The Giving Up/In

It's been the worst day.  And not because anything in particular has happened to me that's been bad, I'm just...I'm fucking fed up.  I fucking give up.  I'm anxious, nervous, scared, and disappointed.

And I can never, ever win.

He hasn’t called and he hasn’t visited.  He hasn’t even given me a message through Rich.  The last time I saw him was when he gave me a quick hug and a kiss on my cheek before I hopped in the car with Liz's neighbor, Katie.  She hadn't been drinking as much as everyone else and I was so fucking thankful.  I know I sobered the hell up when I rushed downstairs and saw Liz lying there on the couch, breathing heavy but not opening her eyes.  I kept calling her name and calling her name, and I started to cry when she wouldn’t wake up.  Someone had already gotten a wet cloth and put it on her forehead, but still that didn’t work.  I tapped her face a little against her cheek and she groaned. Her eyes opened.

Everyone that was huddled around let out a sigh of relief, the tension in the room immediately slackening.

And I just started crying even harder.

I don’t know why.  I mean, she's ok now; she was ok then.  This has happened before.  I've had to do this to her a few times before in my life, ever since we became good friends my senior year in high school.  The ambulance came and got her soon after she woke up.

See, she has this disorder that makes her faint really easily and kind of puts her unconscious for a while.  Rich knew about it, but she hadn’t fainted in so long, never since they met, so he didn’t know what to do. Everyone else was panicking as well.  It was scary.

The hospital kept her over night because she was dehydrated and intoxicated.  I should have looked out for her.  I should have been there and monitored her drinking instead of off trying to fuck Justin.

And now it's Wednesday, five fucking days have gone by and nothing.  Not even a Reese's or a note or a wave as he passed by the front of the store.  He hasn't passed by; I've watched, I've stared, I've obsessed.

And nothing.

I stayed with Liz and Rich all through the night Friday and finally when they released her the next morning I stayed with them on Saturday until later that evening.  When Liz was asleep and Rich was lying by her, I could just tell that the last thing they needed was me there...looking on as they were all in love and concerned for each other.

I went back to my brother's place.  He was gone to some frat party or something so I was alone.  I thought about calling up Justin but then I realized I don’t even have his fucking number.  I thought about calling someone up but I didn't want to bother Rich and Liz...again, and I knew Bev probably had too much other stuff going on to go to ask her boyfriend if he had his number.

Even the thought crossed my mind to call up mom and dad to get Kevin's parents’ number, and then call them to get Kevin's number ‘cause I'm sure he knows Justin's number.  But that was psychotic and I realized that I was being pathetic.

I laid on my bed and thought about my night with Justin.  I thought about every kiss and touch from the night before, the way his jeans were strained, how I could see him, really see him, thick and swollen, and…and fuck, long, going down almost half of the length of his thigh, confined by the tight denim to the inside of his right leg.  I tried to get off but nothing would work; my hand wouldn’t work right, it just wouldn’t.  My fingers felt clumsy and rushed and too eager.  Not confident or caring or steady like his would be.  It just wasn’t good enough.  It’ll never be good enough.  I finally got up, frustrated, achy and so fucking lonely.

I sat there on the dirty couch in my brother's apartment and closed my eyes and made a vow to myself not to cry about it.  Not to cry at the thought that I was supposed to be with him in that moment.  He had asked me to go out that night, he had asked me to go out on a date with him, only moments before we kissed...

I can’t even describe what that night meant to me, what my time with him meant.  It was intense and needy, and yeah I was mainly just concerned with how his lips felt against me, shit all over me, and on my breasts and...God...

And his jeans, and how...how it looked in his jeans.  I can’t get over that.  He was hard and it...it was because of me, it was for me.  I don’t blame Liz or Rich, it just happened.  You can't help it when someone gets sick.

In fact, maybe there's a reason we were interrupted.  Maybe there's a reason we didn’t have sex.

