Hipster Hearts (ON HOLD)

Hipster Hearts

Square Books in Oxford Mississippi is the best place in the world.  The coffee is superb, the music is perfect, and the memories made are always good.  It was on a Tuesday afternoon after my morning classes that I experienced one of the best memories I have.

I was already in a good mood that day because I landed a job in that store itself as a clerk for book sales.  My room mate was on my back about paying my half of the rent and I hadn’t done it in over a month.  That job was just the thing I needed, not to mention just the thing I wanted.  

I’m not really that much of a people person.  My philosophy is if you don’t talk to me first, I won’t talk to you at all.  You could call me shy, an introvert, or rude, but honestly, I couldn’t care the slightest about anyone unless they showed that they wanted to care about me.  But if you were to actually talk to me, I’m actually a pretty nice person.  I made all A’s throughout high school and I was a rotary scholar.  I’ve never had more than two close friends at a time, and they always last a long time.  I have green-brown eyes and long, curly, dark (almost black) brown hair  I don’t listen to the top hits of America. I could care less who Justin Bieber was dating, or whether Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt were getting married.  I hate shopping, and I love a good book.  I’m always alone but I’m never lonely.  I like being by myself.  It’s peaceful, and I like peacefulness.

I was waiting in line just after my morning classes and work shift were over.  My plan for the rest of the day was to go home with my coffee and read a book.  There were about three people in line ahead of me.  I glanced at the person directly in front of me.  He had to be about 20 years old.  His hair was that messy style everyone seems to be wearing nowadays.  He had on a light blue polo and his chin was clean-shaven.  I could see it then, he was a jock, maybe a dancer; he’s never had a long-term girlfriend and he’s living off of his parent’s money.  He’s going to Ole Miss because his dad played football here and he wants to follow his footsteps.  Or maybe his mom wanted to see him go to anything but a community college.   He was a jerk to most people unless he thought they were popular material.  

Now don’t judge me because I’m judging him.  I’d had plenty of experience before then.  And it’s much better to judge someone in your head than to judge them out loud for fun like most people do.  

He sniffed a little, as if he could sense me staring at him.  Ugh, that was annoying.  His phone lit up and he looked at the glowing screen.  It read, “Megan” with a 

little red heart next to it.  He shook his head and pressed the decline button and put his phone back in his pocket.  A few seconds later his phone buzzed again and he pulled his phone out.  That time the screen read, “Rachel” and he picked it up.

“Hey, babe.” he said with an air of arrogance.

There was some mumbled response coming out of the receiver and he started to shake his head, “What, why are you at Megan’s place?  I thought you were staying back in Jackson for the week.”

The mumbling grew louder and he shook his head again in disbelief.  He walked out of the store quickly, still holding his phone up to his ear.

I couldn’t help but smirk after I heard the little bell on the door cling as he opened and closed it.

“Serves him right,” I heard a voice say behind me.  It sounded kind of deep, but with more smoothness behind it than most.

I turned to see who the mysterious man with the smooth voice was, and I came face to face with a 20 looking guy.  He had on those hipster glasses and a flannel.  

“I know, right?” I said to him, still smirking.

He smiled and held his hand out, “I’m Finn.”