Her Name Was December

Day 11

{I never thought in a million years that my writing would recieve as much support as this story has. So, thank you guys, and welcome to the new majority of my following that have found me through this story. I love you all.}

It was December 29th, and Greyson was standing behind the counter a few minutes into his shift, staring down at the rag in his hand. The white cloth had been littered with dust, collecting where he'd placed his hand. His handprint was painted onto the rag in gray, blurred out at the edges where the cloth was slipping around under his fingers. He had gone through the store and dusted the tops of each bookshelf- a job that Emily had neglected for weeks. All he had left to dust now was the front counter, which wasn't going to be too much of a challenge. There were books disrupting the dust semi-regularly, and it was plain to see what parts of the counter had seen the most use by the varying levels of shine.

As he swiped his hand across the counter, Greyson heard the familiar ding of the bell above the door frame. "Hi, welcome to-"

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of her. She swept in through the door as lightweight as the flurry of snow that gusted in with her. Greyson felt butterflies in his stomach, and he tried to force them down with a squeeze of the rag in his hand. He couldn't help but stare as December set her bag next to the chair and sat down without acknowledging him. She caught his eye for a moment, and looked at him as if she was confused, or creeped out. Greyson looked away quickly and scolded himself for being so foolish. Whatever this was that he was feeling- this attraction, or... love?

He wasn't sure what to call it, but it was turning him into such a girl. If Michael could see him now, all googly-eyed and smitten, he'd be so disappointed. Greyson could practically see Mike standing there with an arm around some random girl, sipping a beer and calling him a pussy. As he dusted the register and struggled not to look up at December, he couldn't help but think how much of a pussy he really was.

December propped her bag up against her chair and walked into the maze of shelves to look for today's book. Greyson watched her figure float lightly through the spaces between books, her fingers skimming the spines along the shelf. By his guess, she landed somewhere around the Shakespeare section and stopped to read through the titles.

December's collection must have been huge. She'd already bought over a week's worth of books from Greyson, and he could only imagine how many others she had stacked up at home. When she finally found today's pick, Greyson could see her face light up. For a moment, a faint smile creeped onto her face, and happiness flickered in her eyes.

Only for a moment.

When she turned back around the corner, her face was its usual twist between light and dark. Her eyes were bright and shining, full of passion and beauty. But the longer Greyson stared into the disks of gray, he could see more and more pain. It was like he was peeling back her mask, and all he wanted to do was find a place somewhere inside her where he would belong, to comfort and heal her.

"Can I help you?" December asked, gripping Romeo and Juliet tight against her chest.

Greyson snapped out of his thoughts, feeling his face turn red from embarrassment. "Oh, uh... no. I just... I wasn't expecting to see you here again."

December chuckled, shaking her head as if what Greyson said was foolish. "Why wouldn't I come back?" She swung herself sideways into her chair. Scooting in, she crossed one leg over the other and added, "I only had the flu."

The flu, Greyson thought, mentally smacking himself in the face.

"Oh... Well, I'm glad you're feeling better."

December looked down at the book and opened it to the first page, asking "Why would you care?"

Greyson hesitated before answering with a shrug, even though she wasn't even looking at him anymore to see it.

Neither of them said another word after that. December clicked the pen in her hand, bringing her face close to the page to read. Greyson made his way behind the counter to finish dusting. The day went by the way it always did, with December immersed in her reading and Greyson sneaking glances at her as often as he could, scolding himself every time.

But there was something different about this day. Greyson's palms were warm and clammy, and the square of paper in his pocket felt heavy like a weight. He fidgeted nervously throughout the day, tapping his foot as his mind raced. He never expected to see December again, but since she was right there in front of him, all he could think about was how much it would pain him to lose her again. It's not like he ever had her, but this was the first time in his life that he'd ever wanted someone so badly. There is a very fine line between want and need, and Greyson felt like he'd nearly crossed it. He needed her, and he wanted to keep the promise he'd made to himself to give her the letter.

By the time December checked out, Greyson's hands were shaking. The scanner nearly slipped out of his sweaty hands while he was scanning Romeo and Juliet. The letter was scrunched up in his fist, and his mind was split in two different directions on whether or not to give it to her.

He looked up at December. Her blonde hair was cascading in perfect waves along her face, and her nose was pink from the cold of winter. Her eyes were just as confusing as always, and Greyson felt curiosity roar inside of him.

December's delicate hands sifted through the bag at her side, and Greyson couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to hold them in his own. The receipt printed loudly out of the machine.

Greyson slipped the receipt into the plastic bag with the letter tucked under it.

You see this, Mike? I'm no pussy, he thought, handing December the bag with a smile.