I just don’t know it.

I figured it was my fault for not getting his number sooner and that if he really wanted to go out with me he would’ve asked Bev or Rich by now.  But he never called Saturday and that bummed me out.  Sunday, me and my brother spent all day together and I was a little down, but he actually made me feel better.

We talked about the apartment situation.  He told me that it wasn’t that he wanted to kick me out and that I can stay with him as long as possible, that he'd take the couch or that his friend could.  He told me he was tired of seeing me in my room all the time, never coming out unless I had plans with Liz, just in a way, taking up space in his apartment.

He wanted to see me out on my own.  Even though I probably would just be sitting alone if I had my own place, I knew what he meant.  And even though I'm sure the first thing that matters to him is getting his big sis out so he doesn’t feel so weird with the girls and the parties, I know he means well.

My parents have been asking me how long I plan on living with someone else.  My dad keeps telling me to invest, to apply for better jobs.  He doesn't get it.

It sounds so easy to do, it sounds like you just have to flip a switch and miracles can happen.  But it's just not that easy.  There's a lot to do in order to get that switch to flip.

But I'm starting to think he's right.  They're all right.  I really need to get out there on my own.  I need my own place, my own fucking space.  And I need a new job.  Hannah didn't fire me.  She can't fire me. If she fired me she'd have to work or hire someone new.  And hiring someone new is like the plague to her and god forbid she stand her ass behind that register.

Monday morning she came in and was not only short with me, but with Beverly.  It pissed Bev off, but I was alright, I was happy because it was closing in on 10:45.  The time dragged and dragged but I was happy.  I'd get to see him, I'd...I don’t know, get some answers, some feedback.

Maybe another hug.

Maybe another kiss.

Maybe his god damn number.

But when it landed on 12:45 and I was still waiting around, I realized he wasn't coming in.  But I still hoped.  I went to lunch and debated going by the store.  But I didn't.  I was scared.  I thought maybe that would be too forceful.  Maybe there hasn’t been enough time to pass. I don't know how these things work.

It's like with any other guy I'd be fine.  But this is Justin and he's....I've never liked a guy like this before and I know he likes me back now, in some way...at least I thought so.

I can't jeopardize that.  I have to be on my toes, I have to be perfect.  It's making me paranoid.

So Monday passed.  Tuesday came.  I brought my lunch that day, not really because I wanted to or needed to, but because I was going to be defiant.  I knew if I had to leave the store to get food I'd purposefully walk downstairs past Foot Locker.  I'd turn into a stalker.  I wanted him to come to me.  I wanted him to make the effort.  I figured Tuesday was the day, he'd walk in...sometime and make my fucking day.

And now it's Wednesday, 11:30, and he hasn't shown up. And I have a feeling he's not going to.

"Why don’t you just pick up the phone and call him?" I glance up at Beverly who's leaning against the counter behind the registers.  We're dead today.  It's rainy out and unseasonably cold, meaning the mall is dead.

Meaning he should have plenty of time to come visit.

I smack a price sticker with the pricing gun on the back of one of the gourmet 4 dollars a piece pecan turtles that we just got in.  They're overpriced and not that good and we’ll have to throw away more than half of them when they expire in a few months.

"I told you I don’t have his number," I mumble and throw the candy in the basket with the rest of the priced turtles I've already done.

Beverly rolls her eyes, pushes herself from the counter and says, "Well I'll get it for you, or hell, here..." She opens up one of the drawers under the register counter and fishes around for a moment before pulling out a glossy brochure, fluttering it at me,  "Here's the mall directory, call down there and ask for the store’s number."

I just stare at the paper in her hand and look back at my candy. "What if he's busy?" 

"What if you stop being...” She starts to yell and then steps close to me and says in a lower voice, "Shit Jess, stop being a girl and stressing about this!  He likes you, I promise you.  He likes you.  He wasn’t just looking to hook up.  He's probably down there with the directory looking at our number, going…”

She deepens her voice to sound like a mental case, “Uhh duhh, I think I should call Jess.  Well, nooo…no I don’t wanna be weird.” 

