Perks of the Job

Chapter Eight

A few days passed before I saw Nick again, but when I did, I fulfilled my promise to him, despite how 'desperate' it was. I'd remembered to bring my list of bands and music along with me to work before I left my house, just in case I saw Nick, which I did.

When I'd first come in, I'd barely seen him considering I was, once again, stuck by myself in the fitting room. I was starting not to mind it as much; barely anyone ever came and I found the tagging to be quite relaxing, so being in the fitting room was actually turning out to be kind of nice.

The only downside to being in the fitting room all night was that I didn't get to talk to anyone, and by anyone, I meant Nick.

Even though he could be a little hard to talk to sometimes and that 'desperate' comment was still getting to me, I still looked forward to seeing and talking to Nick. Maybe I just liked to look at him.

Lucky for me the fitting room was slow and there was nothing to tag, so I didn't really have any responsibility that night, the only downside: I was bored as fuck.

When my break came, I gratefully took the chance to just sit down and relax for a while, even if it was only for fifteen minutes. I turned off my radio and headed to the back to take my break. I punched my time and took of my lanyard that had my nametag attached to it.

I'd brought some left over vegetable lasagna for dinner that night considering I was working the later shift and it'd be too late to eat once I'd get home. I pulled it out of the fridge and sat down to eat without bothering to heat it up. With my earphones plugged into my iPod and music playing through them, I sat and ate my dinner.

About halfway through, the door beeped to indicate that someone was coming in. Since my radio was off, I hadn't heard anyone get called to their break and I didn't know who it was, but I wasn't shocked to see Nick walk in. "Hey," he said casually as he punched out for his break.

"Oh," I said almost immediately, not even bothering to offer him a proper greeting. "I have something for you." Abandoning my lasagna and iPod which was still playing a song, I walked over to Nick as I pulled out the folded index card from my pocket. I handed it over to him and he let out a chuckle, "Sweet, you actually wrote it."

I smiled at this, pleased to see that he'd accepted it and confident in the fact that I had some pretty good shit on there. "Let's see," he said as he walked over to the table and sat down in the chair next to the one I was previously sat at. I returned to my seat and my lasagna but decided, for the time being, to turn off my iPod.

"Misfits, Black Flag, Of Mice and Men," he began to read off the names of the bands I'd written, occasionally offering commentary like, "Oh, they're good,' or, "I've never heard of them."

"What do you think?" I asked as he finished reading the list and I finished eating my lasagna.

"This is amazing," he said, the list still out for him to read, but his eyes moving to meet mine. It was the first time I'd ever been this close to him unless you counted our hands touching when we'd first officially met. He looked right into my eyes with his big blue ones. God, they were perfect, and so was he.

"Glad you like it," I said back to him, my eyes not wavering from staring into his. I wasn't generally one for direct eye contact but he was an exception. I didn't feel uncomfortable around Nick anymore, in fact, within the recent weeks, I found he was one of the people I knew that I was most comfortable with. I liked the fact that I could really be myself around Nick and I liked even more the fact that he seemed to like it too.

"Yeah I do," he said in a notably softer tone. I wouldn't go so far as to say that this moment was romantic considering Nick and I weren't dating and it was taking place in the stuffy back room, but for now, that the most accurate word I could come up with.

His eyes bore deeply into mine and I was practically put in a trance; so deep that I barely realized what time it was. "Uh, I," I started off, fighting to find my words once again. I thought I was over this. "My time's up, I should head back."

Nick leaned back in his chair making it obvious at this point that he'd previously been leaning forward, but I'd just been too caught up in him to notice.

He smiled at me again before returning his gaze back down to the list that was still held in his hand. He read it over again and smiled to himself, the fact that he really got a kick out of it evident. He seemed to really be captivated by my small gesture; either that or he was faking until I left.

I closed up my now empty lasagna container and put it away into my locker after punching in my time. I said bye to Nick before leaving the break room and heading back to cover the fitting room again.

My time spent in the fitting room wasn't as boring as it usually was. Delia came by often to pick up clothes and, since I'd started working, we'd become rather friendly. It was generally easy to make conversation with her and, though it was usually far from captivating, it did a wonderful job at passing the time.

It had been a few minutes since I'd seen Delia when she came back to pick up some more clothes. We busied ourselves with sorting through the racks and I had barely noticed when Nick came by. It's not like I was exactly expecting him to come considering he wasn't really supposed to be over by me.

"Hey Evan?" I heard him speak, causing me to turn around rather ungracefully. "Nick," I said in a surprised tone, accurately expressing my inner emotions. Delia either didn't notice or didn't want to get involved.

"Hey, uhm," he faltered as he began his sentence, him being the one forgetting how to speak for a change. He leaned against the wall, trying to look cool but obviously feeling a little nervous. It seemed almost as if he was trying to flirt. "I just wanted to say thanks for writing me that list. It was really cool and I appreciate you taking the time to write it out for me."

I couldn't help but feel a little good about myself and smile as a result of this. I continued to help Delia sort through the clothes, though my mind and my eyes were obviously elsewhere. "Oh, it was no problem," I answered as coolly as I could without sounding like I didn't care at all. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Yeah, it was so good. There are some amazing bands on there, so I just wanted to tell you how cool it was."

"Well, thanks, I try," I joked to relieve some of the awkwardness that had built up.

"Okay, well," he started, his eyes avoiding mine shyly and his smile growing wider. "I'm gonna go back out now before I get in trouble. Uh, see you."

"Bye, Nick," I called out as he walked away, turning back once before continuing off to get back to work. I just stood there as he left, looking off to where he'd disappeared, smiling to myself as I held onto a sweater. I felt it being taken from my hands and I looked up to see Delia placing it on a hanger, looking at me with a knowing expression on her face. She smiled once and continued on sorting the clothes. "What?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, though it was clear that there was a little more than 'nothing' on her mind right now. "Delia," I started, a pleading tone taking over my voice. "Tell me."

"That boy," she said, pointing off in the direction Nick had just walked in. "He likes you." I just stood there frozen, not able to move a muscle. Why would she think that? Nick didn't like me, I liked him. It somehow worried me that she saw something going on between us, and what made it scarier was that I hadn't even realized that yet. "What? No," I protested. "Nick doesn't like me."

Delia didn't respond, choosing instead to give me another doubtful look before pushing out the rack and walking across the sales floor, leaving me to my thoughts.

And let me tell you; sometimes, I hated my own mind.