My Lucky Star (One Direction Affection: Book 2)

19: Is That a Magazine in Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

♧ 19: Is That a Magazine in Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy to See Me? ♣

Just look natural, Maddy. That's all.

I slowly walk the length of the back wall of Beatz, trying desperately to make it seem like I am working. Pretending to fix a shelf of old records, from the corner of my eye, I see the teenage boy that I've been watching for the past five minutes. 

Although that seems very creeptastic of me, this is my job. I must protect the store of dust, crooked displays, un-alphabetized CD's, and most of all, thieves.

And if I'm not mistaken, this boy is going to try to steal that magazine. Making him a low class thief. 

I mean, really? Who steals magazines these days?

What gave it away? The nervous twitch in his neck as he looks over his shoulder, trying to see where the employee's are. Or maybe it is the way he keeps his hands deep into his pocket as his upper lip twitches slightly. He  looks no older than a thirteen year old and yet he is as jumpy as someone having a heart attack.

He's so nervous, I almost feel bad.

Well, almost.

Slowly, I creep down the aisle, leaving the stack of records in an utter mess. The boy nervously scratches his head and with his other hand he picks up a magazine. I pause, waiting to see what he does with it. For all I know, I could've been too quick to judge him, Maybe he won't steal it. Maybe he'll just look through the articles and then put it back. Maybe he has no intention of stealing anything. 

Or maybe I spoke too soon.

As if to prove me wrong, the boy looks over his shoulder one last time, and I quickly duck behind the tall shelf just in time. Counting to two, I look back up right as the teen is sticking the magazine deep inside his loose Jean pocket, before pulling his baggy shirt over it and backing up towards the door.

Busted.

I stand up straight and make my way over to him before he has any chance of leaving the store. Walking up behind the boy, I tap his shoulder and immediately see his shoulders tense up. Tentatively, he turns around to face me, his dark brown eyes are full of terror. You'd think this boy just saw a brutal murder, not steal a magazine that's only worth five pounds.

"What have you got there?" I ask him, glancing down at his pocket. 

"Where?" The boys asks stupidly.

"In your pocket," I expand. "That huge bulge. You can't expect me to believe that that's natural."

"Excuse me?" He asks, his lips twisted in disgust.

I bite my lip, realizing how inappropriate that was. I mean, could I have made that sentence anymore sexual? I might as well have said, "Hey, little teenage pre-pubescent boy, is that a magazine in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" God.

"That's not what I meant!" I say quickly, my eyes wide in embarrassment. "I'm talking about the unpaid for magazine that you shoved in your pocket."

"W-what are you talking about?" The boys asks, trying to play it off.

Is he really going to play dumb? I raise my eyebrow at him. "You know, if it weren't for the fact that you are shaking like a little girl, I might actually believe that you didn't just steal a magazine."

The boy sucks in his lower lip. "Really?"

"Well, no," I correct. "I totally just saw you shove the magazine in your pocket. You know, if you want to steal something, do-"