep this job for as long as I can." I looked over at him. Chris's eyes slid over to me and he gave me a toothy grin.
        "How long are you planning on not working there?"
        "As long as I can," I repeated his answer. Chris turned up the radio volume. I scrunched my nose.
        "What, you don't like Nicki Minaj?" he asked when he saw my face. I reached to change the station. My hand hovered over the buttons.
        "Can I-"
        "Yeah," he interrupted quickly. I smiled and flicked through stations. Passion Pit was on the local alternative/rock station. I turned up the volume and sat back in satisfaction. "You like this?"
        "Uh yeah," I exclaimed enthusiastically. Chris smirked at my sudden burst of energy. I became aware of myself quickly and sunk back into the passengers seat. He hadn't noticed, though. He was too busy rocking his head to the beat of the song.
        I turned my head to face the window to hide my amused smile. Passion Pit faded off and The Neighbourhood came on.
        "I love this song!" It was Chris's turn for enthusiasm. I turned my head quickly.
        "I hear it all the time on this station. They're going to outplay it one of these days," I muttered. "It's still a good song though."
        He opened his mouth and began singing along. My jaw dropped. A wave of laughter erupted and I slammed my lips together in attempt to hold it in.
        "I'm that bad, huh," he chuckled.
        "You're god awful," I snorted. "I mean, you're not that bad." Chris looked over at me with a challenge in his eyes.
        "Well if you think I'm so bad, let's hear you," he challenged. My eyes widened slightly and my face began to burn just at the thought of it. "Come on. It's just us and I won't make fun of you."
        "I can't," I squeaked, looking down at my thighs. My hair fell over my eyes, shielding me.
        "Okay, how about this," Chris began, "We'll sing the next song that comes on together." I tilted my head slightly to peer at him through my hair. I sighed deeply.
        "Fine," I muttered. We waited for the commercials to finish. The intro to what I'm guessing was San Francisco began playing. The guitar strummed for a while, then the band played and the singer jumped in. Definately San Francisco.
        "You know this song?" he asked.
        "Yeah," I bit my lip. Chris grinned.
        "Good," he replied. He jumped into the chorus. His pitchy voice sang the lyrics clumsily. I sang quietly at first, but Chris wouldn't accept that. "Louder, Jane. I wanna hear." I raised my voice a little louder. When I looked back up at Chris, he was swaying and shaking his head along. I laughed and sang a bit more confidently. What was it about him that made me so comfortable?         I mean don't get me wrong, I'm terrified of singing in front of people especially super popular guys that could literally destroy my life with the snap of their fingers. I'm especially terrified now, but despite my irrational fears, I belted out the lyrics along with the blonde boy sitting next to me that wiggled his body in every direction. The way Chris carelessly went after it made me feel a little bit better about embarrassing myself because hell if what he was doing wasn't embarrassing, then I don't know what is.
        I was so deep in thought as we sang, that I hadn't noticed that Chris had stopped singing for at least an entire minute. I stopped suddenly as I realized I was the only one singing. His hazel eyes bored into me with a somewhat fond expression on his face.
        "See, that wasn't so bad," he murmured. "Beautiful." My eyes opened slightly in surprise. If my face was red before, it probably resembled a tomato now.
        "T-thanks," I choked out unsurely. How to socialize a book by me, Jane Reynolds. Ha ha ha. I stared out my window silently for the rest of the drive.