Hooked

2

I'm rarely home.

Since preschool, I've gone to an all girl boarding school in Massachusetts, which is a whole three states away from what is called home.

And now, I'm attending college there.

While I love it, I can't help but be afraid of my time away.

I've become scared that I'll be so caught up in my life back in Mass, that I'll forget.

I'll forget my mother's face. I'll forget my sister's favorite stuffed hippo. I'll forget my dad's woodwork hobby that takes up our basement. I'll forget what made up me.

Losing a memory is one of my worst nightmares.

And that's probably why I'm determined to remember practically everything.

It's unrealistic.

But, I now know the lyrics to just about every song that's played on the radio.

It's a great tool to use while working in the family general store, for sure. Give me a shipment number, price tag or anything---I'll remember.

For example:

The boy wandering through our outdoor department. The one with dark, dangerous eyes and boyish yet rugged looks. He's been coming in since my second week home.

He's bought around thirty new fishing hooks and three spools of fishing line. Not to mention the sixty six Redbulls and three sixpacks of Coors.

And this all occurred over the course of one month.

Like I said. I remember.

Studying the boy now, I watched as he wandered through the aisles, his hands dug deep into his dirty jeans. A brown lock of hair peeked out from under his ballcap, tickling his ear. As he bit down on his lower lip in concentration, I had to admit one thing: he sure was good looking.

"I wouldn't kick him out of my bed." A low voice interrupted my thoughts, and I turned to face Heidi.

With long dark hair, pixie features and golden tan skin, it was easy to say Heidi got the good genes. But alongside those genes, she was absolutely boy crazy. She now stared at the boy with an interested glint in her blue eyes, and I shoved her playfully.

"Don't." I whispered back. I prayed to God that he didn't happen to hear us.

"Why the hell not? He's hot." Heidi smirked at me.

"He's a customer. And he's obviously older than you." I thought back to the couple times he'd bought some beer.

Heidi let out a puff. "Age is just a number, babe," she bumped my hip with her own before slowly heading back over to the icecream counter. "But I'll leave him alone. He's all yours, chicka."

Unfortunately she said that last part a little too loud. I noticed a baseball cap peer over an aisle and immediately ducked down behind the counter, pretending to be busy.

Gosh dangit, Heidi.

I heard footsteps slowly approach the counter and squeezed my eyes shut. Oh no.

"Hello?"

Whoa. His voice was like chocolate harmonized.

Well that sure isn't a weird thought, Luci.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly rose up from behind the counter, pasting on a friendly smile.

"Sorry. Did you find everything you need?"

The guy smiled, displaying a set of pearly whites. His eyes glinted-it was with a look I wasn't familiar with, but could easily get a girl in serious trouble.

"Yeah, I did, thanks." He reached out, placing his items on the counter. Tearing my eyes away from him, I began to scan the codes.

Two packs of Coors, one regular and one light.

A flashlight.

Ice.

Bugspray.

And finally; four Redbulls.

Fighting back the urge to raise an eyebrow at the variety, I painted on a smile and asked for an ID. Searching through his pockets, the guy then found what he was looking for before handing it to me.

I scanned over the familiar information.

Brett Edwards, 21.

Handing the card back to Brett, I bagged all of his items, except the beer case, before sliding it all back to him.

Looking up at him, I was surprised to find him staring at me. His brow was furrowed in concentration, as if he were studying a book. Feeling my cheeks begin to burn, I cleared my throat.

Brett jerked out of his daze.

"Are you free tonight?"

What?

I stared at Brett, shocked. He looked determined, but with every passing second, each pregnant with my silence, that determination began to waver.

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I am." My tongue managed to stumble the words out, and I swallowed. "Why?"

I mean, the only times we've ever interacted were me doling out his total price, and us giving farewells. Other than that, we're like strangers passing on the sidewalk.

Brett's eyes suddenly lost any strength they held, replaced by a very visible doubt and embarrassment.

"Nothing." He mumbled, shaking his head. "Just forget that I asked."

I stared at him for a few more seconds longer, then pursed my lips. Turning, I ripped his receipt from the print and stuffed it in one of the bags.

"Have a good afternoon."

Nodding his head in response, he began to step away from the counter and towards the door.

"You too." And then, with the chime of the bell, he was gone.