Then she laughs a little and says, “Just call."

"What if I did something wrong?" I'm being ridiculous, I know I am.  But I can't help it that these are real fears that are crossing my mind.  I'm searching for a reason why Friday he was more into me than any guy I've ever met and now....it's like he doesn’t even

exist.

Or, more like I don't even exist.

"Are you serious?  I can't handle this."  Beverly throws up her hands and lets them smack down against her sides.  "You're making this worse for yourself.  Just call, ask him to go on a lunch break with you and talk to him.  Say, Justin this is what I want, can I have it, or ask him to reschedule that date thing for tonight."

"He probably has class or something."

"Yeah!" She nods and is smiling now.  She laughs a little and says, "That's probably why he hasn’t contacted you.  He's probably busy with school."  It's as if she's trying to find a reason herself and the school one fits the bill the best.  That doesn’t make me feel reassured. I feel like if Justin really liked a girl, school, work, nothing would stop him.

"What if he's pissed that we had to stop..." I say, voicing what I hope is untrue, but what most of me is screaming is the reason.  He's not an asshole, I know that.  I don’t know.  Maybe I’m the one who’s pissed we had to stop.  I guess that makes me a horrible friend. "Like what if he's pissed I let Rich open the door....‘cause we were close, Beverly."

"You told me..."  Beverly sighs, looks away from me for a moment and then rolls her eyes back at me. "In detail.  Remember Monday morning?"  I almost smile.  I was giddy then because I knew he would come visit, I just knew he would and I was blabbing to Beverly every detail of Friday night; what he was wearing, how his mouth looked, tasted, how his body looked, how his...dick looked…hard in his jeans, sticking out, wanting it so fucking bad.  God he wanted me.  He wanted me! 

"Remember Jess?  When Hannah was getting on us for talking too much and not working?  You said he was about to get you naked.  You told me more than I ever wanted to know about Justin's body and...and you said that he was the one who stopped it and got up and got you your clothes and walked with you to the door.  He's not pissed.  He's not that guy, Jess.  He's....god, he's the nicest guy ever and you're just blowing this!"

I stare at her and she looks disappointed in me.  Here I've been disappointed in him, in the whole situation but...god dammit, Beverly is right.  I can't just expect him to read my mind and come up here and reassure me that everything’s ok.  Who knows what’s going on with him?  Maybe something bad has happened? Maybe, god, maybe he's sitting down there waiting, just waiting for me to show up.  What if he's just as much of a nervous wreck as I am!

I suck in a breath and nod at her. 

"You’re..." I smile a little.  I can imagine him in his back stock room or up front by the registers, as dead as we are, in his sexy referee uniform, drumming his fingers nervously, wondering why he hasn’t sucked it up and came up to see me.  Maybe he's on his way

right now.

"Ya know, you're right."

Beverly's bored face breaks out into a wide smile. "You gonna call him?”

"No..." I shake my head and smile at her. I can do this.  I'm not some wimpy girl.  I'm not a damsel.  I’m not going to wait on him.  And I'm not going to just fucking let this opportunity pass by me.  I want him, I want to be with him, whatever way I can, and I'm going to get him...whatever way I can.  "I'm going to go downstairs to Starbucks and go pass his store, go in and see if he's there and smile and ask him if he wants anything and be nice and pleasant and flirty and ask him how he is, like...like I haven’t been sitting here freaking out since Friday night."

"There ya go!  Be confident."

She puts out her hand and I smack it.  "You want something from Starbucks?" I ask and I bend down below the register to a little cabinet and pull out my purse, fishing in it for some dollar bills.

"I thought that was just an excuse."

I look up at her and smile, "It is, but it needs to look official, I guess."

She laughs. "Just a tall decaf then."

