A Revised Definition

CHAPTER 11

I have been counting the minutes until Monday morning ever since I waved goodbye to Salvatore Friday afternoon. I skip on my way to work, Salvatore's name reverberating in my mind with every step I take. Salvatore who gave me his phone number, who texted me during a concert. Salvatore, with his long lashes, tan skin and golden eyes.

I stack the products on the aisle until lunch time, helping out a few customers when they don't know where a product is located. It actually astonishes me how fast I've learned where everything is placed. Most of the coworkers are older than I am, so we exchange smiles when we cross paths and that's it.

"How was the concert?" I ask him the second he enters the break room. He takes out a bag from his backpack which he shoves in a locker.

"Awesome, man." He falls on the sofa next to me and unwraps his sandwich and cleans his apple with the tip of his Just Do It grey t-shirt. "The vibe there was insane."

I take a bite of my cobb salad and smile sheepishly as he explains to me the concert and the people he's met. It fascinates me the way some people can become friends with strangers in no less than three minutes. Salvatore is one of those people. He's just so extroverted, so open and easy-going; it makes everyone around him feel so comfortable.

He opens the fridge and takes an apple from a stack Linda bought this morning for her employees and heats up a frozen meal in the microwave. He takes a bite of the apple, but the microwaves beeps at that moment, so he lets go of the fruit in surprise. It rolls on the floor, collecting dust and linen. "Ah, sh*t. It was the last green apple."

His eyebrows are furrowed and I get this sudden impulse to get up and wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him and touch his eyebrows and play with his hair and pass a finger along his jaw. But I can't because that would be weird and incredibly disrespectful.

"What did you do this weekend?" Salvatore asks.

I want to tell him about the shehata─slippers─throwing competition Michel held with Peter and Charlie. I want to tell him about Charlie who told me Saturday he wanted to watch Wuthering Heights with me and I was so touched he remembered my favourite movie. Charlie bashed it the entire time, but I still noticed him looking at me to make sure I was laughing and not insulted. I want to tell him about the cupcakes Rita and I made yesterday night and they had all been eaten by this morning and Rita made this huge speech and I felt like I was part of the family.

But then Salvatore's phone chimes and, when he hangs up, he asks me dead in the eyes if we're supposed to go out because it's pretty clear we're getting signs and I smile and freak out a bit and say, "I think so, yeah. But, if you don't mind, I like getting to know you like this."

"Less formal first, got it."
"Thank you."

*****

The next day, I bring a green apple for Salvatore who thanks me with wide eyes.

"I didn't think you'd remember."

"Rita and I went to the grocery store yesterday night and I saw some. They were on sale." The truth is I went there by myself with the sole purpose of buying apples, but he doesn't need to know that. I don't want him to think I'm trying to seduce him, which is not the case; I just care a lot. "I thought I could buy you one because I felt bad for─"

"Thanks. It's nice of you."

I take the hint that him cutting me off means I should leave soon. Maybe he's having a bad day. Maybe I talk too much. Maybe he thinks I'm trying too hard.

Gosh, I wish I didn't get so flustered anytime I spot a slight change in anyone's personality or behaviour.

Being nice shouldn't be associated with being fake and wanting something in return and flirting.