This Isn't Like Me

Chapter 2: What's Happening To Me

A couple weeks have passed since the night of the party and I've forgotten about the curly haired guy for the most part. I've thought of him a few times but made myself stop promptly. The wall I've built is great for shutting down wishful thinking.

I wake to the loud beeping sound of my alarm. I smack it until it shuts up. Forcing myself out of my warm bed, I look at the clock, already knowing what time it is. 6:00am. I shower quickly.

After I've blow dried my hair, I dress myself in a pair of black jeans and a big maroon sweatshirt and slip my trusty Chuck Taylor's on. I grab my bag and keys and walk out the door.

I arrive at the little shop that I consider my home. Looking up at the wooden words that read 'Invicta's Books, Etc.', I smile. I unlock the door and step inside. The familiar smell of old books and records fill my nose. I put a Pink Floyd record on and flip the OPEN sign to on.

The door opens and Mr. Invicta, the owner of this little shop and someone who's been like a grandfather to me, walks in. "Hey Mr. Invicta!" I say, giving him a hug. "Good morning young lady, and what have I told you about calling me that, it's Charles." He replies in his sweet but croaky voice. "Ok, ok!" I laugh. "And how are you on this beautiful morning?" He asks. "I'm good, what about you?" "Never been better!" He grins, patting me on the shoulder before walking off for his office.

He's been like my grandpa since I moved to LA as a scared, lonely, parentless 16 year old. He took me under his wing and brought me to work in this shop. And I've been here ever since.

This little shop isn't exactly a hotspot. It's empty most of the time, with the exception of some local freaks and wandering tourists, which is fine by me. Emma comes in from time to time to take me to lunch or see how I'm doing.

I draw back the curtains and let the morning sun bathe the books in warm light. Organizing and cleaning is what I usually do most of the day and today is no different. This little old shop is my favorite place. The peaceful silence mixed with the melodies of whatever music I feel like playing always makes me relaxed.

"Girl, you'll be a woman soon..." drifts in the air as Urge Overkill starts to play. I smile and sway around the small shop with my little cart full of books with thin, yellowed pages. To me, this is freedom. It may not be extravagant but I can do as I wish, I can dance and sing and do whatever I want without the harsh eyes of others watching me. I throw my hands over my head and spin around to the music, my body swaying around in circles, a grin on my face.

"Sparrow Renee!" I hear Mr. Invicta call. I stop, letting my head quit spinning, and then open the door into the narrow hall and turn into his office. "How's everything going out there, dear?" He asks, smiling, as he's the only one who knows of the dancing that takes place. I grin and say, "Its going great!" "Have there been any customers?" He questions. " A few, on and off." I reply. "Good, good." He hums. "Anything else you needed?" I ask. "No dear, I just wanted to how you were doing." He says with a smile. "Oh ok" I say, returning the smile before walking back into main room of the little shop.

Mr. Invicta is a mildly wealthy man. He doesn't make much of a profit with this quaint shop but it's what he loves. He's been running this shop since he was 35 and in his words, he doesn't intend to stop any time soon.

The music begins to twirl my body round and round again as I put books on the shelves. My hips sway back and forth with the music as I push the cart behind the register counter on the left side of the store by the entrance. A smile is on my face as I walk past the rows of bookcases. It vanishes as I see a familiar head of curls. That can't be the guy from the party. How long has he been in here? I ignore a twinge in my stomach and continue walking to the back wall. I hope it's him. A tiny voice in my head whispers. No you don't.