This is a Bookstore, Not a Library

It's not that Evie hadn't noticed her. Really, it was quite difficult for anyone to overlook the bright purple hair. Or the big, striking, green eyes. Not to mention the fact that every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday the girl's leather-clad body would be sprawled out across the already narrow aisle of science related books. It's just that, even though she had worked at the bookstore for quite a few months now, she felt as though it was not her place to chastise problematic customers. If her manager did not see cause for concern, neither should she. And she perhaps enjoyed the fact that her scenery had significantly improved for three days a week since the girl had begun shopping here.

Well, shopping wasn't really the right word. You see, the purple-haired girl never actually bought anything. In fact, she only ever read the same intro to chemistry textbook during her visits. Evie herself had used the same one during her freshman year, and it still resided on the bookshelf in her lab partner's dorm. Although she had a natural talent for the subject, she was perfectly content never having to touch the challenging material ever again. But here the mysterious girl was once again, laying in the aisle with the textbook on one side of her and a notebook on the other.

Unlike every other week, however, Evie cannot simply pretend that the beautiful roadblock is not an issue. Her previous manager had been fired for being too careless with the position, and Evie had been promoted. Her shiny new name tag feels like a badge of honor, as she had been working nearly every night at the bookstore since she had moved here nearly a year ago. If she's being honest with herself, she feels more at home in the bookstore, surrounded by quiet people, than her single dorm room back on campus. Although, being able to afford to stay in a single dorm is a great accomplishment in itself. Working hard at school and in the bookstore had paid off more often than not. Managing problematic customers, however, is certainly not a perk of the new position.

Evie stands at the end of the aisle, watching the girl's eyebrows furrow and her eyes scan the book in front of her. In the top corner of the page, Evie can barely make out the name 'Mal' in messy handwriting. The girl now identified as Mal suddenly frowns, and Evie's eyes are drawn to her lips. They're an unusual shape but not unappealing. Evie wonders if they're as soft as they look. The objects of her attention suddenly shift into a sly grin. "Can I help you?" they ask.

Evie's heart quickens at the interruption. She straightens her posture and quickly composes herself. "You're in the way," she accuses, attempting to sound authoritative.

The girl on the ground's eyes widen. "Wha-? Oh my god! Here let me move to the 'I don't give a fuck' section for you," she replies with faux innocence, shifting into a sit. Evie's eyes narrow and she lets out a scoff at the audacity of Mal's words. The purple-haired girl lowers her eyes back to the textbook. Evie's hands find her hips.

"You know, this is a bookstore, not a library," she states, eyebrow raised. Green eyes find their way back to red-brown.

"I'm pretty sure that just means I don't have to be quiet," she husks, eyes flicking to Evie's red-stained lips. A satisfied grin grows at the sight of the worker's cheeks flushing. Evie shifts her weight nervously.

"No, it means that you can't sit around all day reading books in here. You're supposed to buy them and read them somewhere else," she commands. Green eyes roll in response.

"Is that why there are no chairs? I was going to put in a complaint!" she exclaims. Evie's expression is unwavering. "Look, why does it matter anyway? I've been doing this for weeks, and no one's said anything," she challenges.

"Yeah, well, I'm in charge now," Evie replies, congratulating herself on her ability to maintain an assertive tone.

"I'm sure you are," Mal counters, shamelessly tracing the contours of Evie's body with her gaze. The latter girl's ears now match her pink cheeks. The corners of Mal's mouth coil into a wicked grin. "I think you just wanted an excuse to finally talk to me," she says after a pause. Evie sputters, and Mal's grin only gets wider, revealing a dimple much too innocent looking for her bad-girl façade. "You haven't been very subtle," she says quietly, eyes cast back onto the textbook. Evie's eyebrows shoot up.