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Authors: Lila Felix

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BOOK: How It Rolls
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I placed the smoothie on the counter in front of her and she kissed my cheek like she always did.  I ‘oooh’ed and ‘aahhh’ed with her over her book.  She put it in the glass case behind the counter and when I looked up I locked eyes with Reed.  She was in the inventory room and she was looking at me through the bookshelves.  As soon as she realized she’d been caught, she moved and I couldn’t see her anymore.  Enter the third smoothie.

             
I went into the inventory room and found her on the last row straightening books that didn’t need to be straightened.  She had a purple skirt on today with a black tank top and those same flip flops.  Her orange hair was up in a bun today and didn’t she just look like a sexy little librarian.  She could arrange my books any day of the week.  I cleared my throat and she looked at me, her blush a pink instead of the usual red against her green eyes was spectacular. 

             
“Hey, I got an extra smoothie.  I didn’t know if you like watermelon, it’s Nellie’s favorite.  She reached out and took it from me and mumbled a ‘thank you’.  I went back to my office and Nellie was in the office and she motioned for me to shut the door after. 

             
“What’s up,” I asked.

             
“So, I asked Reed if she knew her new address today and she said she still didn’t know.  So then I asked for her phone number so that I could get in touch with her about team stuff or working more and she said she doesn’t have a phone.  So I asked her why and she said she couldn’t afford one.”

             
“So what are you thinking?” I knew the girl had an idea.  I could see her little wheels turning.

             
“Can we afford to pay for employees to have phones? Not just because of her.  Because I’ve been thinking about it anyway.  I can get in touch with Huxley through Amber but she doesn’t have a phone either.” Her whole face cringed as she asked the question.

             
“Yeah, your profits are going up.  We can get you on a company plan.”

             
“What do I do?  Who do I call?” Nellie was pitiful in the business department.

             
“I’ll take care of it.  Let me go to the cell phone place up the road and set it all up.”

             
“I love you bro.” She gave me one of those melt your heart smiles.

             
“You better.”  I grabbed some stuff and my keys and left to get Reed a phone, I mean, everyone phones, I mean the company phones, ahhhh, screw it.

             
A couple of hours later I had bags full of new phones and Nellie had come to the store to sign all of the paperwork.  She also told me that she invited Reed to the family dinner.  That made me nervous.  I was sure my brothers were going to act stupid when they saw how I looked at Reed.  And I knew how I looked at her. 

             
I brought the phones with me back to the apartment, showered, and changed into a maroon button down shirt, sleeves rolled up, jeans and a pair of Chucks.  I styled my Mohawk and went to dinner.

             
I parked in the back by the kitchen.  And then as the door closed, a wave of nervousness passed through me. Something about Reed being here with my family, she was penetrating another part of my world.  As nerve-wracking as it was, it was also exhilarating.  I hoped the loved her as much as I—um—liked her. 

             
I smacked myself in the forehead with my palm and moved towards the dining room.

             
“Falcon, honey, I need help, please.”  Mom had the dishes for our table lined up.  I grabbed a tray and piled up as many as I could handle and brought them out to the table.  I knew what everyone typically ordered, so I doled out the plates accordingly. I noticed that Reed didn’t have a dish but didn’t doubt Mom for a second.  I brought the tray back to the kitchen and asked Mom what else I could do.  She said she had Reed’s plate and I should go sit down. 

             
I got to the table and Maddox had them all in stitches.  As I sat I stole a glance at Reed and she had that twitchy, uncomfortable look again.  I saw Mom come out of the kitchen with a big bowl of pasta and she set it in front of Reed.  Reed apologized to my mom and of course she waved it off. 

             
“She’s allergic to lemons and limes so Mom had to make her a special pasta dish since Andre puts lemon in everything.”  Dad whispered to me while pretending to pick his napkin up off of the floor. 

             
I nodded my head once in acknowledgement.  I looked over at her and Maddox was feeding her a line of bullcrap, something about his SAT score.  She giggled at whatever he was saying and the claws of jealousy ripped me open, throat to abdomen.  What I wouldn’t give to make her laugh like that.  Shit, what was I thinking?  I didn’t even know her and she didn’t know me.  But the feeling was undeniable.  I couldn’t draw a finite line that separated the lengths I would and would not go to be the one who brought some happiness to her life.

             
“Falcon, did you bring the phones?” Nellie clapped from beside me.

             
“No, I left them at my apartment.  I’ll bring them in the morning.”

             
“Did we get super cool, fun phones?”

             
“You got functional, professional, smart-phones.”

             
“Gross.” Nellie said and I rolled my eyes at her.

             
I suddenly realized that if Reed couldn’t eat lemons or limes then she couldn’t eat Mom’s cheesecake.  And Mom’s cheesecake was so good; it was the only thing on the dessert menu.  I told Dad that I needed to get something from the kitchen and instead snuck out the back door and drove to the nearest ice cream shop and bought nearly one quart of every flavor they had.   I came back in the kitchen and threw it all in the freezer, getting a bold, scary glare from Andre, the chef. 

             
I sat back down, trying not to seem flustered.  Owen had traded places with Nellie so she could talk to Reed and Owen talked to me while he looked forward, something that mimicked our dad to a T. 

             
“Where’d you go?” He smiled as he said it.

             
“Nowhere, to the kitchen.”

             
“Liar guts.”

             
“I went to get something.”

             
“Mmmhmmm.” 

