A Rose to Change a Life

Chapter 3

Orange downfall

The thought of going back equally terrified and excited me. I think I was still smiling like an idiot, I surely was one in the metaphorical sense, but I couldn't seem to calm down. It was utterly rare that I wanted to get to know a person more after just one glance, leaving me eager for more. I know, he is not a sandwich of which I can take bite after bite like a raging wolf, but his humour and oh, his smile, had the same effect on me. I didn't catch that Elise was talking to me, so I snapped out of it and started to listen to her words:

".....surprisingly. Total coincidence, do you think it was fate? Oh wait, you should go back..." Fate? What was wrong with her? She was not the typical I-believe-in-mojo- lady, that was new.
"Elise, ähm we met for the first time right now. He is simply some random guy, who I've forgotten about after I stepped out of the market" – definitely not – ", I'll never see him again so calm down."

I knew I was lying to myself and my friend, – sensible as she was – she seemed to sense that because suddenly her eyes bulged out of her head like those of a deer in front of headlights.

"Whoa whoa, young lady. No. You will not do this to you. Oh my god, you think just because I'm eighty and your supervisor, I wouldn't allow you to see him? Are you afraid of me? I'm not the one you are going to hold responsible for this, girl. I'm not. So get your friggin' ass in there and ask for his number."

It's possible that during her speech, my mouth had fallen open and I had to close it with a snap. Elise rarely used swear words, she was a friendly nature and if she did, then they would sound like a joke. One time she called me 'piddlepuff' instead of idiot, or screamed 'Ice-cream' as equivalent to shit. It could be really funny sometimes, every time she would do that, I'd simply laugh. Of course, I would laugh with her and not at her. Riiiight. She grabbed my hands, pulled the food forcefully out of them – Geez, she was strong – patted me on the back and gave me a rough shove. Naturally, I staggered a bit, but grabbed the shopping cart in the process. I couldn't believe that she simply leaned back against her car – it was a cute blue Nissan Micra 1990 – and crossed her arms over her ample chest which spotted 'Go get them' in orange bold letters. I snorted. Figures, how ironic. How could she be so cool with it?  

I made my way back to the market to return the caddy, while simultaneously trying to figure out what to do. I optioned for spontaneity, that was my biggest feature. That and my bluntness. So why was it such a big deal then? Weird. After I took the coin out of the slot, I made my way to the cash. He was still sitting there – Where should he have gone, you idiot – smiling at the people and doing his routine job. I figured a pick-up line was a total no-go, I hated them myself not that I would hear them all too often, but which guy wanted to be picked up with "Are you from Tennessee? Cause you are the only Ten I see." or "I lost my phone number, could I have yours?" or the classic one "Could you give me a map? Cause I'm lost in your eyes" True, the second and the third one had part of what I wanted in them, but still.... No way, would I do that.

 People were still milling around, packing their things in bags, looking the other direction. Not many shoppers were standing at line at his spot so I chose to stride towards him. If I wanted, I could be quite an imposing person: my hair was unnaturally short for a girls', it was like a long pixie cut, but it vibrated a brilliant white-blond. In contrast, my eyes were almost black – which turned into my favour every time I wanted to rock bold eyes – my face wasn't round nor angular, but my body, yeah. My body was nothing if not attention demanding, I had curves like I was a mixture of Mariah Carey, Beyonce and JLo's backside. I didn't hide them, nor did I put them on display. What did I care what others thought about me? Sadly, not even my figure or my wit could have saved me from what came next.

While I took my time walking, hoping to appear casual, a mother and a child turned around in front of me and while doing so, the kid who, until then had held a juice carton in his hand, dropped it, letting the juice spill on the floor. I knew my eyes went wide when I lifted my foot, set it down again and slipped. 

Jup. 

I didn't even have time to process what happened when I was already lying on the floor, eyes staring at the ceiling and my butt drenched in orange juice. I didn't get up immediately, even thought the woman stormed to my aid, instead I decided to lay there wallowing in my embarrassment for two minutes longer.  

Head on

I got up with the help of the kid's hands – his mother forced him to do so – and shook myself. I didn't know why, but even despite the fact that my face looked like a squelched tomato, I couldn't stop the laughter bubbling in my throat. It soon turned into a burst of laughter, which intensified to the level where I had to hold my hurting belly. Apparently, they didn't expect that reaction, they surely wanted me to be a whining bitch who wailed and got out as fast as she could – yeah, not gonna happen. Dumbfounded they stared at me, like I had grown three tails and green skin all of a sudden, which I did not – only if you counted the sticky orange juice that soaked my bottom as something 'from the other dimension.'

I chose to ignore all of them, thanked the little kid who helped me up, and waltzed to the nameless Rosecashier. Hm. I liked that nickname. Seemingly, he wasn't affected much by my little stunt either – I could spot a grin on his face, which totally lit up his eyes. I decided to put up a show for the sake of the shoppers, ultimately they paid for being here. Theoretically anyway. My hands came to rest on the top of his booth, my ankles were crossed and I was leaning against it, at the same time putting on my c heeky grin getting my self-confidence in check. Well, duh, now or never...  

"Hey, Rosecashier. I was thinking, now that you have seen me in action and stared at my ass during it, we could exchange our names and numbers, so I can put up this freak show anytime you want." Wait, did I really just say that? Fuck. 

Of course, I tuned up my voice on purpose – so as to gather the reaction, and oh boy did I gather one! The old woman standing in line looked at me with eyes big as saucers, her hand clamped over her mouth, while her -presumably- husband licked his lips and watched my boobs. Pervert. The boy simply chuckled and watched me with glittering eyes, apparently he sensed what I was up to and decided to play along. For this purpose, he looked me up and down slowly, which let a chill spread through my limbs. His gaze only stopping barely at my waist until they fixed upon my eyes.

"Sure, Miss Orange Juice – where shall we go, mine or your place?" 

He leaned closer, his breath touched my face and his eyes fixated on my mouth. "But next time when you choose to sit in an orange juice puddle, let ME take those jeans off you, okay ?" 

Ha he was fun! Now the lady audibly gasped and I imagined her husband having a boner, ugh. I smiled, keeping myself in check. Otherwise, I would have burst into laughter. 

"If you are sure that you can manage me, what-s-your-name" His lips twitched as he reached behind him, grabbed a pencil and a paper and wrote something down.

I thought he needed forever to write, but after a few seconds he looked up. "Rosecashier, huh? You can call me that. For now." He winked at me, giving me his paper and daring me to say something. I complied.
"You wanna be a mystery? Oh, I can do that, Rosecashier. I can give you mystery –" I stopped, hoping my eyes turned into smoldering pits to draw him in. No such luck.
With these words, I turned on my heels, leaving a slightly-redfaced guy, many astonished woman and an old pervert with a boner in my waking.
Damn, I still rocked bluntness and stupidity.