"Hey Ellen." I said as I made my way into my favorite place ever. Borders bookstore.
Many of you are groaning because what kind of teenage girl hangs out in the bookstore? Well, this one does.
I have been coming here since I was 6. When I was little I was always so fascinated by books. Their ability to draw a person in with a single word, or that they could create entire worlds in your mind. They were just amazing to me. So, one day, I asked my dad that if instead of going to my babysitters house. I was 8 so of course my dad said no, but my babysitter only lived a five minute walk to the two-story Borders. So, being the courageous girl I was, I walked there. Without my babysitter knowing. She wasn't happy when she found me an hour later. I mean I would be too if I was in her shoes, she lost an 8 year old in New York City! Anyone would be worried.
But I made her promise she would take me there every day from that point on, if I didn't tell my dad she lost me.
Here I am, ten years later, still going to the same bookstore. But now my babysitter wasn't taking me there.
"Hello sweetie" Ellen, the sweetest old lady the could ever work a cash register, said as I went towards the stairs. Ellen has been working here since before I could remember. As I made my way towards the stairs I took out my copy of The Forsaken by Lisa Stasse and my IPod with headphones out of my black messenger bag.
I smiled to myself when I saw the shelves of books and benches, couches, and chairs scattered everywhere. Whenever I was here late me, Ellen, and Tommy, he's a cashier too in his late 30's, rearranged the furniture so people would have a different layout every time they came back.
I could smell the coffee brewing from the coffee shop that was situated downstairs.
I sat down sideways on a small plush chair in the corner, pulled my long, dark brown, wavy hair into a high pony and put in my headphones, beginning to read.
*Later*
"Excuse me" a voice spoke from beside me. Was that a guys voice? Well it couldn't have been a girls, it was high enough. It could have been, like that one girl in heath class.....
"One second" I responded putting up my pointer finger. I pulled my zebra bookmark out from the back of my book and stuck it in between the pages, also taking out my headphones.
"Okay, what do you need?" I asked facing the stranger. Yup, definitely a guy he looks the same age as me, I wonder if he went to my school.... As soon as I laid eyes on him I realized he didn't have a book. Weird, we're in a bookstore and he doesn't have a book... He has black short hair and he looked half a foot taller than me. Curse my height. I could't see his eyes because they were covered by Ray Bans, fancy.
"Uh, a lady downstairs told me to tell you that it was 5 o'clock." he said motioning an arm towards where Ellen was currently sitting behind a counter.
"Shit" I cursed throwing my belongings in my bag. "I'm late"
I started to get up.
"Late? Late for what?" the stranger asked putting a hand in front of my small frame.
"Nothing, I just have to get home, and as of now I'm late. Can you please move I have a train to catch."
As I started walking down the stairs he spoke up again.
"Wait! What's your name?" the stranger said catching up with me.
"Why would I tell you my name? I don't even know you."
"Okay, fair enough. My names Blake Shields, I'm 18 and a senior, I live In New York City and I love to read. There now you know me."
"Fine, my names Riley Rikes, I'm also a senior at 18, and i to live in New York City."
"Really? You live here? I never would have guessed!" Blake said sarcasm heavy in his voice, adding a light laugh.
"Yeah, I do. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get home." I said smiling.
"Why of course, Miss. Rikes." Blake said opening the door to the large store using a horrible british accent. Huh I hadn't even noticed we had gotten down here.
"Why thank you, Mr. Shields!" I laughed pulling an accent too and walking out the door. Leaving the safety of the bookstore and stepping into reality.
*A train ride and a short walk later*
As I strode into my apartment building I said hello to Sam, the doorman, and Rudy, the sort of office guy. I can never figure out the name of his job.
I hopped on the elevator and pressed the number 15, my floor. I silently hoped that Cindy, my dad's new wife wasn't there. My parents got divorced when I turned 14 and my dad got married a year and a half later. Since my dad was some big shot lawyer he of course won the custody of me and I haven't seen my mom since. That's exactly why my mom divorced him in the first place. Because he was a lawyer and was always doing something other than being with his family. He was never home and when he was it was only for a short while.
The elevator dinged and opened it's doors. As you would expect I lived in the penthouse, my dad loved to show off how much money he had. I hated it, so much.
"RILEY! You're late!"
No. Please no. Let that be my imagination. I closed my eyes and stepped out of the elevator and walked into the living room.
"Yeah Cindy, it's me." I spoke walking in the direction of my bedroom.
"How many times have I told you! It's not Cindy to you, it's mom." Cindy spoke walking towards me. i could here her high heels clicking on the wooden floors.
"But your not my mother." I said walking in and closing my door.
I kicked off my red converse and peeled my navy blue sweatshirt off of my body.
As I set my bag down on my unmade bed Cindy invited herself into my room.
"You are late young lady, I told you to be home by 5:30m it's 5:45."
I sighed, "I know what time it is, I just lost track of time."
She scoffed, I refused to turn and look at her bleach blonde hair and fake nose, "That's always your excuse. Maybe I need to send someone with you to remind you of the time, like your brother"
"I don't have a brother" I said my voice shaking.
That's not true though, I did have a brother at one point in time. His name was Stanley and I loved him more than anything, even if he was my older brother. Stanley was two years older than me which would make him 20 if he was still alive now.
As a kid Stanley had a tumor in his brain, over the years the doctors would remove it little by little. But they could never fully get rid of it. He was only 17 when he died, making me 15 when I lost my brother. Only a year after my parents got divorced. But she's talking about her douche bag son, he's 18 like me but is spoiled just like his mother.
"Yes you do, and don't make me call your dad and tell him that you are having an attitude problem. I will make sure you can't go back to that library if you keep this up" She put her hand on her hip and waltzed out of my room, slamming the door.
I sigh and fell back onto my bed, "Do it, see if he cares"
************************************************************************************************************************
I hope you like my story!
Please leave me some feedback.
Stay beautiful,
~IWontFadeAway <3
