Chapter Text
"Here's your change, and here's your books. Have a nice day!" I said, my usual fake smile plastered on as I gave the customers a small wave goodbye. They turned to leave and I collapsed into the chair behind me, heaving out a loud exaggerated sigh.
"I want to run away." I said, staring at the florescent lights on the ceiling. Sam, my co-worker, looked up from their crossword puzzle and bit the end of their pen.
"Like the Bon Jovi song?" They asked.
"No, like the shit that'll get my parents to kill me." I replied.
"Well, don't. I already cover most of your damn shifts." Sam mumbled, looking back down at their small puzzle book. I looked out the door, across the mall and at the Scoops Ahoy. There she was again, slinging ice cream with her silly little sailor hat on.
"Maybe I should just work somewhere else then." I said, staring at the small parlor. I could pull off one of those uniforms, right?
"Where? With your little girlfriend?" Sam teased, shooting a smirk at me from the corner of my eye. I turned and glared.
"She's not my girlfriend, Sam. So I think some chick across the mall is hot, sue me."
"Maybe she'll buy a book one day. Then you can finally talk to the woman you've been giggling over all summer."
"Oh please," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're telling me that if all-hair-no-brain over there didn't come in here you wouldn't fall to your knees?"
"Hey," Sam defended, tossing their book and pen on the counter and sitting up. "I never said nothing about all-hair-no-brain."
"I see it in your eyes, my darling friend. Your stupid cold heart is melting for him." I teased, putting the back of my hand on my forehead dramatically.
Sam sighed and stood up. "Keep talking, Shakespeare. I'm sure Juliet over there would love that talk." They walked off to the back, probably to grab another stupid puzzle. My eyes trailed back to the sailor girl. My brain turned off as I stared, not even thinking of a reaction as she looked back.
I snapped back to reality and scooted my chair back, ducking behind the counter and pretending to be busy. After a few seconds I popped back up and stole a glance back, my eyes widening.
"Sam, you son of a bitch." I whispered, watching them stroll into the parlor, hands in their pockets. I watched them nonchalantly talk to the girl of my dreams and order two cones, one for me and one for them. I glared at Sam as they walked back. They just smiled in return.
"It's Robin." Sam said, handing me my ice cream. I looked up at them and titled my head.
"Huh."
"Her name. It's Robin. The other guy was Steve, I think. Or maybe it was Stan." Sam muttered, furrowing their brows.
"I'm going to throw you off the balcony."
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About an hour till close, I watched Steve/Stan and Robin close up their shop. I scooted my chair back and spun around in it, bored. No one even comes to the book store anyway.
"MC," Sam whisper-yelled, pouncing on the back of my chair. "6:00. Or, 12:00. Just, look." They said, grabbing my head and pointing it near our entrance. I watched Robin and Steve/Stan slipped into the store, bickering.
"Can you promise me you'll at least try to read The Yellow Wallpaper?" Robin asked, walking through the shelves with Steve/Stan.
"I don't even read, Robin. I paid a kid to do my essays in English." Steve/Stan replied, staring at the books.
"Nows our-your chance, MC." Sam whispered, slapping the corner of my chair. I stood up and rubbed my eyes. I hope my tiredness from the day didn't show in my face.
Robin and Steve/Stan split up and I noticed Sam immediately dash for the end cap of a shelf. They watched Steve/Stan grab a book and sighed, stepping out so he could see them.
"No no no, not that." They said kindly, slowly grabbing another book of the shelves. "If you want good horror, this is your best bet."
Steve/Stan gave a small smile. "I think I've had enough horror."
I realized my body existed again with a small tap on my shoulder, I turned at was met eye-to-eye with Robin. Her freckles, how did I never notice the freckles?
"Hi." She said simply.
"Hi." I said back.
"The Yellow Wallpaper. I can't find it. I looked through the entirety of the Women Literature section and I didn’t see it. It's about a sick lady who goes insane and locks herself in a room with yellow wallpaper becau-"
"Because she believes there's a woman stuck in it." I said, finishing her thought. "Then she begins to wonder if she is the woman stuck in the wallpaper. Charlotte Perkins Gilman, 1892, right?" I asked. She grinned and nodded.
"I'm trying to get Steve to read it. The dingus over there thought women didn't write back then." She said, gesturing to Steve and rolling her eyes.
I chuckled and pointed to the psychology section. "It should be over there. I-I can show you, if you want?" I said. She smiled and waved her hand towards the books.
"Lead the way."