I manage to pull out some money and when I close the cabinet, stand up and stuff the bills in my pocket I blink, because standing before me is a black and white striped jersey, black pants, and a bright smile.

"Shit, you guys are dead up here."

I gulp and look at Beverly who just sighs and leans against the counter, "Yeah...y’all busy?"

"I guess." I suck in a breath and stare at the name tag on the chest of the person in front of me.  Dana, it says, and she's short and cute.  Her hair is pulled back and she's got on make-up for days, but it looks good, and her boobs are huge in the jersey.  I just stare at her. She starts to smack some gum and I find myself leaning back against the back counter, holding onto it when she says, "Our manager wants us to get some balloons."

I can't move my eyes away from this girl and all I can think is why in the hell didn’t he come get them himself.  He always comes to get them himself.  And if he is busy he'll call and order them and be all cute on the phone and then come pick them up.  And he'll look all ridiculous and cute with a handful of balloons walking out of our store, making some joke about flying away.

But he's not here.  Horrible scenarios run through my mind; he's fired, he's killed, he's laying on the side of the road, his Jeep turned over and on fire and no one cares, no one is looking for him.  Who is this girl anyway? I've never seen her before and I want to ask her a million questions.  But I just stand there and stare.

She pays me no attention.

"Ok, how many?" Beverly asks.  She seems annoyed with this girl, bored with her.

"I don’t know." The girl smacks her gum some more and giggles before leaning over the counter, both hands flat on it and looking in between me and Beverly.  "Oh my god, he's so cute.  Our manager Justin, have you met him?  He like totally just was like, ‘Hey Dana, get your little tush up there and get me some balloons.’  Oh...what a fucking flirt!  I love it though."

I feel like I might puke.

"Yeah..." Beverly says in a flat tone.  "He flirts with everyone."

"I don’t know. I haven't seen it."  She shrugs and pulls back a little, licking her lips again before smacking her gum some more.  I can see it when she chews, bright blue in her mouth, and her lip gloss makes her lips look magnified and shiny.  She looks like every other mall skank worker and right now I want to kill her. 

"I mean I've just been working there like a week, but God.  I think I might just have to go for this one.  Isn’t that like a conflict of interest or something?"

I grip the counter and close my eyes in a slow blink when she starts to fly into giggles.  He wouldn’t date her, right?  Please say he wouldn’t date her.  I can’t stand this.  She's up here, we've never seen her before, and she's acting like her shit is hotter than freaking

Angelina Jolie. What in the hell?  I should tell Justin what she's saying about him.  I... I should talk to him.

I should ask him if...if he likes...her.

"Sweetie..." Beverly says, and if my nerves weren’t a fucking mess right now, I'd cheer her on and hug her for what she says. "I've been working in this mall for years and so has Justin.  He flirts...with everyone. Plus, he has a girlfriend I think."

"No he doesn’t! I asked him this morning.  He said he was single."  It’s like she talks in slow motion and every word seems to stab me hard and piercing, right into my chest, blood everywhere, slowly gushing down my green apron.  My throat starts to close in and my eyes are getting dizzy.

It's ridiculous.  It's pathetic.  We barely even hooked up and there is no commitment there what so ever!  So what if we've made it clear we have feelings for each other and...and so what  if he knows I want him for more than sex? And so what if I thought that maybe that he wanted the same?  So what if I was so, so wrong?  About everything.

Maybe I need to sit down. 

"In fact I asked him to go out this Friday and he said sure! Oh my god you guys, I'll have to come tell you girls how it went."

I want to cry.  But I'm not going to.  I promised myself I wouldn’t cry about this or about him.  He's....he's....he's just an asshole.

And I'm just a dumb, stupid girl who got her hopes blown up bigger than the biggest fucking bubble in the world. And then this little skank just came in, with a thin, tiny needle, and popped any hopes or chances I ever had with him.

