Chapter Seven

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Sarah's POV:

      The rest of the day passed slowly with David sneaking glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking. That was okay. He needed time to figure everything out, maybe try to remember something. I was doubtful he would, he seemed pretty adamant about who he was now. But at least now he knew. He believed me.

      I flipped through some vinyl records, deep in thought. The first step had just been taken but... what about after this? People were out to get us. I had no clue what it all meant and neither, apparently, did David.

      Bing.

      I turned my head towards the door as the bell above it welcomed a visitor. It was a young man, pale skinned with a shock of red orange hair that fluffed out in all directions. David looked up from his Rolling Stones magazine and smiled. Watching the stranger out of the corner of my eye, I flipped past another record.

      The silence in the room felt awkward, too quiet with everyone doing something different. The two men didn't seem to think so and occasionally shot each other glances. I felt out of the loop and flipped the Billy Joel record, a sort of bitterness gnawing at me. Things were different here and I couldn't get past it. David was indifferent to me, my friends were borderline imaginary. It was like middle school and David was the crush I couldn't do anything about.

      There was movement behind me and I realized orange hair was behind me, staring over my shoulder. I flipped two more records before looking up at him and giving an awkward smile, "Hi."

      He smiled back at me, "Hey. Sorry, I'm just looking. You don't need to move or anything."

      I nodded, smile still pinned to my face, and slid down the row a foot or two. Orange took my place, lips pursed as he scanned the titles of a few albums. I flipped past another, my eyes still watching him as he pulled out Billy Idol. He flipped it twice and pressed his tongue against his bottom teeth, tongue piercing catching the fluorescent light. I slapped past another record.

      "Record freak?"

      My eyes flicked towards him and I shook my head, "No, not really. Just... browsing."

      The lull in the conversation fell heavier than a dubstep bass drop. My conversation skills were never quite able to get past the friendly introduction stage, so I tried plan B- "Do you like... music?"

      Stupid question, but he perked up with excitement, "You have no idea, love. I am an absolute hoarder of these things."

      Spinning the record in his hands he grinned and I tried to mimic his expression. But he must have sensed my lack of attachment and he shot me a smile before turning back to the rows of albums. My eyes found David who was carelessly sifting through a box of donated CD's. 

       "I'm Zack, by the way. People call me Ziggy."

      I frowned at the disc in my hands, setting it back to look at him, "Ziggy?"

      Zack smiled, "Isn't it fantastic? I think it gives me a little something extra."

      His eyes landed past my shoulder to where David had come up behind me. I turned to see both and abruptly found myself in a social game of monkey in the middle. Ziggy smiled, "Your selection today is sub-par, love."

      "Let me add that to my list of failures for the day." The two grinned at each other and I suddenly wondered as to what their relationship was. I didn't have time to dwell on it because David held up the store keys, jingling them in Ziggy's direction, "Time for me to close up, and I don't keep rubbish in my store."

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