Her Name Was December

Day 1

On December 19th, Greyson Kaye was standing behind the counter of the bookstore. More accurately- leaning on it.

He was engulfed in a word-search puzzle book he had received as an early Christmas present from his grandmother in Florida. Either she thought he loved to do puzzles, or it was some subtle hint for him to go back to school or something, because she'd sent five of these books in the mail. Ranging from crosswords to sudoku, they weren't really his thing, but they kept him busy during work. It was one of the first years of his life that he could be halfway sincere in saying 'thank you' for one of her gifts.

The search he was currently working on was titled 'Zoo Animals'. Although the book was made for children 12 and under, fining the word 'giraffe' was proving difficult to his 19-year-old self. He could have sworn that it was somewhere between zebra and gorilla, but he'd been staring at letters for so long that his vision was blurry. He put the book down and rubbed his eyes, yawning as he watched his single customer mill around at the back of the store.

It was an older man, probably in his sixties, rummaging through the Historical Non-Fiction shelves. He had been browsing for a long while, and he was holding a stack of three or four books against his chest. He brought them all up to a table sitting diagonal from the counter, and tapped his index finger against his chin- what Greyson presumed to be a decision making habit.

The small bookstore was nothing special, really. It was one of the many shops that ran down the main road in downtown Fenton Woods. The store was a small rectangle, with dark bookshelves that were clearly decades old, and books that were probably even older. A few lounging areas were scattered in the corners of the shop, complete with some old couple's donated furniture and rugs that say, "Look at me! I'm dirty!"

Greyson enjoyed it, though. It was a cozy little place that was always quiet, and he would probably spend a lot of his time there even if it wasn't his place of employment.

When the man had finally made a decision, he put two books back on the shelves, and sat the other two against the counter in front of Greyson.

"Will this be all for today, sir?" Greyson asked as he rung up a book about the American Revolution.

"I believe so." the man replied, smiling.

Greyson nodded and smiled back. As the receipt was printing, he heard the bells above the door frame jingle, and a cold breeze carried a few snowflakes into the store. He handed the man his change and threw the receipt into the bag. "Have a nice day." he said as the customer walked out the door.

When the door swung shut, the shop was filled with silence again. Across from the counter, a young girl was slowly walking around through the fiction aisles.

She looked like she had just been shipped home from a boarding school, with her short plaid skirt and a gray cardigan with two thick, red stripes near the bottom. Her messy, dirty-blonde hair was thrown into a bun near the top of her head, and her black, thick rimmed glasses with rectangular frames had just enough perscription to magnify her eyes the slightest bit.

Greyson was intrigued, to say the least. He was usually quite good at reading people, but this girl held herself in a way that felt confident, but still very closed-off from the rest of the world. She walked with straight posture, but always held the edges of her sleeves beneath her fingers, as if to cover up as much of herself as she could. It was odd to him, that this girl could seem so innocent and bright, but still look like she could easily take care of herself.

He didn't expect to make eye contact with her as she sat down at the table diagonal from the counter. He quickly looked away from the girl's crystal-like gray eyes, and buried himself back into the task of finding that goddamn giraffe in a mess of letters that had no pattern at all.