The Quiet Ones [g x g]

Chapter 4

  When I wake up, the first thing that comes to mind is pyjamas. As in holy shit don't forget pajamas. The next thing is holy shit I am so dead as in Caitlyn is going to be the death of me.

Luckily I don't have a shift at the bookstore today. Or for another few months for that matter. I'm free! Or an intangible form of freedom, anyway.

I throw on my little round glasses that only ever impair my vision, a brown tweed jacket, suspenders and a bow tie. Heck yeah, rocking that doctor who look today. Do I need keys? Probably not. I can just walk to where we're meeting. I should brush my teeth before I go, though.

"It's cold. So cold. You better have a heater." I say, sliding into Caitlyn's gogo mobile.

"I'm hurt," Caitlyn holds a hand to her heart. "Truly. What do you take me for?"

"Not sure. Doesn't matter. Drive, grasshopper, drive."

Caitlyn grins and puts her foot on the gas, "So, where to?"

"Better go to the next town, first."

"So, what? Tauranga? Heck no, it's too big."

I shrug, "Rotoma, then."

  "No, first we have to go to Rotorua, there's a great bookstore there. We could pick out books for each other," She says as she drives.

"You've really planned this out, huh?"

Caitlyn grinned, "There's this person I like, and I've been planning this for a while. The thing is, well, I barely know them, so . . ." She gestures around at the car, and at the two of us.

"But invited me. Cuz he couldn't come, right?"

Caitlyn looks uncomfortable and shrugs.

We sit in silence before I pick up my phone and plug in the six cord, "How do you feel about Fall Out Boy?" Man, is that even a question? It shouldn't be.

"I've heard of them . . ." Caitlyn says reluctantly.

"Jesus fuck, Caitlyn." I say. Then I freeze. Fuck. I still don't know if she cusses . . .

But Caitlyn just laughs.

"Right. In that case I'm gonna have to educate you." I say, scrolling through my Spotify. I start with Dance Dance, because, you know, a classic.

Caitlyn wrinkles her nose, "I'm not sure it it's my style." She says.

I gasp in outrage, "How could you? Fall Out Boy is my life. That is slander."

Caitlyn giggles, "Alright, fine, play your falling boys. What else have you got for me?"

We listen to Fall Out Boy song after Fall Out Boy song. It actually kind of comes as a surprise when we get to the bookstore that Caitlyn was talking about. It looks nice. It's kind of old school, but modern. And wholly shit it's like those stores in America that have a cafe in it too this is fucking great.

We walk in - well, actually I power walk in and Caitlyn follows me, grinning like a madman. I practically jump from shelf to shelf, listing off authors in my head, John Green, J.K Rowling, Becki Albertalli, Rainbow Rowell, Derek Landy, Neal Shusterman, Cornelia Funke. This. This is truly beautiful. Why aren't there more stored like this? There has to be more.

  "If you're quite done making eyes at books, let's go pick out a few," Caitlyn sidles up beside me, grinning.

I grin, "You've brought me to paradise."

She smiles, tugging on my arm, "Pick out a book for me."

I grin. Shit damn, this is the moment I've been waiting for. Ever since Caitlyn started coming to the bookstore I've been working on a list of books for her. Except, well, since I've never actually spoken to her I've never had the chance to give it to her.

Wow. My life is pathetic.

"Ok," I say, eyes scanning the shelves. "Have you read Harry Potter?"

"No."

My voice almost sounds bored now as I comment that it's slander, but it's not. I mean, I'm not. Bored - that is. I'm just focusing. Trying to find the perfect book. Any book. I could give her Simon vs The Homosapien Agenda . . . actually, it's perfect.

I scour the store until I find it. I even take her hand to lead her there. Actually, as soon as I notice I'm doing it I drop it.

I hold it out to her, "This," I say with a grin, "Is your book. Enjoy - I know I did!"

Caitlyn smiles back shyly, holding a book behind her back, "So, Liam told me you recommended the Scythe book, so that means you must have read it, right?"

I nod.

"But you wouldn't have read The Thunderhead, would you?" She smiled, then her smile drops and her eyes become anxious. "You haven't read it, have you?"

"Nah, I haven't so . . . I mean, well, thank you!" I clear my throat. "So, what do we do now?" I ask. "I mean, I can pay."

Caitlyn waves my offer away, "Nonsense."

  I shrug and we walk up to the counter. "These books please," I say, sliding the books toward the girl behind the counter.

The girl's eyebrows are raised and she looks down at my hands. I follow her gaze and clear my throat. As it turns out, I've dragged Caitlyn here. Again. And so, by default, that means we're kinda sorta possibly holding hands.

  And her hands are soft. Not like, oh her hand is sort of soft. Nah it's more like wholly crap her hand is so soft and I never want to let go. 

  "Are you guys, like, lesbians?" The girl behind the counter asks. She's making it obvious that she's trying not to be homophobic, but she's totally judging us.

I drop Caitlin's hand, but I lift my chin all the same, "Yes, I'm a lesbian, and no, we're not dating. Why? Does my homosexuality make you uncomfortable?"

The girl simply glares at us and scans our books. "Little old to be reading Harry Potter." She mutters.

I feel my face twist into a grimace because oh hell I've dealt with girls like this before. Admittedly they weren't needy girls in baggy sweaters (in other words, my people) but hey, high school is different.

Caitlin is glaring at the girl, but the girl is irrelevant. We've got our books, we can go.

  I tug on her arm, giving her a capital L Look. It's the withering sort of a look that usually says motherfucker. Whether it's directed at her or the other girl is up to Caitlyn to figure out. (Heads up, it's meant for the other girl. Man what a motherfucker.)

  I pull her out of the store, "She's not worth our time," I mutter.

  Caitlyn sighs, "I want to end her. She ruined my favourite bookstore! I swear if I ever see her again she's going to regret what she said today." She glances back darkly, and I don't doubt her words. There's something badass right there.

  "Seriously," I say as I climb into the car. "It's fine. I get it all the time. Usually by people far older than us, but I get that kind of attitude all the time."

Her hands are clenching the steering wheel, and she looks genuinely angry, rather than just the half-assed standing up for me that everyone else does. "People are gross." She says with disgust. "I hate it."

I shrug, "Hey, people are assholes. What can you do?"

She laughs at that, and I'm relieved. She was quiet, and gentle. And then she wasn't. I'm so confused, and, to be honest, a little in awe. 

"Where are we going now?" I ask.

She shrugs, "Sightseeing, I guess. Although there's not much here, and it's getting late."

"A hotel?" I suggest.

"Sounds pretty damn good."

  "What can I say," I shrug and grin. "I'm always right. In fact, you're right, I'm pretty damn good." I smirk and wait for Caitlyn's reaction. If I'm honest, this is kind of a test. A test to see if she has the same . . . uh, sense of humour as me. That is to say. Kind of murderous, kind of, well, dirty.