Two Can't Keep a Secret

First Glance

I see him straight away. I've tried to nonchalantly drift past him a few times today, at least twice he's looked at me with these deep, brown eyes, which leaves me slightly dazed and confused as to what any of this means. I stroll past the shirts, barely taking in any of them, my eyes set on the tills. My heart hammers-every time I come in here it beats unhealthily fast, like it knows something might happen. I've been in four times this week, four times. I should be classified as a stalker by now. I twitch slightly; my hands rolling into fists as I force myself to stop cracking my knuckles. I can't stop biting my lip and not in the sexy way, in the I-really-don't-know-what-to-do way. I start to bring my jumper sleeve down over my hands which I usually hate doing, but here I am stalking a guy younger than me so who really cares?
I see a shirt I half like-plain and basic just like me. I clutch at the hanger and propel myself forward. I can't believe what I'm doing. I know for a fact I'm going to mess this up. There's a small queue and I see his eyes flicker towards it as he sighs. I sigh too. Oh god what even am I? I see a petite girl walk over to a till and ask for the next shopper. My eyes bulge. I have in NO WAY done all of this to be served by her. I pray that the guy she's with has 'a moment' -you know, one of those where you can't really move?
I mess my hair up a bit more,it's worth a try. Hopefully my hair will look artfully messy and not just plain stupid. I've tried extra hard today, I have my best and skinniest jeans and a t-shirt on, both black because that's all I ever see him wear.
On my god. It'stimeit'stimeit'stime. I awkwardly walk over and try to etch a bemused and crooked grin on my face to seem aloof. The guy, I don't even know his name but I quite like to call him dreamy eyes because I'm cheesy, smiles at me as he scans the barcode. His eyebrows are slightly raised and I can see his hand trembling. Do I have this affect on people? I suppose I am tall.
'Are you having a nice day, sir?' He says, literally forcing a real grin on his face as he says so. I laugh, a genuine laugh because he called me sir, in Urban Outfitters. He blushes and looks down and I instantly feel cruel.
'Sorry d-, I begin and panic as I nearly say dreamy eyes which would not of ended well, erm yeah it's alright. It's Manchester though, always rainy!' I say chuckling and dipping my head slightly to try and rearrange my brain pieces so I don't sound like such an idiot next time. The guy looks up at me and I see he has a splattering of freckles on his face.
'Oh I've not lived here long, I like it really. It's nice to live near the centre.'
' I live near the centre too! I'm at Manchester Uni at the moment but my family live on the outskirts.' I smile, the conversations flowing pretty smoothly.
'Whereabouts do you live? Maybe we live near each other, I'm sure I've seen you before.' He says, and just as I'm about to utter those beautiful words of where I live and see if he lives near, his colleague screams(seriously)
'DAN GET BACK TO WORK AND STOP CHATTING UP EVERY CUSTOMER IN HERE, GOD'. Some people gasp and start to whisper. I grab my bag and I can tell my cheeks are hot enough to fry an egg. I can barely look at him, but when I do he looks crushed. His face looks how I feel. He looks at me warily and starts to say something. Instead of hanging around, I stalk off, hurt that he obviously didn't like me all that much and embarrassed I ever thought he would have. I walk out into the rain, stomping slightly as I go, the rain beating down on my hair and dripping onto my clothes. Shoppers walk into me, most looking as melancholy as I feel. I start to walk faster, my thin frame making it easier for me to move around people and get past. At one point towards the end of the walk, I can't tell if it's rain or tears on my face.