to the moon. /m.c./

n i n e

 I sat in bed watching my twelfth episode of Breaking Bad when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Michael.

'Stopped by your bookstore and you weren't there...your shift is from 10-6, right?'

I didn't respond, and just turned my attention back to the computer. Within minutes, my phone buzzed again.

'I can see when you read my texts, Josie.'

I groaned and typed back a quick response to him. 'Sorry.'

Michael obviously didn't get that I didn't want to be bothered by him, and so he kept texting me. 'Why were you ignoring me, Josie? Did I say something wrong yesterday?'

I laughed. He wasn't wrong. 'It's nothing.'

'Josie, come on. Tell me what I did.'

I shut my phone off and closed my eyes, not wanting to deal with his friendliness at the moment. After all, Walter White and Jesse Pinkman were on my screen.

After another four episodes and a bag of chips, I was exhausted. I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, I put my glasses on, threw my hair up into a bun and put on some sweatpants, trudging into work fifteen minutes late. My uniform and nametag were a pain to put on, but I did nonetheless, accidentally stabbing myself while pinning the nametag to my shirt.

I walked around the aisles slowly, a mug of coffee in my hand, and then bumped into an unfamiliar man.

"Ah! I'm so sorry, sir."

The man just giggled, running a hand through his hair. "It's fine, Josie."

I frowned. "How do you know my name?"

With a smirk, he responded, "You're wearing a nametag, love."

I nodded. "Right. Sorry. I'm a little out of it today. How may I help you, Mr...?"

"Irwin. Ashton Irwin. Alright, so I have a friend, and it's his birthday soon. He loves reading, and I'd love it if you'd help me pick out a book for him?" He smirked. "And then maybe you'd like to see a movie sometime?"

My cheeks reddened. "Sure...and yes to the movie. What's your friend's name?"

Ashton smiled. "Michael."