"Hmm, I'll have to ask him about that then," Beverly says. As she passes me by to go to the far corner of the registers where the helium tank, balloons, and ribbons are, she stares right at me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Jess, why don’t you go get us those

coffees?"

"No, I'll do the balloons," I say in a whisper.

"Jess..."

The Dana girl sighs and pushes herself up from where she was leaning all over our counter and says, "Oh, I gotta go down and get some money from Justin to pay for these.  I guess just like 10 balloons, all red or something.  But I'll be back in like 15."

"That sounds good. Here..." Beverly turns, leans over our counter and reaches down in front of them, blindly searching for a package of Reese's.  She grabs one and hands it to Dana.  "Give him one of these, say it's from Jess."

"Who's Jess?"  The girl asks with a bit of attitude.

"Oh it's just a little inside joke.  Don't worry, he'll laugh and think you are like the coolest thing, I promise." Beverly fake laughs and Dana starts to smile, looking down at the orange package.  I take in a breath, thankful the girl hasn’t looked at my nametag, that she's stuck up and clueless.  But at the same time I have to wonder what in the hell he's going to think if she really gives it to him and says it’s from “Jess”.

She waves at us as she walks out of the door with the hand that's holding the Reese’s, flashing orange at us.  I stare at her, even after she's out of view.  I just can't stop staring at where that orange wrapper was. 

"Jess...she's just a mall skank," Beverly says, her hand on my shoulder.  "She doesn’t know what she's talking about.  We've never even met that bitch and she's up here blabbing her mouth.  He'd never go for a girl like that, I swear to you...ok?  Jess..."

I blink and finally say, “I want to go home." I look down at the floor and sigh.  "I know I'm being a pathetic girl, but I want to go home."

"Go on a break..."  I look up at Beverly and she's looking at me concerned, sweet, the motherly friend that I truly do appreciate, "Now."

I shake my head at her.  I know what she wants me to do and I can't.  I can't face him, not now. Not when I'm like this.  Not when I know he's about to fuck some mall skank.  Not now that I know for sure that I don't matter.  "I don’t wanna go down there."

"Then don’t.  Just go get a drink, sit down, get some ice cream or a cookie and clear your head. Call your friend Liz, vent, and come back.  Ok? Please...I just can’t have you in here shaking and looking like you might start freaking out."

I look down and my hands are a little jittery at my sides. I clasp them together tightly in front of my lap and say in a whisper, "But I am freaking out."

"Why?"  Beverly asks.  She knows why.  She has to know why.  Or maybe she just hasn’t given up on me and Justin.  Well she can still keep on believing.

But I've given up, I've given in.  And I know I need to figure out, I need to find a way to move on from him.

Maybe Beverly just doesn't understand what he means to me, what he could be for me.

"I've....I've never liked anyone like him before Beverly!  It's like I've got my hopes up and everything and it’s not just like this is a crush, an ‘oh I'll get over it because it just started’ thing.  No Beverly...for the past fucking six months of my life I've been dedicated to him whether we were together or not!"

"Shh...shh..."  She hugs me.  And I'm kind of in shock.  I don't really feel it and I just stand there as she pulls back and says to me, "Go, please. Please just go chill for a half hour or so, alright?  Go get us those coffees and then come back, ok?"

I feel like a zombie, shuffling out behind the registers, holding my hand against my forehead, tired, achy.  I just want to give up, go home, live with my parents forever and hide underneath the covers.  I exit our store and blink a little, holding my eyes wide and trying not to cry, trying to dry them out as best I can.  I could turn right, go down the steps and pass by Justin's store on the way to Starbucks, but I don’t.

I turn left and decide to walk the long way, all the way to the escalators by the food court and then go down and turn back right.  I lick my lips.  I feel thirsty and my head feels heavy.

I should just go back, get my purse and my keys and go back to the apartment.  I should. Maybe I'll do that once I get my coffee. I’ll just tell Beverly I can’t do this today.  I'm such a fucking--

"Jess!!"

