The Best is Yet to Come

Two: Emma

"Hello, how are you today?" I smile enthusiastically, pairing it with my five star customer service voice.

I'm surprised by my bubbly demeanor, the familiar lines come out considerably more cheerful than I feel. Years of long shifts at Glory's has trained me to operate on autopilot and I'm impressed with how convincing I can sound.

I glance at my watch. One more hour.

The next person in line, a man with a mop of brown hair, steps up to the register, dropping several books onto the counter: the newest young adult romance novel, a bible and a parenting magazine.

I bite back a smirk. Definitely an odd collection but I learned long ago not to say anything about people's purchases. Customers don't usually appreciate a nosy cashier.

My autopilot continues and I begin to scan the odd collection of books, placing them carefully inside a paper bag. I glance up at the customer, prepared to take his card for the purchase and still when I notice the way he's looking at me.

Large earthy brown eyes hide beneath thick brows and something in his gaze sharpens when our eyes meet. I have to fight against the involuntary urge to take a step back. Customers barely ever looked at me... let alone stared into my soul, like this guy was.

It's odd, I wouldn't say his gaze is unsettling, just heavy. I've never seen someone notice me this way, his eyes full of curiosity and wonder. I don't mean to stare back but I do, completely caught off guard, to say the least.

We look at each other, frozen for another half a heart beat until he mumbles an apology and clumsily takes his card out of his wallet to thrust in my direction. I don't allow myself to peek at the name on the card and swiftly swipe the plastic through the slot on my register.

I place the printed receipt neatly inside the bag with his books. I force myself to smile at him once more, adding, "Have a great day", so that Glory wouldn't have a fit and hold up the bag for him to take.

He takes the bag, still looking at me, though I'm not really sure if I should even call it that. It wasn't your average customer to cashier look, not even friend to friend. It was something else entirely, though the butterflies in my stomach betray my brain, admitting that I secretly like it.

I watch him turn and practically sprint out of the store. Self consciously, I huff a breath against my palm, testing my breath. Maybe he was just awkward? I chuckle to myself at that thought, I knew a thing or two about that. Still...

A wheezy cough snaps me back to reality and nearly forgetting the reason I was at the registers in the first place, I hastily wave to the scowling teenager next in line. Completely distracted, I work alongside the other cashier, Justin, until the rush is over and the store is peaceful once again.

Turning to me with a goofy smile, Justin offers me a high five, "Thanks for the back up, Emma. You saved the day."

I exhibit an habitual eye roll and ignore his raised palm, "You mean I saved a few cranky customers from the inconvenience of waiting in line?"

"Same thing," he snorts. I pick up the stack of books on the counter and shuffle back to the office, eager to be alone to gather my thoughts, even for just a moment. Justin grabs my wrist before I slide around the register, "Hey, wait!"

Wide eyed, I stare horrified at Justin's fingers burning my skin. He lets go immediately and nervously stuffs his hands inside his khaki pockets. Freckled cheeks turn pink and Justin gives me a weak smile, "I was just wondering if you were doing anything this weekend? I'd love to catch a movie..."

I stare at the cracks blemishing the hardwood floor and bite my lip. Think of something.... come on, think of an excuse...

"Uhm, I can't... my cat is sick... I have to take him to the vet," I explain lamely and turn away, grimacing. There's no way he's going to buy that.

I hear Justin's sneakers scuff against the wood, "Oh, yikes. I'm sorry to hear that. Another time?"

"Mmm," I mumble, trying to be as vague as possible and hoping I didn't seem like a total freak. I add, "You're free to go when Sarah gets here," and book it for the backroom.

That's enough human interaction for one day.

***********

I'm lost in thought as I walk to my apartment later that evening. I'm thankful that I live just three short blocks from the book store. With everything I need within walking distance, there's no reason for me to own a car which was great for a multitude of reasons.

I kneed my fingers against my temples, feeling a headache brewing beneath the surface. After a long day at work, I want nothing more than to relax and unravel my tangled thoughts from today but every time I close my eyes, I see that stranger's piercing stare. It's unlike me to dwell on customers, let alone think of another person so obsessively like this. In fact, I blame Stranger Danger for my headache... Why did he have to look at me like that?

He's just weird, I convince myself, it probably means nothing. Though I'm having a hard time convincing this to my overactive mind.

Finally, my refuge of peace and quiet. I unlock my front door and immediately am greeted with a meow and a black fluffy tail. My perfectly healthy cat, I think sourly. As far as roommates go, Oscar is the best. Quiet, clean and knows when to give me some space.

"Hey, dude," I greet, scooping him up for a loving squeeze. My eyes rake over my tidy studio apartment, relief easing the knots in my shoulders. This large, rectangular room, decorated with faded purple wallpaper, has been my home for the past three years. There's a small bed with too many pillows on the right side of the room. My kitchen area is to the left, with an island that doubles as counter space and table. In the center of the room, a floral couch and matching chair face the wall, turned toward the TV. And of course, because it wouldn't really be my place without them, several full book shelves are placed around the room.

I hang my bag on the hook by the door and promptly change into sweats and a t-shirt. After choosing a playlist to help me wind down, I start working on dinner for Oscar and myself. I decide on something easy and comforting, grabbing a box of macaroni and cheese from the cabinet and placing a pot of water on the stove to boil.

Eating proves not to be distracting enough for my wild mind as I drift back to thoughts of the strange guy from the bookstore. I almost wish we hadn't met like that; so quick and fleeting. I can't remember much about him except for those brown eyes. I wish I hadn't been so captivated by them. It would have been nice to get a good look at the other parts of his face, too.

Obviously, he gave me a shock but honestly, the mystery behind the man has only made me yearn to see him again. Like the cliffhanger of a book, I felt like I needed to know more. If we had met literally anywhere else, I could have said something; had a conversation. But register etiquette doesn't call for anything past the usual small talk.

Liar. You wouldn't have done anything different. You can't. I strangle my merciless self-sabotage and allow myself to fantasize for just a minute. I sacrificed the chance to glance at the name on his credit card, ending the trail right there. Even if I wanted to, I'll probably never see him again.

I gnaw on a fingernails (because nobody's perfect and so what if I have, arguably, the most unsanitary habit of all time) completely powerless against the most dangerous "what if" of all time: But what if I do see him again?

Stop. Even I knew I didn't have enough mental energy to fall down a rabbit hole tonight, so I force that thought aside and try to enjoy the rest of my pasta and powdered cheese. My attempts are feeble though, and I end up just picking at the noodles, my appetite gone.

Nothing but nausea and frustration fill me now. I throw my bowl -noodles and all- into the sink and sulk across the room, pausing to pick up the paperback resting on my bedside table. I fall into bed and bury myself under the thick comforter. Flipping open to the page I had dog-eared last night, I lose myself in the novel, forgetting all thoughts of strange guys with chocolate brown eyes. Unfortunately, it doesn't take long before my consciousness slips and I plunge into an all too familiar dream.