chapter 3
i get back to my apartment and flop in my chair. i found this apple-red mess of loose threads and stuffing in the dumpster behind taylor's and my apartment ---where we both lived until her death--- about four years ago. taylor and i were looking for some furniture for our new, barren apartment when we were fifteen an had just moved to the city. i found this and she found that butt-ugly, barf-coloured couch that she made me help her vacuum the bugs out of. when i notice the salty drop that rolls down my cheek i wipe it away, it's been nearly two years. the time for crying is long over. now it's work time.
i lean over and grasp the handle of the toolbox i brought in from my truck. i haul it up onto my lap and pop the latches, revealing the hastily-packed lock picking tools. i dump the contents on the floor by my feet and plunk down by it. i reach back into the box for the doorknob and my fingers find only air. what? no i swear i took the knob back from mr. cuteness when i pushed him off my tailgate! i think back and remember watching his adorable features twisted into a disbelieving, if somewhat amused expression fading into a spec in my rearview mirror, with my doorknob in his hands.
"dammit!" i curse aloud. well maybe if i go back in a few hours he won't still be there. so i've got some time to kill, let's figure out what he meant by not doing anything right. i drag my laptop down from the coffee table onto the floor in front of me and tuck my legs crisscross applesauce style. i make sure i'm on private browsing before opening the search engine and typing in 'how to pick a lock'. i'm met by hundreds of links to instructions on picking various types of locks. oh yeah. i'm gunna be here a while.
after triple checking that i've cleared my history, i close my laptop with a sigh. i spent two hours searching through instructions and how-to videos on lock picking and almost all of them require actual lock picks, which i have no method of obtaining. but with or without them, there's nothing more i can do without my doorknob. if mr. cuteness is gone from the store he probably took my lock with him so i grab my purse and drag myself p off the floor. i snatch my keys off the table and head out the door locking it on my way.
once at the store, i park, grab my purse and head inside. it's almost closing time so the parking lot and the isles are fairly vacant. i make a beeline for the doorknob isle, remembering its location and not needing to pause to read a sign. i scan the shelves for about ten seconds before finding the right knob and heading to the checkout. i step up to the till, not checking which one i'm in and am surprised by the voice i hear while digging another twenty dollar bill out of my purse.
"wouldn't it be easier to just ask for your doorknob back than buying another one?" he asks and i can hear the smirk in his voice even before i look up.
"well give it to me then," i demand, surprising myself, and apparently him, with my uncharacteristic boldness. his eyes widen slightly and he raises his eyebrows giving me the once-over.
"now is that really the way to ask for something, cupcake?" he taunts me, "what's the magic word?"
"give it" i stare him down almost losing myself in his eyes until they narrow and he speaks again; "okay cupcake. i'll give you your precious lock. but if you actually want to pick it you're gunna need my help." he pulls my doorknob from under the till and hold it out. i snatch it from his hand and turn to leave, but he grabs my wrist.
"move the hand or lose the hand," i snarl, spinning on my heel to give him the death glare, not in the mood for annoying boys, cute or otherwise. he doesn't respond, but reaches over the counter and, with the hand that isn't clamped onto my wrist, he pulls the pins from my hair, sending a blonde curtain falling into my eyes.
"hey!" i yell at him.
"shhhhh," he quiets me and while i'm busy focusing on the fact that a boy i don't even know just stole my hair pins and is holding me hostage in a hardware store, he snatches the doorknob from my hand and flat-out runs into the room marked 'employees only'. i stare at his retreating figure for a moment, then rush after him.