My skin feels prickly and I jump.  My shoulders feel cold and I shiver.  I stop immediately in my stride and blink.  I've only gotten one store down from mine and when I turn, following the sound of the loud, male, echoing voice in the mall. I see him, running a little towards me, jogging just slightly from the steps by Macy’s.

I whisper to myself, "Oh my god…" and I watch him approach me.

He's...he's running to me, not quickly or a sprint, but still…  He looks good, tired but good, striped jersey, black slacks, short hair and a bright smile, just like always.

He gets closer and stops with a sigh. His face is a little pink and he props one hand against the railing and the other reaches forward to touch my arm just for a moment, just a small, quick touch.  I gulp.  

"Hey..."  He smiles a little and I just keep staring at him.  He's...

After five fucking days he’s right here in front of me and I don’t know what in the hell to say or to do or anything. 

"Hey, sorry..."  He rolls his eyes and says, "I'm such a loser. I just ran through the mall.  Hey..."  He says it again, he keeps saying it and when he says it this time, he looks at me genuinely, like he did Friday night, lazy eyes and a small smile, as if I'm the most comforting thing he's ever seen.

I still want to cry.

"Hi."  It's all I can say and it's small when I say it.  I feel small.

His eyes are soft and deep and that dark blue color. He’s looking right at me, not off to the side, not distracted or nervously looking at other things…he’s looking right at me, only me.  Five days have done nothing, not a damn thing to change how he looks at me.  But five days has done everything to me, it’s fucked me up, made me insecure, pathetic, and made me rethink everything. 

And now he’s just here, swiping my slate clean, making me forget the past days’ misery without him. "How's Liz?"

"Better."   But my guard’s still up.

"Yeah that’s what Rich said when I talked to him.”  He smiles a little, his hand is still on my arm and he moves up now, fingertips grazing my skin until they hit the sleeve of my shirt. Then he cups my shoulder and gives me a firm, lingering squeeze, “And how are

you?"

"I'm ok."  I lie.  I’m not ok.  I’m fucking not ok!  I’m freaking out.  He’s here, everything should be fine.  He’s looking at me and smiling at me like, like I really do matter to him but, but…but where the hell was he!?

"You look...”  He cringes for a moment and then says quickly, “like something bad happened, what’s up?"

"Oh just...ya know...”  I force a smile and wave a hand, lying to his face.  “Stupid customers."

He smiles for a moment at me, looking at me very carefully and then he stuffs his hand into his front pocket and pulls out an orange packet and wiggles it at me.

"Thanks…”  He laughs a little and then rolls his eyes.  “That girl came down and was all ‘this is from Jess...’ and started laughing all weird and I was like...”  He sighs and is looking at me again in that soft, sweet way.  “Shit, I know I haven’t been up there and I realized I probably seem like the biggest asshole to you.  So I came up to get my little balloons and saw you walking away."

I just stare at him and swallow hard as he holds the mashed package in his hand.  It’s probably smeared and melting now that he put it in his pocket.  I don’t refute him, and I don’t disagree with him about seeming like an asshole.  Actually, I couldn’t bring myself to think that, to really believe that he just decided I wasn’t worth his time.  And even if he had decided that I wasn’t worth his time, I wouldn’t think of him as an asshole.  I’m too far in this now to back out and be able to call him names. 

"Lemme buy you a snack or coffee, please.”  He says pleadingly, smiling. “And then I'll go up and get the balloons from you."

"O…ok." I should say no.   I should have said ‘I have to get back to work’ but no, I’m there walking beside him. He’s looking down, carefully unwrapping his smashed Reese’s, pulling the chocolate from the black wrapper, biting into it, sucking on his finger and thumb at the chocolate smeared there.

