Jonah ON HOLD

6.books

        Milk.

        Eggs.

        Bread.

        Juice.

        Ramen.

        I placed the pen down as I finished the grocery list.  I’d like to get some film for my camera, but I wasn’t really in the mood to dip into my emergency cash too much, especially for something that wasn’t really a necessity.

        One thing I knew that I didn’t want to do was get the pictures from that night developed.  I wasn’t really in the mood to start remembering anything from the attack, and visual aids probably weren’t the best thing to help shove the memories back.

        I heard the bell over the door ding a little, the chime hammering against my eardrum, demanding for me to be alert.  My gaze traveled to the door to see a very familiar face walking in.

        Maya.

        I felt myself shift awkwardly in my seat before waving politely.  In return, she gave one of her light smiles and waved back before running a small hand through her long, straight hair.  Her soapy scent hit me, and I quickly removed my gaze.

        She’s here for books, not for flirting.

        Yes, I’d gotten the job at the book store.  It was only my second day, but because of lack of help and the need to run errands, Mr. Jones had given me cashier duty.

        The man was too trusting.  It kind of worried me.

        I slipped the post-it note with my grocery list on it in my back pocket and put the green pen back on the counter.  I would stop by the grocery store on the way home.  It wasn’t too far out of the way.

        My eyes trailed towards the back of the store, towards Maya.  She stood in front of the historical fiction section, her lips pursed and eye brows pinched.  Indecisive.  I could smell the emotion on her, the faint green color mixed with her purple scent.

        “That section’s fifty percent off,” I said.  The lie seemed to roll easily off my lips, and I felt myself clamping my mouth shut immediately.

        Maya looked up at me.  “Really?”

        No, not really.  I just lied to you.

        “Yeah,” I answered, clenching the edge of the counter in a tight grip.  I pulled away, reminding myself that I could break the wooden surface.

        “Cool,” she said, grabbing the two books that she’d been looking at.  She started towards me, her steps seeming like skips.  A smile remained on her lips as she placed the two novels on the counter.