Moiety

two

Saf

The dead little bookstore on the corner was owned by Ms. Hammish. "I got a job when I was sixteen," was my mom's excuse to get more money rolling in. So there I was.

It was the oldest building left here; rust gathered around the door knob and the bottom step at the entrance was snapped. Being this was the beach, new things were popping up all the time. Lots of people forgot about this side of Florida.

"Saf, take your bike down to Walmart will ya? Here's the grocery list," my mother handed me a Santa Claus sticky note (which she's used all year around) with six items on there.

I grabbed my phone, and wallet, and gripped the door until my mom returned my "I love you". I plucked my skinny blue bike with the light woven basket from the side of the house. It looked like a Kodak moment with the vines falling from the roof. Eight blocks was a breeze. It was that transitioning point of summer back into fall.

I locked up my old bike and chained it by the mini Walmart. My worn sandals flopped against the tile and goose bumps scattered my arms from getting milk out of the "cold stuff and refrigerators" section. Least favorite part in any store.

A warm hand found a new resting spot beside my neck. Goosebumps scattered my arms as a thumb nicked at the neck hole of my shirt.

I shuddered, as it had frightened me. A warm hand in a hell froze over section. Damn, it was a miracle if anyone could stay warm in the detested section. Then, I did what probably I shouldn't have. Dropped the carton.

The innocent milk spilled all over the floor and on my shoes, soaking the tops and seeping past my toes. "What the fu-," I began. A smile stopped me.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, love," the voice apologized. Oh my God he had a heavy English accent. "I'm sorry about your milk. I'll pay okay?" My gaze finally adjusted and I recognized the milk murderer. Harry.

Okay. "No," I said," it's fine. Really."

He shook his head," Saf."

He remembered? "You remembered? I apologize for not remembering your name though..," I lied. It was that beautiful man from the bookstore. Harry.

"Harry."

I sighed,"Okay."

He laughed to himself," I would have forgotten yours, but it's kinda hard not to. As you are insanely beautiful and secondly, your name is funny. I'm taking you to the front. I hope you have all of your groceries because I'm paying for your milk now, and buying you a new one." He grabbed my arm and moved me out of the milk puddle. More goosebumps. More milk in my shoes.

***

I rode home with the aroma of sour shoes tugging at my nostrils. The wind of my pedaling speed whipped my hair back and aired out my dairy shoes. I replaced my bike to its home, against the house, and opened the door. My mom's smile was plastered against her skin.

"Safffff," she beamed.
"What?"
"You got accepted in New York!!!!"

A/N hey guys! People are actually reading my book??? WOAH if you do you're probably weird bc who would read this get out.

I'm kidding I'm kidding I swear. I love you who ever you are and keep being you and doing your thing. This books will get better, okay. Lol ok ya'll. bye ♡

-reilly