Olivia // Jake Kiszka

8. Jake

At around 6 pm, someone enters the store. Jake is sitting on the floor, stacking some records, and when he looks at the glass door, he thinks he's imagining things.

During the whole day, Olivia was the only thing in his mind. Three weeks ago, when she showed up to his gig with that guy, Jake was sure she didn't care at all about him. Of course, they weren't in a relationship and never mentioned anything about exclusivity, but for two months they haven't seen anyone else, so she should've at least said something.

But then, at the coffee shop, her eyes were flooding with worry. He thought about it all day, so when he sees her among the records, floating graciously to him, he can't help but think it's a mirage.

"Hi." Her voice is so soft that he thinks he's imagining again. "I came to see if you're ok."

"I am." He puts the records to the side and stands up in front of her, a few steps keeping them apart. "Thanks for the cookies, by the way. They were great as usual."

"I'm glad you liked it." She steps forward, lips pressed together into a smile. "I thought about you while making them, I know they're your favorite."

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. There's electricity sliding through his body and he's shaking a bit. To avoid her eyes, he bends down and catches the records again, putting each one of them into its right place. She shouldn't have said that, the idea of her thinking about him as she does something is overwhelming.

"How much more do you need for the amp?" She breaks the silence; he doesn't look at her.

"Not much now. I'm just waiting for this month's paycheck and I'll be able to get it." He puts away the last one and moves to the counter.

"Cool." She follows him and stops on the other side of it, propping her elbows and leaning in his direction. "I'm saving some money, too. Wanna buy a record player."

"Really?" He lets his eyes find her, the ghost of a smile beginning to grace his lips.

"Yeah. Dad's vinyls are untouched for too long, they need some special attention."

"You're right, records are made to be listened. They have a lot to say."

"I love that you work here." He quirks an eyebrow. His mind wanders to Brooklyn, the amount of times his ex told him it was embarrassing telling her parents where he worked makes him think she is being sarcastic, but there's only honesty shining in her eyes.

"It's terrible, Olivia. It barely pays the rent."

"Terrible?" She chuckles. "Look around, Jake. There's music everywhere, you're surrounded by the thing you love the most. My work barely pays my rent, but I get to serve people fresh coffee and smell muffins all day. Besides, this job will get you an amp, mine will get me a record player. You have to appreciate the small things."

She's right, she's always annoyingly right. He lets his eyes wander about her face; she's so beautiful, but it's not just that, there's something in her eyes that makes him crazy. Sometimes he feels like crying just looking at her.

"What?" She asks in a whisper, waking him up from his daydream.

"What?" He asks, as well.

"You're staring." He looks down, shaking his head and smiling to himself.

"So," he begins, changing the subject. "Nice to see someone from work finally likes you."

"Yeah, Carmen is great." She chuckles. "You know what's weird? She was raised in the church, has super strict parents. If someone got reasons to hate me, it's her."