Something to Dream About {Slow Updates}

Four

♪ Malachi ♪

My trigonometry homework was neatly set up on the front counter, which I used as my desk.

My sisters took up the majority of my afternoon since my parents hardly paid them any attention, so I made sure to do my homework during the slow parts of my shifts.

I hated Trig. I hated every subject for that matter. Except English and music. Those were fun. But I really did have a deep disdain for math.

The bell above the door rang, but I didn't look up. I typically waited for people to come to me.

The customer's footsteps headed to the far right side of the store. I was sure they were looking in the guitar section.

My attention was undeterred until I finished the question I was on.

And then I glanced up briefly, my eyes only taking in blonde hair before looking down again.

My eyes shot back up.

It was Layla.

Layla DuPont was standing in the same music store that I worked at.

What was my life?

I couldn't help but stare at the back of her head as she lifted her fingers to lightly touch a blue electric guitar that was hanging on the wall. She dropped her delicate hand before spinning around.

My gaze shot down to the papers on the counter.

Triangles and numbers and stuff.

Not the girl a few feet away.

Not the girl who was now walking towards me.

She stopped just in front of the counter that I was leaning on. After swallowing, I looked at her.

She had a small smile on her face. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I hope this doesn't seem too creepy," she said. "I didn't know you'd be here."

I shook my head. "No— No. It's not creepy. At all." Even if it was in a creepy way, I would've been flattered.

She grimaced, scratching the back of the head as she looked away.

"Is there something I can help with?" I asked casually, like my heart wasn't raging a storm in my chest.

Her eyes flickered back to mine. "Yes, actually," she replied. "Do you guys offer music lessons?"

I shook my head. "No, we don't."

She let out a disappointed sigh and I mentally kicked myself—as if I had control over this place. "Okay," she said, looking down again. "Well, thanks any—"

"We could."

She looked up at me with wide eyes. Ah, shit.

"I could...give you lessons?" Could I? I wasn't a teacher.

Well, actually, I'd be anything for her.

"You could?" she asked, a questioning look mixed with an excited expression.

I nodded. "Um, yeah. Y'know...that way you don't have to do it with a stranger."

Please work.

"Are you sure?" There was a crinkle between her brow. She looked almost a little concerned. "You don't have to."

But I want to. Badly. "I'm sure."

"Okay, perfect," she said, pulling a pen and a planner out of her bag before setting them on the higher part of the counter. She flipped through it before getting to a monthly view. Her events were neatly organized and color-coded. "Um, how does Friday sound?" She clicked her pen, looking up at me.

How could someone's eyes be so beautiful?

"Sounds perfect," I said, even though I didn't really process her words.

"Okay," she muttered, writing it down. "Friday, the 22nd. Here? Or...?"

"Yeah, sure. Here."

"At what time?"

"Um, four? Not very busy then."

She nodded, putting everything back in the bag once she was done writing. "Um, I'll research prices and stuff, unless you already have an idea of how much you want to be paid?"

"You don't have to pay me."

She lifted an eyebrow before shaking her head with a smile. "Silly boy," she said. "Of course I'm paying you."

Silly boy.

My pulse grew quick.

What was wrong with me?

She called me silly boy and my heart skipped a beat? I considered the idea that I needed professional help.

Well, that's what Ezra was for. He was an aspiring therapist, and he'd talked me down from my mania surrounding Layla plenty of times before.

"Well, thank you," she said, taking a step back. "I'll meet you here."

I nodded curtly.

There was still a smile on my face far after she left.