             
“Shut up.”  Owen was such a
know it all
sometimes.

             
Andre came out of the kitchen and placed a pre-sliced cheesecake in the center of the table.  He went behind Reed and pointed to her, needing confirmation and I nodded ‘yes’ as swiftly as I could.  He placed a bowl in front of her with one scoop of every kind of ice cream I’d bought.  She gasped a little.  Mom looked at me from across the table and smiled.  Everyone got a slice of cheesecake except Owen who got three. 

             
Progressively, everyone left and I offered to help Mom in taking the dishes to the kitchen.  We let everyone else go home.  But Reed stayed behind and offered to help.  We got our table cleaned up and I walked her out to her car.  She got in and when she started the engine, I turned to walk back into the restaurant.  But what I really wanted to do was bring her to my apartment and make her tell me every single idiosyncrasy about her.   

             

Chapter 7

Falcon

             

             
When I grow up I want long, red hair like Lion-O from the Thundercats.  Plus, I want to growl and wear weird boots.  That is all.

 

             
I stayed busy the rest of the week.  I didn’t go into the bookstore at all.  Dr. Glusman had scheduled a final for Friday on social programs and public economics.  I got through it easily since I had studied my ass off. 

             
Saturday, Mom was a little short staffed, so I helped out.  One thing growing up as a son of Sylvia Black, I could wait tables like a boss. As I picked up plates from the tables, I couldn’t help but think of Reed. Earlier in the week, Nellie asked her if she had a boyfriend and she said she didn’t.  I almost strangled Nellie when she told me, but she said she was really smooth about it.  What did that mean in Nellie language?  She wasn’t smooth about it at all.  She probably blurted it out in front of the entire bookstore at a staff meeting or something.  But I was relieved about the answer.  It also raised more questions. 

             
Sunday morning I woke up at the butt crack of dawn, for no reason whatsoever and try as I may I couldn’t go back to sleep.  I got in my truck, stopped by the coffee shop and parked in the customer lot on the side of the building so I didn’t take up the regular employee’s spots.  I got out of the truck, coffee in hand, and began the walk to the bookstore.  I turned to look around the lot and spotted that little pitiful car again.  But this time instead of getting excited to see Reed, something just felt—off.  She was in the front seat of her car, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, sound asleep.  I didn’t know what to think.  Maybe she got locked out of her place?  Maybe she couldn’t sleep and came here?  What could keep her from sleeping at her house?  What I really wanted to do was knock on her window and demand to know who was keeping her from her home—so I could beat the piss out of them, or fix it, or something.

             
Not that she would necessarily tell me.  We’d only talked about three times in total.  It was pitiful.

             
So I continued on, and had to look back one more time before entering the bookstore.  I got to my office and started in on a week’s worth of work that I missed. 

             
This ‘mysterious Reed’ shit was starting to piss me off.

Chapter 8

Reed

 

             
Once, after a bout, I got Chinese and my fortune cookie read: “If you look to the future, you won’t be afraid of the past.”  But I must’ve hit my head or something because what I read was: “If you look at your butcher, he will slice your ass.” Damned concussions.

 

              I really, really needed to find a new place to shower.  The last time I showered at the truck stop, some guy came in to clean the bathrooms while I was standing there naked, separated from him only by a paper thin piece of plastic shower curtain.  I also needed to find a new place to do my laundry.  Not because of any hoodlums or skeezy janitors, but because last time I was there, the older woman who owned the place kicked me out thirty minutes before it was supposed to close just because she felt like it.  And I was left with a basket of wet laundry.

             
Plus, there was that little issue of needing a place to live other than my piece of crap Corolla. 

             
But I was desperate and grungy and flat ass broke.  So after sleeping in my car in the bookstore parking lot, here I was, sneaking into the Williamson dorm again.  I knew that after ten or so in the morning, most of the students weren’t in their rooms anymore.  So I snuck in and used their shower. I hadn’t gotten caught yet, and if I did I could just say my boyfriend lived in the dorm or something. 

             
Ugh—I hate living like this.

             

              And then as the hot water washed away the gross film of transiency off of my oily skin, I thanked whoever was looking out for me for the Black family.  I didn’t know if they were working together or singularly and I really didn’t care.  Thanks to them I had eaten a decent meal every Tuesday night for the last two weeks.  I usually lived on gas station snacks and dollar menu fast food.  Let’s face it, there’s just so much culinary magic that can be made in the front seat of a compact car aside from peanut butter and jelly packet sandwiches and my personal favorite, crackers and canned cheese. 

             
And because I didn’t have enough to deal with being basically homeless and all—I was pining for Falcon, like mad.

             
The first time he came around the bookshelves in the inventory room and called my name, I was so breathless at the sight of him that I swore I had apnea. 

             
He was the poster child for irony—gorgeous, male, shudders down to your toes irony.  He had some kind of Mohawk hairstyle, I could see that even under his gray newsboy hat.  Tattoos marked his forearms and I could see the beginnings of more hiding under his rolled up sleeves.  But he dressed like some kind of tax preparer—a white button down shirt, burgundy tie, khaki slacks and then Converses, back to the irony. But as I looked back up to his face, I noticed the most soothing brown eyes I’d ever seen. He said something and my brain must’ve registered it because I followed him to wherever he was taking me. He yelled something about hiring protocol towards Nellie’s office and she yelled back that he should kiss her ass.  I snickered a bit into my own fist. 

BOOK: How It Rolls
12.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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