We don’t say a word as we walk to the escalators and go down and towards Starbucks.  Once we are down on the first level he tosses his wrapper into the trash can, still sucking a little at his fingers.  I keep thinking how those lips that are against his fingers are the ones that were against my mouth and my skin. And his fingers…those were the ones, pressing into my hips, pulling me down against him so I could feel how much he wanted me.

I start to ache.

But I’m still so fucking unsure about everything.  He hasn’t even mentioned that night.  It’s like it never existed to him.  But it did.  It happened.  I was fucking there!

It’s weird.  The end of last week we were holding hands, leaning into each other, smiling, flirting.  And now we’re walking 3 feet apart from each other, not talking, just there together, awkward and distant.

Before I know it, we’re in the line, already ordered.  He gets a plain coffee and I get a latte, but he insists on paying for mine and I don’t complain.  I think I’m still a little in shock that I’m back standing next to him and I don’t know if it’s the time that’s passed or just being by him again, but I can’t stop thinking about Friday night, about us on that lumpy bed, about to fuck.  As we stand there and wait for our drinks to be made, he has his arms crossed over his chest and mine are stuffed in my pant pockets.  I’m afraid if I let them go I might start touching him.  The way his chest and arms look all tight and pressed against each other right now is just too dangerous.

And I can’t look away. 

"So how was the rest of your weekend, besides your best friend almost dying?"  He says with a small smile, looking down at me with laughter, but concern.  I force my eyes to rise from his chest to his face and the little smirk he has there makes me want to jump him.

"Boring…” I say and then mumble, “lonely."

"Girl..."  His arms uncross and I feel it, a hand against my shoulder, squeezing and then running down to rub my lower back.  I want to die underneath his hand. I want his hand everywhere.

But the guy calls for our drinks and I quickly step forward and snatch mine.  He…he…he can’t just fucking touch me now!

I walk over to the little counter with straws and creamer and I grab a few napkins, thinking to myself that I forgot to get Beverly her coffee. I hope she’s not mad.  He’s right beside me soon and he’s looking at me cautiously as he takes a smidge of cream and pours it into his coffee, blending the white swirls with a little wooden stick. He sighs heavily, "I was going to get your number from Rich and call you up Saturday but I knew you were with Liz, and I figured the last thing you wanted to be bothered with was a stupid boy when your best friend was really sick."

I suck in a breath that’s deep and quiet and when I say, "I wish you would have called," it’s a whisper.  I don’t look at him; just stare at the cup in my hand that’s hot, almost too hot even through the napkin and the little cardboard ring.

"Jess..."

It’s like someone plugs in a lamp in my head and as soon as he says my name I can’t wait any longer.  I jerk my head up and say quickly, fast, staring right at him, searching his eyes, asking him without really asking him if he’s still mine…if…if he ever was. "That girl that came to get balloons..."

His eyebrows furrow and he asks, "Dana?"

I shake my head a little, "Yeah, she said you two were going out on Friday."

"Yeah, she mentioned getting the work crew together for a drink and I told her I might be able to stop by for a little, but…”  He scratches the back of his head and looks at me, “I was kind of hoping I'd have other plans."

I expel a large breath, "She said it was a date!"

A small, sexy smirk comes to his face, "Are you jealous?"

"Funny." But I don’t find it humorous.  Does he not realize what the past five days have done to me?

That right there, that smirk and that comment make it crystal fucking clear, it makes it obvious right then and there that for me this is much, much more serious than it is for him.  That’s fucking dangerous.  That makes me doubt this. 

I turn and start to walk away.

"Jess..."  He calls out to me and soon I’m out of the store. There’s a bench in front of it, in between the Clinque kiosk and a Dippin’ Dots kiosk.  There’s a few potted trees and two benches, one is occupied by an old woman with a cane and several shopping bags.

She’s just sitting there.

I sit down and when I look up, he’s standing right in front of me, eyes droopy, mouth slightly opened. I just shake my head at him and say, “I haven’t spoken to you in five days Justin.  And after Friday night and, and what happened I didn’t know if I had done

something wrong and it just..."

