Ben came back with a worrying amount of paper in his hands.
He handed me a pen and took it upon himself to guide me through the stack. Meanwhile, Raphael weaved his body between the shelves like it was some sort of dance and he had it all worked out.
After I signed my name on some empty spaces and sealed my employment, Ben walked me around the shop, showing me the methods he used to store his antiques.
"The back of the room holds all the bigger things, like couches, tables, and so on. I try to keep the small, simple trinkets at the front."
Then we moved to the back room. It was smaller than I'd expected it to be, and a lot different from the store itself. There was a small rectangular table on one side, pressed against the left wall, with two simple wooden chairs on either side. On the table, Ben had set up a basic coffee maker, and a mug stood beside it along with a few packets of milk and sugar.
He'd hung up a bulletin board over the table, a time table pinned to it and other important notices. Ben pinned my schedule next to a sticky note that read, "Don't forget Margret's undies."
I had to bite my tongue.
Finally, he showed me how to work the register. There was a computer behind it, and other than the coffee machine, it looked like the only modern device in the parameter.
"Now that that's out of the way," Ben said, "remember how people value customer service. Some can be arrogant but try your best to keep your temper in check."
"I'll do just that," I said.
He nodded. "Well, that's all for today. 5PM tomorrow, and here's my number."
I saved his number on my phone.
Raphael and I said our goodbyes.
We walked in a comfortable silence, leaving the store behind us.
"Fancy a drink?"
"I can't," I said, wincing. "I'm sort of behind on some assignments."
"For someone who was asking to get in my pants just this afternoon, you don't seem too eager now."
He's teasing. "Don't go looking for my lookalikes just yet."
He grinned. "Why would I do that?"
"Because you can't have me."
He laughed. "Oh, I can have you. You on the other hand..."
I wanted to roll my eyes, punch him playfully on the shoulder. Instead I just smiled back at him.
We stopped in between the city where Raphael lived, and the other side where my dorm lay.
I wondered what his apartment looked like. Artsy, probably, filled with color and creativity. An old beat leather couch, a record spinning in one corner. He seemed like the record player kind of guy.
"Thank you," I said, "for helping today."
"I already told you it was nothing."
"Still, I appreciate it," I buried my hands in my pockets. "Do you draw anywhere else on your body?"
A corner of his lips turned upwards. "Occasionally."
"Like where?"
His eyes flashed something curious. "You'll have to try harder if you want a sneak peek."
"What if I want more than just a sneak peek?"
Raphael's smile widened. "Now you're just pushing it."
I took a step towards him without much thought. "Am I?"
"Yes." His eyes fell to my lips.
"Then why does it look like you want me?"
He tore his gaze away. "You need to get your eyes checked."
"Funny, I never heard someone say that about me before."
"I'm usually first at everything."
I raised my eyebrows.
Raphael didn't flush like I expected him to, instead he smiled wider and took a step away from me.
"I should get going," I said, taking my own step backwards.
He raised a hand. "Bye."
I watched as he turned away, walking the opposite direction, and smiled faintly to myself the rest of the way back to the dorms.
My room was empty when I got there, no trace of Dan in the connected bathroom either.
Relieved, I took advantage of the situation and lounged in my boxers.
--
I woke up the next morning and Dan was still not back from wherever he'd gone the previous day.
Checking my phone for any notifications, I remembered that I still hadn't replied to Nate's email.
I spent the next half an hour trying my best to sound normal, assure him in my own words that I was entirely unfazed by his email. I wrote vaguely, briefly, mentioning only what I had to and nothing more. I told him of finding a job with a positive attitude, with words like, "optimistic," "glad," "happy," "interesting," and "future". As if I had a clue.
I grabbed a quick breakfast, a granola bar from a vending machine and a styrofoam cup of coffee.
I relished in its bitter, heavy taste, wondering how Nate managed to live without it. How I'd managed to live without it at some point.
Without Raphael keeping me company, the walk to the antique store felt longer than it had the previous day. I passed many other buildings and landmarks that I had no idea existed. I noticed a park just a few minutes away, a bookstore, an art museum, an old man strumming a battered guitar.
