Welcome to Seaside

[2]

There were a couple of perks about working at the bookshop.

First and foremost was the air conditioning. The cottage, in all it's greatness, had experienced a loss in centralized air around 3 am. By four, it was excruciatingly hot inside. Alec had escaped to the porch, falling asleep in a chair. Even then it was still sweltering. The repairman had been called but he couldn't arrive for another couple of hours, so any excuse to get to a place with A/C had to be used.

Then there was the atmosphere in general. It wasn't rushed and hurried like the gelato shop next door. It smelled amazing considering the number of sweaty tourists that came through the doors. Then there were the books that Alec's nerdy side enjoyed.

And Kate, the woman who ran the bookshop, was an all-around good person. She called Alec later that same night and asked him to be at the shop at 8 am, an hour before they opened.

The next hour was a whirlwind of information and procedures. Alec wanted to take notes-- maybe that was just the student in him.

Then Kate stuck him at the cash register, unlocked the doors, and left him to fend for himself.

The morning started off slow, people milling around. Alec awkwardly watched each of them enter, poke around, open a book or two, then leave.

He made his first sale to an elderly woman a little before eleven.

It rapidly picked up then though, as visitors came off the beaches to avoid the sun in search of food and cold air.

At one, Kate emerged from the office and sent Alec on lunch.

This part he wasn't sure about. What was lunch? Where could he go? When did he have to be back?

He asked the question but never managed to speak them out loud. He slipped out the back door, unlocking his bike from the bike rack.

He looked up as someone was descending the outside stairs that led to the second story, which was actually a record store called "The Needle."

Alec watched as a flame leaped out of a lighter, lighting a cigarette. It was a disgusting habit and a horrible first impression on Alec. He didn't seem like the smoking type at all, outside of the bright blue hair. He was wearing clothes he was more likely to see on the aspiring fashion designer kids at school rather than the druggies.

Rather than watch the smoker, Alec pulled out his phone.

Alec: I'm on break. Where are you?

Jace: Break but busy...

Busy meant he found a girl and Alec was on his own.

The man (which was really an overstatement; he couldn't have been older than Alec) finally caught a glimpse of Alec.

He immediately laughed, confusing Alec.

Was it the way he looked? Was it the way he stood? Was it his bike?

The guy shook his head one last time and Alec rode away on his bike before he could start chuckling again.

...........

Work continued uneventfully for a week. Alec started at 8:30 and was home by 5:30 for family dinner and relaxation on the beach.

It wasn't the ideal summer vacation; that would be never leaving his room, with the exception of the beach. But Kate was paying him far more than he deserved and even snuck a book or two in his backpack every once in awhile.

He got to know the regulars: vacationers who needed their next steamy summer romance novel for the poolside and old, retired men who wanted to reread their war experience in history novels.

Alec managed to venture up to The Needle once, just to look around but the smoker wasn't there.

He was, however, on the back steps after work on a Saturday. Thunder and lightning were crackling overhead and no one was outside if they could help it.

The smoker sat on the second lowest step, head in his hands. He wore black today, as if he were in morning.

Alec tried to sneak by, avoiding both confrontation and the inherent danger of strangers. But his bike crunched on the gravelly road.

The smoker looked up.

The light that had been his eyes on Alec's first day was gone. He looked like a wreck. This was a level beyond "having a bad day." It was more like he hadn't sleep in days or--

"You again," he growled, not in an unfriendly way, more tired.

Alec was silent. He couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Bad things happen in alleys like this one, even in quaint little towns like this.

"Stop looking at me. I look like hell and I know it," he grumbled.

"You don't really," Alec said, trying to appease him. The stranger raised a eyebrow. Really? it seemed to ask.

"Yes, I do," he sighed. "My mother-- well, I suppose it was Harold--" he snarled the word, "--discovered my cigarettes."

So he was Alec's age. . .

"And since that was my last pack, my addiction has ended early."

"Why are you telling me this?" Alec asked.

"Aren't we friends? Don't friends tell each other everything?"

"I don't even know your name-- No!" Alec said, a little too loudly.

"Magnus Bane," he said, rushing through the words like they-- his very own name-- was an inconvenience.

"We have nothing in common," Alec said.

"We're both trapped in this sunbeam of a town and we both work in this shack." He pointed to the building.

"You work at The Needle?"

Magnus nodded. Then his head fell back into his hands.

"It's about to storm," Alec said.

"Mm."

"You should get home," Alec said.

"I'd rather face the rain."

"I wouldn't," Alec said, softly. "It was nice meeting you then."

"Mm."

Alec didn't know what to say so he rode away.