I crossed off the sugar from my grocery list with a sigh after I put it into my cart. I hummed softly to the tune playing in the store, and I smiled as I recognized the tune. Island in the Sun by Weezer. It had been a few weeks since that fated night at the concert, and I had managed to get Dylan out of my head. That had proven to be a hard feat, and it was times like this when he snuck back into mind.
Like now, when I could swear I heard his voice.
I pushed it out of my mind and stooped down to grab some flour. I noticed a hole at the top, and I was about to put it back when a pair of blue and white Adidas found their way next to me.
"Hey, concert girl. Y/N, right?" That familiar voice said. I looked up at Dylan, slightly blinded by the fluorescent light above his head. The last time I'd seen him, he'd been freshly shaven, but now the underside of his jaw was covered in a smattering of dark hair. It was a bit patchy on his cheeks, pretty much only covering a line over his moles. He had a mustache that connected in two thin lines down the sides of his mouth to his beard.
What were the chances of us meeting twice in four weeks? And to the same song? Maybe I had been too hasty in deciding his moles were just moles. But, no, moles were not soulmate marks, no matter how much they looked like my constellation.
My mouth dropped open and the flour bag dropped from my hands, smacking to the linoleum. A spray of white powder exploded from the hole in the bag of flour, sending me flying backwards on my ass as I coughed attractively and waved my hand in front of my face to clear the air.
"Oh, shit," Dylan's laughter filled my ear as he extended his hand for me. "Are you alright?" He helped me up to my feet, a teasing smile on his face. Of course, the two times I meet a famous person, I make a complete fool of myself both times. Fantastic.
"Yeah," I sighed, offering him a smile that would hopefully hide my blush. "I'm good." Dylan's eyes danced over my face, his smile widening as he gestured to my cheek.
"You, uh, you have a little..."
I quickly swiped my hand over my face, my cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red that made my entire body heat. Again, he simply laughed.
"Here, let me." His thumb gently brushed over my eyebrow twice, once to remove the powder, the second to replace the hairs back in their correct direction. His touch sent sparks that I ignored through me.
"Thanks," I said.
"We gotta stop meeting like this," he joked. "I'm Dylan."
"I remember. It's good to see you again."
Dylan pointed upwards, his mouth quirking into a smile. "Hey, it's our song."
I laughed, dropping back to the floor to fix my mess. "Oh, we have a song now?" I shoved the broken flour bag back on the shelf and picked out another one to take with me.
"Of course. You think I take dancing to Weezer lightly?"
"Depends," I said with a shrug, sauntering down the aisle as I pretended to look for more groceries. I was pleased to notice Dylan following me. "Is it the song you're dancing to or is it the person your dancing with?"
"Definitely the person," Dylan replied, a smile on his face as I looked over at him.
"Well, then I guess we have a song, guy-I've-only-met-twice." I crossed off flour from my list, but I made sure he could see my eyebrow quirk up in a joking way. Dylan chuckled and crossed his arms.
"Well, aren't you a gem and a half," he muttered, mostly to himself, eyeing me with a look I couldn't quite place.
I let out a burst of air and said, "Good thing I'm not two gems, 'cause that would be awkward." This time it wasn't a chuckle Dylan let out, but a full-on laugh that made my entire body feel all warm and fuzzy. The fuzzy feeling left when Dylan's phone buzzed.
He looked at it and frowned. "I have to go. But, hey, maybe I could get your number. We can hang out some time." His request sounded friendly enough, and despite my brain screaming at me that he wasn't single, I was already typing my number into his phone.
"Alright, I guess I'll see you," he said once I gave him his phone back. I waved goodbye, smiling lightly at him before he turned on his heel to walk away. I sighed happily and returned to my list.
Not even a minute later, my phone chimed. I blushed and pulled up the message from the unknown number, automatically saving it.
Orion: Hey, it's Dylan.
I smiled down at the screen, deciding I would tease him a little.
Island: Who?
Orion: We met at the concert? Then in the store just now?
Island: Sorry, I don't know a Dylan.
Orion: Sorry, I guess I got the wrong number.
Not Island?: That's alright. Not all of us can be a gem and a half
Dylan's response came almost immediately, and I bit down on my lip, my smile practically splitting my face.
Orion: IT IS YOU!
Before I could reply, my ringtone interrupted the quite music playing through the store. I answered the phone with a giggle I couldn't control, already knowing how Dylan was going to respond.
"You had me worried," Dylan said. "I thought you gave me the wrong number."
I giggled again, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I grabbed some cereal. "Sorry. It was just too easy."
"Yeah, well, you're hysterical," he playfully grumbled. Dylan and I spent 15 minutes talking to each other before he said he had to go, and I can't lie. The whole situation had me mentally screaming and outwardly grinning like an idiot.
I was certainly acting like an idiot. He wasn't single, yet I convinced myself that he wasn't flirting, and we could merely friends. But even still, I would keep this to myself for now.
