I swished the room temperature water into the back my throat, drowning the pills that had entered my mouth first. I swallowed, hoping the medicine would kick in and numb my headache before I got to the store. Reading with a headache is like trying to squeeze water from a stone. It's basically impossible; and hurts like hell.
After what felt like forever, the subway finally screeched to a stop, and everyone began pouring out, immediately. I waited until it was mostly empty, and I could slip out with little to no contact with any other people. It was much easier to wait than trying to squeeze out and possibly angering someone. I've only had that happen once, and since then I have learned not to be the person who has to be out as soon as the doors open.
I step out onto the cement floor, much different from the rubberish flooring of the subway car, and take in a deep breath of the humid, body-odor, sweat-filled station. Nothing better than the natural scent of New York.
Having lived in a place like New York for your whole life, it's easy to get used to everyday happenings like the pungent smell of a subway station and the crowded streets, but I'll never get used to the looks I get from people because of the outfits I wear.
If it happened to be a rather thin girl who was wearing the clothes I wear, she probably wouldn't get as many stares, but as a woman who carries quite a few pounds over a size 10, people tend to look.
Each morning I pick out my outfits according to what I will be doing that day, and today I picked out something comfortable but still cute since I know I will be at the shopping strip all day. I have on a maxi skirt that sits high on the waist, a cami, and a swimsuit coverup that I got from Walmart, but I like to wear it as a cardigan. Things like this make me feel really good about my body so I try not to think twice when people say I look overdressed for certain occasions wearing what I wear. However, the look isn't complete without a bunch of layered necklaces and a bandana wrapped in my short mane, resting on the top of my head.
Every part of my outfit sits perfectly on my body, which is why I adopted the "fairy-slash-boho" type of style - as it's called on my Pinterest board - since the pieces most commonly found in that style accentuate my body shape in all the right places.
But I don't let it go to my head since I've never even been on a date, let alone had my first kiss yet, at the ripe age of 22.
I squint my eyes as I emerge out onto the busy sidewalk, people hurrying in every direction. Birds chirp and a smile appears on my face as I feel the effects of the medication I had taken earlier; my headache is pretty much completely gone.
A few yards away from the entrance to the subway station is where my local bookstore sits. It has been a while since I've last been since I needed the time to catch up on several novels I've had waiting for me on my shelf. Now that I am all caught up, I'm ready to make another trip to my second home: 'Joan's Reads'.
Joan is my aunt, the store's owner, and also the only extended relative I still have contact with. After I came out as bisexual to my immediate family and a few friends, I decided to make a post on my social media so I wouldn't need to call each one of my relatives individually.
Let's just say they didn't take it well.
I got several messages and phone calls from people telling me how they couldn't support someone who "lived that lifestyle" and that I should let them know when my silly phase was over.
I cried for days after that. I had to turn my phone off because the backlash had gotten so bad. At one point, I considered going back into the closet so that my family would talk to me again, but my older sister, Crystal, talked me out of it. She made me realize it wasn't my fault I was different, and that it was their problem if they couldn't accept me for who I was.
I ended up blocking all of the people who had ridiculed me for coming out, and my life became much more peaceful after that. Joan stood by me and made sure I knew she supported me one hundred percent the whole way through.
I almost think a little too hard on the memory, but push it out of my mind as I open the door to the shop. My eyes immediately fall on my aunt, who is standing in front of the welcoming display, stacking a few books on one another. Her hips sway with the music playing lightly in the background as her arms move around working their bookstore-owner magic.
I smile when I see she's wearing a floor-length, nude-colored skirt as well. I find myself taking inspiration from her too often.
She doesn't turn around at the sound of the bell ringing as the door opens but gives an enthusiastic, "Hello, welcome in!"
I reach around from behind and grab one of her hands that is free of books and twirl her around. As she meets my eyes a giddy grin appears on her face as she chuckles and pulls me into a hug.
"Oh my gosh, it feels like forever since I last saw you, sugar." I feel her cheek pressed against mine, moving as she speaks.
"Jo, it's barely been a month. You and your employees are running my bank account dry with all your suggestions on things to read. I needed some time to catch up so I could come in with a fresh plate," I say, mirroring her grin. It's always nice to see her vibrant self, and I will admit, it kind of did feel like a long time since I'd last seen her.
"I know, I know. But that just means we're good at our jobs. And speaking of full plates, it is fantastic to see you, but I have a stack of paperwork waiting for me so we'll have to catch up later, sugar. Gem is working the front so find her if you need anything."
She doesn't give me a chance to even ask who that is before she's giving me another hug and hurrying off to the back, and I begin my walkthrough of the store. Every time I come in, they always have something I've never heard of before, and it's always so hard to narrow down my picks. I'm well aware I enjoy a good sex scene every now and then, so I tend to hover around the adult romance section.