Ben was standing behind the counter waiting for me. He had his ink black hair tied back in a short ponytail at the base of his neck, a pair of thin framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose while his hands held up more stacks of paper.
He merely glanced up at me when the bell chimed after me, and said, "Good, you're here."
He set the papers aside and walked around the counter, "I'll be back at eight."
"My shift doesn't end until eleven," I said.
"I know that," he said, grabbing a coat from a coat hanger by the door and shrugging it on.
"Okay."
"First day on the job, don't mess it up," he called over his shoulder before the door swung shut behind him with a small rattle.
I sighed and slid behind the counter and into the chair.
Ben had set up a few tasks for the day, and I scanned through them wearily, not knowing what to expect.
They didn't seem so bad after I went over them, finding that the most strenuous one was to rearrange some of the heavy furniture at the back. I started with that first.
There was a couch that someone was to pick up on Friday, so that had to be hauled out beneath all the other couches at the back and brought out for easy access when the customer arrived.
Then there was a cabinet that began creaking for several weeks which I had to oil to get rid of the sound.
An antique rocking chair that needed polishing, a skewed portrait of a naked baby that was barely balancing on one nail, a dress with several holes in it that lay on the ground tangled and caught beneath the wheel of the rack that originally held it up.
I spent hours cleaning up, rightening things up, preparing for customers' orders, and dusting shelves.
By the time Ben swung by at eight, my feet were throbbing and my bones were tense. I had no idea how big the store was until that day, with all its odd objects, it filled up the space and made it appear a lot smaller.
Ben examined my work and looked thoroughly pleased. "Great work, and it took you several hours when it would usually take me days. How about you step out for dinner and come back in an hour?"
"I'd like that, thanks. I just need to log down the inventory, and add up some of the cash."
"You should have dinner first."
"All right," I said with a smile. "Thank you. Again."
He nodded and disappeared behind the back door.
I realized, as I walked down the dimly lit streets towards the nearest restaurant, that I hadn't encountered any customers. I wondered how Ben kept the store if that was regular reoccurrence, or maybe it was just my luck, the universe choosing to go easy on my first day.
Finding a decent looking restaurant was not as hard as I thought it would be.
Raphael texted almost just as I had my first bite.
How're you holding up?
Not bad.
Really? Ben can be quite overwhelming
I think he likes me
Now you're just spewing bullshit
I'm serious. He gave me an hour off to grab dinner
Where?
I glanced at the wrapper around my sandwich and sent him the name.
Nice
What are you up to?
Drawing. Well, I was before I texted you
On paper?
It took a few more bites of my food before he replied.
Somewhere else
I paused.
Hint?
I wouldn't show you if you asked
That leaves so many options
Feel free to guess
Maybe after this sandwich
Never took you for a coward
I thought you didn't want this
I'm distracting you from him, and it's working. I think I can bend the rules a little
Him. Nate.
I pushed my thoughts of him aside.
It is working.
My thigh
I'm drawing on my inner thigh
I said after my sandwich
I don't particularly give a fuck about your sandwich
I grinned.
What are you drawing?
Mountains
Will you show me?
No, I'd rather keep teasing you
Gee, thanks
Get back to work, Ben isn't a very patient man
I glanced at the time on my screen. I had ten minutes.
Crap, I'll see you later
I downed the rest of my drink, paid for my meal and walked back to the store with a little more urgency and a slither of something else. Energy, excitement, and longing. Not for Raphael specifically, but to see the ink on his body, the look of concentration on his face, his skin, his skin on my skin, his lips, the smell of his cologne, the feeling of his curls between my fingers.
I craved another's body. Another's touch.
I couldn't remember needing someone else to this extent before, not before I left, not before Nate left.
I walked back into the store and went on with my job, and it helped. It helped that I had something else to think about, something else to worry about, something else to keep me busy.
By the end of the night, when Ben flipped the sign around that displayed the words, "Sorry, We're Closed!" and locked the door behind him, I had long forgotten about Nate. My thoughts were on nothing but the furniture I'd rearranged, school work, numbers, and a pair of icy blue eyes.
Short chapter cause I had to get rid of a lot of useless crap I'd written initially lol
Thanks for reading!