#PartyBoss isn't a term Tulip Carpenter coined herself but she wears it with pride. Her life is a party, she's doing what she loves, creating mindblowing celebrations for the happiest moments in people's lives. But when the baby she put up for adopt...
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She plucked the earbuds and removed Rick Ross' cocky-confident lyrics from her eardrums to be caressed with Musiq Soulchild's charismatic serenading streaming through the bookstore's docked speakers. The cold blast of air brushed against her tepid face was welcomed, prompting her to emit a faint sigh of relief as she forged forward. The walk from her last class to the academic bookstore was about three minutes but under the blazing summer sun, it felt like fifteen. She needed water and fuel. Fuel that came with Chester Cheetah's mug on the bag.
Hot Fries. She needed Hot Fries. She knew it was corn stuff, powdered cheese, and spicy flavor but it called to her from the second aisle like a siren in the Greek Isles. It wasn't the healthiest choice but she was nineteen, which meant she didn't have many more months to be a full grown teenager and eat like a child. She marched over to the rack and snatched a bag, pulling it open before joining the line at the register.
The line was deceptive, short but took an eternity. She should've expected it. Some people were still getting their textbooks and the sticker shock wasn't something just reserved for car dealerships. Should a textbook cost more than a cell phone? No. But did it? Yeah. Tulip was happy she didn't have a hankering to be pre-anything. Pre-med. Pre-law. Whatever it was, it always came with more books and expensive ones at that.
Her bag was half-empty and her fingertips were stained an orangy-red when she reached the register.
"I got hungry." She admitted with a sheepish smile holding up the bag so the guy behind the register could scan it."
"I'm not judging." A grin lifted his supple lips that prompted her to slightly lick hers. (To make sure cheese crumbs weren't lingering behind, of course) "In my moments of starvation, I usually down a Mr. Goodbar."
He scanned her drink and slid it back to her, "You want a bag?"
"Nah," She gestured to her backpack. "It'll hold it."
"Cool," He nodded. "That'll be $4.15, Tulip."
"What?" She eyed him suspiciously then glanced over her shoulder. "How do you know my name?"
His head full of black curls tipped back and let out the most melodic laughter Tulip's ears had ever been graced with. It was at this point she didn't care that the handsome stranger knew her name. She wanted him to know many more numbers like her telephone number and the number to her apartment.
"I'm Jasper." He gestured to his chest.
She glanced down at the spot and could only draw one conclusion; he frequented the university gym. "No, name tag."
"Oh." He glimpsed down at the purple cloth sleuthing his pectoral. "Forgot it. Rushing." He shrugged nonchalantly then extended his hand, "Jasper Young. Your concert buddy."
"Tulip Carpenter." She held up her cheese-crumb stained hand and waved awkwardly instead then mentally berated herself. Why didn't she pick a clean snack to gorge on like M&Ms or mini Ritz cheese crackers? "We're supposed to meet at three. You're early."
He lowered his hand to the counter, "The girl covering the shift before me had a family emergency so I'm covering for her."
A trio of guys entered the store gaining his attention and a head nod. She took the brief second to admire his side profile, his rich mocha skin, high cheekbones, and the stubble covering his impeccable jawline. Could someone fall in love with a person just by looking at the side of their face? If so, then Tulip was that person. But she kept her face neutral. She wasn't about to let him see she found him attractive.
"That's nice." She swiped her student debit card.
"It's just that right thing to do." He turned his sight back to her as he pulled his wallet out his back pocket. "I don't have $98.25 so here." He handed her a nice crisp hundred dollar bill.
She folded her bill in half and swiped the ticket from her pocket. "I have quarters in my pocket."
"It's just a dollar and some change. Don't sweat it, TC."
"TC?" She lightly laughed, taking a step back. "Are we doing nicknames, now?"
"We're going to a concert together. We might as well be friendly." His smile matched hers and the interesting way he peered at her she knew she could be friends with him. "How are you getting to Houston. I can drive. I mean..." He laughed at himself. "I can drive us."
"I don't know about that." She shifted her weight from foot to foot anticipating someone coming up to the counter. "You are a stranger."
"True." He held up his hand as if he was going to say a pledge. "But I'm a safe stranger. You can call my mama and ask her. Her number is 713—"
"Nope. Stop." She fanned his words, giggling in the process. "I'm not calling your mama, boy.
"Cool. So, I'm driving." He winked then flashed a smile that made her heart skip.
She didn't really have a reason to pass on the gesture. She didn't have a car. "Fine but I'm paying for gas." She said moving away from the counter as the trio made their way to the register.
He nodded, "See you Saturday."
"See, you." She said then left the bookstore floating on a cloud of exhilaration. She was going to a concert with Jasper Young. A person she hadn't known at the beginning of the day and now she never wanted a day to go by without knowing him. She wanted to know more about Jasper Young and now she had an entire car ride to Houston to get to know him.
What's your impression of Jasper Young?
Should she have talked to his mama?
What's your go-to quick snack when you're hungry?
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