Turning pages ~ Charlie Jones (stereo kicks)

Chapter 14

Annabelle's P.O.V

A tinkling sound filled my ears as I entered my grandpa's bookshop. I still had my school bag strung over my shoulder as I'd come straight from school. Closing the door softly behind me, I weaved carefully through the bookshelves that filled the room. There were stairs leading upstairs, into the fantasy fiction, si-fi and romantic fictions. The non-fiction books were all downstairs.

I saw my grandpa sat reading a newspaper at the counter and I set down a bottle of water I'd gotten him from the small corner-shop next-door. He looked up and gave me a kind smile. "Thank-you Anna, could you go and check on the upstairs fiction? Just to make sure the books are in the right places." My grandpa asked. I smiled and nodded. Then, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I climbed up the stairs to the upstairs section.

Placing my bag behind the desk on the upper-floor, I made my way over to one of the bookshelves and traced my fingers over the spines of the books. My grandpa knew that all of the books were in the right places, he just knows I like to look at all of the books; so he pretends to think that the books aren't in the correct places.

Eventually, my fingers stopped on one book Looking For Alaska, by John Green. Pulling that book out of it's place, my eyes scanned over the back of the cover. I turned it back and trailed my finger tips over the front cover. My mother had gotten me this book for my birthday, before she died. Letting out a sigh, I slotted the book back into it's place.

Then, I turned around and let out a tiny yelp as I crashed into something, or someone. "Oh, sorry," I mumbled, attempting to move out of the way. Instead their arm shot out and their hand clamped down on my wrist, the one that wasn't sprained. My gaze traveled up the arm and I let out a small gasp as I saw who it was. Charlie Jones was in this bookshop. Well that isn't something you see everyday.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, curiosity clear in my voice. Charlie's eyes locked with mine for a moment and all I could see were the beautiful blue orbs in front of me. His eyes were blue, with little specks of green floating around; the green, however, was only noticeable if you were very close. He looked down at the floor before speaking.

"I saw you come in, and uh, I wanted to have a look." Charlie replied, stumbling over his words to get them all out. His gaze was darting everywhere, not staying in one place at once. I narrowed my eyes slightly in disbelief.

"You wanted to have a look in a book-shop?" I asked, not quite believing his story. Charlie's tongue ran over his lips and he looked up at me, this time his gaze not leaving my face. To be perfectly honest, I did feel a bit uncomfortable under his gaze.

"I was wondering if you'd like me to pick you up and take you to my house." Charlie said. To me, he sounded like he wasn't telling me the whole story, but I wouldn't push it too much.

"Oh, right. Well, what time is it?" I inquired. Charlie's hand automatically went to his pocket and he brought out his phone. He pressed one of the buttons and the screen lit up.

"Half five." Charlie responded. "You said you finish at six. I'll just wait until then." His voice didn't falter once, and he said it confidently; almost as if he was trying to say 'you aren't changing my mind'.

"Okay then." I muttered, going back over to the counter where my school bag was and sitting down on the chair behind it. Charlie followed me like a little lost puppy, sitting down on the seat beside me. I could feel his gaze on me as I sorted out the desk and inwardly cringed. I didn't like how much attention he was giving me right now. Even though he'd spilled his life's story out to me, and I do feel so sorry for him and how much he's been through. He's giving me too much attention. I'm just a partner for a project, but today he's found me twice and it wasn't for the project. Well, this sort of was, but he could have just waited.

"Excuse me miss, do you have The Host by Stephenie Meyer?" A girl's voice asked. My head lifted and I looked up to see a girl about the age of thirteen standing in front of me. I gave her a smile and nodded.

"We do, if you look over that side of the floor," I pointed to the left to a certain wall, "You'll find the teen-fiction section. Come back if you can't find it and I'll get it for you," I said, adding another smile on the end. The girl grinned and rushed over to the area I'd pointed to.

I relaxed back into my chair again and turned to see Charlie peering at me. At first, it shocked me, because I'd forgotten he was there, but then I remembered.

"Belle, are you alright?" Charlie's voice cut through my thoughts. Belle, he'd just called me Belle. Nobody apart from my mother called me Belle. I don't know why he called me that, but I don't like it. Not because it's him, but because of the memories it brought back.

"I'm fine, but why," I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. "Why did you call me Belle?"

Charlie shifted in his seat and he looked down, before looking back up. "I don't know. It sort of just... came out?" Charlie replied as more of a question than a statement. My eyes scanned over his face and he looked a bit worried.

"Um, excuse me, I can't find it." The girl's voice rang through my ears softly as she looked at me shyly. I smiled and stood up. Charlie's eyes followed me around the counter. "I'll come and help you, you can come with me if you want." The girl nodded and followed me through the bookshelves. I found the section it should be in and started to look.

Just as I was about to grab the book, a question the girl asked stopped me in mid-action. "Is he your boyfriend?" She asked. I chewed on my bottom lip nervously and shook my head in protest.

"No he isn't, he's working on a project with me at school," I replied, as calmly as I could. I picked out the book and handed it too her. We both began to make our way back to the counter where Charlie was sat when she said something else.

"Really? I think he likes you." The girl said.

"I'm sure he doesn't." I responded immediately. She thinks what?!

That he likes you, idiot.

If you're calling me an idiot, you're calling yourself an idiot, because I'm you.

Whatever, now stop arguing with me, the girl is about to say something.

I pushed the nagging voice out of my mind and carried on walking. We were a couple of bookcases away from the counter and Charlie when she replied to my earlier response.

"No, he does. I can tell by the way he looks at you."

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