He sits down immediately beside me, arm across the back of the bench behind my shoulders, coffee in one hand, body turned towards me. He looks right at me and says quickly, “I need to ask you something."

I gulp.

"What?" A moment passes. The old lady across from us sneezes loudly.

"What are you doing tonight?"

Yes…Yes.  Ask me out, ask me to do anything, I’ll be there, I’ll go.  As long as you’re there, too.  

I’m pathetic. 

“Nothing." I grin softly.  I can’t believe I went from doubting him to needing him in only a few minutes.

This is really dangerous.  This is bad. 

He takes a deep breath and stares at my knees.  I look at them but nothing is on them, just my green apron across my front and lap and my pants underneath.  I take a sip of my latte and watch him.  He opens his mouth and his eyes meet mine. 

He says softly, but quickly, "I haven’t been up to get Reese's because tomorrow and Friday we're having corporate…”  He pauses and shuts his eyes for a moment as if he’s nervous and trying to compose himself.  “Corporate Foot Locker Jess, come by and survey our store.  They only do it for a few stores in the nation.  Normally they go to the big city ones, but somehow my store is on that list, and so I have to be on-fucking-point.  I have to get in all this new gear and product out and get the store immaculately cleaned and it's insane.  And of course, none of my staff can help.” 

He rolls his eyes and pulls his arm from around the bench behind me and leans his back against it, both hands against his thighs, holding the cup.  “I have one or two that say they might show up tonight, but this was just sprung on me Monday morning that they were coming back and since none of my lazy staff can come help, I’ve been trying to get as much done during the day as possible. And it’s hard when we have a sales floor to run, too."

He stares at his coffee and asks, “And as shitty as this sounds, and I know you don’t want to work on a night off, but I might as well ask… Would you want to come help?”  He glances at me cautiously. “It'd be money under the table and just for a couple hours.

You'll be home by midnight, I promise." 

I don’t say anything at first because I’m a little shocked and a little unsure.  Why in the hell would he ask me to help?  He’s the manager of his store, he can require people to work.  He can get people from another Foot Locker to help.  And his staff isn’t that lazy, at least I don’t think.

Well maybe that Dana bitch is lazy.  And what the hell?! She’s in love with him, I’m sure she’d be first to sign up!

I wonder….I just have to wonder what the real reason is for him asking me to help. 

I want to say because he really is desperate for help, but I think I know why.  I think…I think maybe he wants to be alone with me. 

I feel myself start to smile inside. 

And maybe, maybe he does have to work on his store, or maybe he’s just too chicken to ask me out.

And if that’s the case, then instead of turning me off and me thinking of him as a big loser, it makes him kind of sweet and endearing in my eyes.  But why would he be chicken?!   He asked me to go out with him last Saturday night, didn’t he?  He wasn’t scared then.

It doesn’t make sense.  But it’s an opportunity to be with him, possibly alone.  And I’m sure as hell not passing that up.  I gotta be that confident, determined girl again.  I need to go after what I want and what I need.  I need to go after him.

"You can say no,” he says after several moments of me not responding.

"I'll help," I say.

I can see him gulp visibly and he starts to smile a little, "Really?"

"Yeah…”  I blink and I smile at him.  He starts to smile back, teeth white and eyes crinkled in the corners.  I realize this is the first genuine smile I’ve given him since that night, since when his hands were against my hips and he was pulling down my pants.  I take in a deep breath and keep staring at him.

 “I'll help."

I have no fucking clue what’s going to happen tonight, but as I sit there and watch him sip his coffee and stay quiet and silent and just watch him as he watches me and smiles, I know something, I sure as hell know that something…anything…is going to happen tonight.

I give in.  And I suddenly don’t give a fuck about the past five days.  It’s going to happen.  It is happening and it’s about time.