Random

Chapter TWO

"Hey," says a warm voice beside me, and I look up to see the guy again, staring at me in concern. "You're looking a little pale. Why don't you come sit down?"

I realize I'm really close to passing out, dizzy and so shaky I can hardly stand up. I let him lead me to a lone chair standing in the wreckage and sink onto it.

"Put your head between your knees."

"Does that work?" I ask on my way down.

A slight chuckle slips out. "I have no idea. It's what I've always heard."

My body buzzes from the back of my neck down my spine, through my limbs. The edges of my vision go black.

His open palm falls hot between my shoulder blades, steadying me. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

Behind the prickling vision comes a wave of nausea. I take a breath in through my nose and blow it through my mouth, buzzing all over, fighting the need to throw up. It helps. I take another. And another.

"That's it."

After a minute I'm steady enough to try sitting up. "Thanks."

"Better?"

He's close. I notice about forty things all at once. His eyes, which really are an amazing color. His gorgeous cheekbones, which are high and tan, as if he spends a lot of time outside. His full lips, slightly tilted into a smile. He smells like sunshine and grass and something faintly spicy.

My body responds all over, all at once, every cell waking up and leaning toward him. I look at his mouth, and I notice he's looking at me the same way. I look back up to his eyes.

"I'm Tyler," he says.

"Jess."

Then it hits me. I turn around and look at the mess. "I just lost my job, didn't I?"

"Uh, yeah. For a while, anyway."

I reach into my apron pocket, pull out the neatly folded bills and count them. $42, which is what will have to carry me through until I get my check Monday. Today is Wednesday-and anyway, that check has to go to rent, though I really need gas in my car, especially if I have to look for work. "Crap, crap, crap."

"You're probably allowed to really swear under the circumstances."

I look up. "It won't help." I rub my face, a hollow terror rolling around my belly. What will I do? Then I shake it off, stand up and stick the money in my pocket. "I have to get another job."

"I work at the Musical Spoon. You won't make as much money, but I could put in a good word for you if you want to come over there later this afternoon."

The Spoon is a hipster cafe/pub near downtown. They serve organic soups and vegan burgers, and a hundred kinds of tea in heavy pots and microbrews from all over the state. Folk singers play on the weekends, and they have poets read on Tuesday nights.

But my favorite thing is the walls lined with old books. Odd books. You can go there and read them as long as you want, and nobody cares if you sit in an armchair for three hours with one pot of tea. It's that kind of place.

Which is why the tips suck.

"I love that place," I say. "You work there?" He doesn't look like a cook or a restaurant person at all. There's something high end about him, though I can't really say what it is. I would have thought maybe a grad student or something, which sort of makes sense. "Are you at Colorado College?"

His face goes hard, like it's turned into a porcelain mask. "I was."

"What were you studying?"

"Environmental science."

I give him a half-smile, shooting him a sideways glance from under my eyelashes. Teasing. "Brains and beauty."

The half-smile he gives back is small but real, his eyes connecting with mine. An electric rippling passes between us. His teeth are perfectly white and straight, the product of a childhood full of dental visits. I slide my tongue over a crooked eyetooth and then force myself to stop.

He says, "Give me your phone. I'll put in my number. You can call me when you're on the way to the Spoon."

I pull out my phone, flip it open. Hand it over and dare him to say anything. He looks at it for a second. "Can you even text on this thing?"

"Of course." I shrug. "I have to do the triple tap thing, but it works."

"Triple tap?"

"Yeah, you know, tap the 1 three times for a 'c.'"

He holds the phone in his hands and gives me a slow, unbelievably sexy smile. It's mostly on one side. Sunlines crinkle on the left side. "I had a phone like this in high school."

"Yeah?" I raise my eyebrows. "That makes you old!"

Tapping in his name and number, he nods. Sunlight dances in his thick brown hair, too long and streaked with gold. I notice the tanned skin of his throat at the opening of his shirt, catch a glimpse of his collarbone. He hands me back the phone and pulls his out. An iPhone, of course, sleek and black and not wrapped up in some fancy case, just cloaked in black glass. He brings up the screen, taps an icon and gives it to me. "Put yours in."

I do it, flushing like he's going to call me for a date.

Don't flatter yourself, I think. He's from a whole different world, and must be at least twenty-four or twenty-five.

Not to mention the little fact that I already have a boyfriend.

I give him back the phone, and over his shoulder I see a news van and think of Henry, seeing this on TV and freaking out. "I've gotta call my step-dad."

He gives me a nod. "Call me. I mean it, okay?"

"I'll come in this afternoon."

****

Where do you think Jess goes from here? Have you ever found a sliver of goodness in the midst of disaster?