I hear the sound of chains jangling somewhere close by, and I let my eyes follow the direction of the sound. They land on a girl no more than a couple of years older than me, and at first glance, I would have thought she was just another customer if it wasn't for the employee badge hanging around her neck and the name tag safety pinned to her shirt.
The corner of her red-lipsticked lips crinkle into a smile and I can't help but reciprocate, feeling my cheeks warm at her gesture. I notice her eyeing me up and down, and I feel my body stiffen under her gaze. I almost feel intimidated by the way she carries herself, and to have her assess me is nerve-racking. As her eyes glide down my body, I take notice of her hair and the way it falls over her shoulders in long, jet-black waves. Her outfit looks like it's straight out of a Pinterest post, and I can't help but wish I could pull off something like that the way she does.
At this point, we've been looking at each other for a solid fifteen seconds and when I bring my eyes back up to hers, I realize she's looking directly at me, I avert my gaze immediately, feeling nervous and slightly embarrassed.
The faint sound of chains swinging and footsteps retreating makes me bring my eyes back to where the woman was last leaning against a display table, only to find her gone.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding and relaxed ever so slightly. I bring my attention back to the rows of books and glide my hands along the spines, not really focused on the books themselves, but rather, on the situation that just unfolded mere seconds ago. I take a seat on the carpeted floor.
My hand lingers near the novels by Colleen Hoover. I smile as I pull one off of the shelf and flip the pages against my fingertips. The book smells and looks used, and I think back to the hundreds of books I've finished and donated to the shop over the years.
"Interested in Colleen Hoover?" A voice sounds from behind me and I feel myself jump as I spin my head around, the book still in my hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." It's the same girl who had been watching me.
"Oh, uh, yeah. I think I've read pretty much every book she's ever published," I say with a smile. She sits down beside me and I notice she's holding a book. "What's that?" I ask before I even have a chance to stop myself. She doesn't seem to mind, though.
"Well I saw that you were interested in the adult romance section and I thought I'd bring you a recommendation. It's one of my favorites and the spicy scenes are fantastic." She holds the book out to me, a smile plaguing her face, and I take it into my grip. It looks unfamiliar but the cover has my interest peaked.
Although I can't help but feel a little disappointed that she wasn't checking me out earlier. I mean, it makes sense. She was just observing and doing her job. Plus it's not like I'm something worth checking out.
"Well, thank you, I'll check it out," I whisper, nervously biting my lip. I'm surprised when my voice comes out so quiet. Her smile deepens, revealing her dimples and I fight the urge to touch her face. I just want to drag my hands down her neck and trail kisses along her structured jawline. My eyes widen when I realize I have been staring at her lips, and there's no denying she knows I was. I bring my gaze back up to meet her eyes and I imagine jumping into her ocean, green-blue eyes, and swimming laps.
"What's your name?" she asks, still holding eye contact. I find it strange how interested she is in me, but also a little disappointing that she may not be, after all. Maybe she's just being friendly and making conversation. Doing her job as a saleswoman.
But that doesn't mean I hesitate to tell her my name.
"Magnolia fits you perfectly," she says. "I'm Gemma, but you can call me Gem." She holds out her hand to shake and I take it. Her fingertips are soft and cool to the touch. I'm sure mine are hot and sweaty. Without taking her eyes off of me, she stands up and reaches out to help me up as well. "If this is all you're getting, do you want to head over to the register? I can get you all checked out before I take lunch."
I nod my head and she leads me to the front of the room. She's only slightly taller than me, and her hair falls just below the smallest part of her waist. She has a slim build, but seems to walk with so much confidence it's scary.
I'm so nervous I don't even bother looking through the book before paying and leaving the store. I just wanted to get out of there before my lungs burst. The whole time I was around her it felt hard to breathe. It's only once I've left and sit down in a small cafe a few shops down from the bookstore that I finally take the book out of the plastic shopping bag.
It's a paperback, with a glossy, rose-colored cover. The front features a side profile of a woman whose lips are painted red while her eyes are closed and rose petals fall around her.
I flip the book around and skim down the back summary. My eyes widen as I realize the novel is a romance between two women.
So that can only mean one of 3 things: One, Gemma likes women. Two, Gemma isn't part of the women loving women community, but can appreciate a good book regardless of the sexualities of the characters. Or lastly, three, Gemma has a weird thing for sapphic novels but is a straight woman.
I'm frozen at this new information. It's most likely the second option, but regardless, it's incredibly strange how she would just suggest this book for no other reason besides thinking it's a good book.
That's when I actually begin flipping through the pages, and something scribbled in black ink catches my eye. I flip back to the very beginning to find a phone number written down followed by:
"Hey I think you're cute, we should go out sometime. Give me a call. -Gem"
Holy shit.