𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 | 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

7| Seven.

7 | Seven.

| 3rd POV |

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"Alright," Madeline sighed, walking up to Sage. "I have to get going, dad wants me home."

"Thats fine. You're probably saving me, actually. I think if I spend too much more time in here, I'll spend way more money than necessary." Sage stood up from her position on the floor, holding eleven new books in her hands.

"Oh my god, that's a lot of pages," Madeline mumbled, looking at the books.

Six of them were a least over a thousand pages, the others probably around six or seven hundred.

"Indeed." Sage nodded. "Some of them are for school," she defended.

"And the others?" Madeline grinned, grabbing her bag. The girl shrugged, smiling. "I need entertainment."

She snorted, shaking her head as her hair fell into her face. "Whatever you say, Sage, whatever you say."

"I'll see you later," she smiled. "Bye!" Sage called out, holding her books to her chest.

As her friend walked out of the store, Sage made her way to the counter, setting down all her book carefully.

"Holy crap, Sage." The owner, Andrew, laughed, beginning to check the prices.

"You're telling me," she mumbled, wiping invisible sweat off her forehead.

"Fifty dollars total," the man smiled at her, handing her a bookmark. He always gave her one every time she came in. She was without a doubt his best customer, plus she often helped out with stocking the shelves, and occasionally checking people out whenever she had free time.

"Fifty? I got eleven books, each of them cost seven dollars. That's seventy seven, Andrew, not fifty. I think you need a new calculator." She teased, pulling out her money.

"Oh please," he scoffed, declining the extra money she tried to give him. "You come in here basically every day, buy more than anyone else, help me out for free, you're my best customer!"

She huffed, "fine." She gave him his fifty dollars, instead, stuffing the extra twenty seven in the tip jar she made him in 6th grade.

"Ha," she grinned, grabbing all of her books.

Andrew sighed, shaking his head. Crazy kid, he thought.

Slowly, and very carefully, Sage made her way to the door. Thankfully, a young girl, probably around six, opened the door for her, giving Sage a smile.

Too preoccupied with not letting any books fall, Sage didn't seem to notice someone in front of her. Unfortunately for her, neither did he.

"Oh my god—I'm so sorry. That was totally my fault," she stumbled, trying to catch her balance again.

She felt hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

"That was a complete accident, I promise. But in my defense, these books weigh like over thirty pounds total—not that that's an excuse of course, because I mean I totally should have been watching where I was going, that's completely on me—" she rambled.

"Hey, take a breath, it's okay." Her eyes snapped up, meeting familiar hazel ones.

Jess.

"Oh, hi. Again. Or—no, not again—"

He raised an eyebrow, simply watching her.

"Sorry, I don't know why I'm stuttering so much, I usually don't. In fact, I'm practically an expert at talking, especially fast, I'm really good at that. And ranting! Like I'm doing now. Crap, I really need to stop talking. And bumping into random boys on the street. And not watching where I'm going. And carrying way to many books at once. And—"

She seemed to realize what she was doing, because she quickly shut herself up. "I'm gonna stop talking now."

"That might be best," he nodded along with her, smiling at her sheepish look.

"Do you want some help with those?" He asked, nodding to the books stacked on her trembling arms. "Really?"

"Why not," Jess shrugged, "I've got nothing better to do. Plus, you're cute when your squirmish."

He took the top seven books from her, immediately relieving her arms.

She took a deep breath, nearly collapsing onto him. "You are my savior," she readjusted the books in her hands, much more comfortable now.

"Wouldn't I be your Prince Charming?" He teased.

Sage raised her hand, smacking his shoulder. His wet shoulder.

She turned her head to him as they began to walk. "Why is—"

"Watch out," he had one hand to holding the books, the other swept out to her waist. He pulled her closer to him, just barley stopping her from running into a pole.

"Oh," she said, looking back. "That would've been bad."

"Yes, it would've," he said, his hand lingering on her for a moment, before moving back to the books.

"Thank you," she said, the heat of his hand on her body still very apparent.

"But anyway, why is your shirt wet?" She turned her head to him, but he quickly grabbed her chin, turning it back forwards.

She quickly realized why when she almost tripped on a basket.

"Thank you, again," she sighed.

"No problem." He said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Well?" She prodded, impatient. "Well what?" He was completely clueless.

"Well, why is your shirt wet?"

"It's not wet."

"Oh, my bad, why is your shirt damp?" She rolled her eyes as they crossed the street.

"I robbed a bank," Jess said, simply.

"Okay?" Sage expected him to continue, but groaned when he stayed silent. "Commiting bank robbery doesn't explain damp clothing."

"I fell," he said.

"Into?"

"Oh come on! Tell me. This is worse than torture," she nudged his shoulder with hers.

"I'm not so sure about that," he tisked, earning another nudge.

"Tell me. Now." She continued to push her body into his, each time getting a little harder. "Please?"

He looked down at her, immediately regreting it when he met her eyes.

In that moment, Jess deemed it philosophically impossible to tell Sage Gilmore no when looking into her eyes.

He huffed out a breath, muttering, "I fell into the lake."

She burst out laughing, nearly running into someone else before Jess pulled her away.

"Next time, I'm letting you get ran into."

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