You mentally laughed.

 Ha ha. Boys. Boyfriend, me? Have you seen me?

To be honest, you had your fair share (not really). You went out with this guy once when you were 17 but he never called it a date so was it a date? The two of you talked for a bit but the poor guy was too nervous to even talk. You both decided to cut it short and left with an awkward hug and smile-that’s it. 

Your second encounter was when you were in college; there was this guy in your Literature class and he seemed nice but you already had a feeling something was going to happen. He asked you out (again, not even calling a date) and the two of you met at an ice cream shop. He seemed to not be interested and he excused himself to take a call outside and never came back, leaving you inside for almost an hour. When you got to class that week, he sat next to the new girl that just transferred into your class that semester. Yet she happened to be the smartest girl in the class. Leaving you at second. 

Can’t really say you’ve had dating experience either. You were just the ‘girl to ask about boy problems’ in your local dormitory. Girls who had boyfriends would show up to your room and ask you for advice while you yourself had never held hands with a boy except your baby cousin’s. Even the popular cheerleaders would ask you. Learning that you were actually good at talking with girls at 2am, mascara running down their eyes and half-melted strawberry ice cream on their laps, you realized you were pretty damn good at doing what you did. 

Besides giving advice, you were also pretty damn good at writing.  Unknowingly, your professors would comment on your work-some even encouraging you to publish a book.

Little did they know you hoped for that.

You hoped for something great. Working in a bookstore was like a dream come true. There was no one else but you and Mrs. Antilly. That was it. It was both relieving being alone and handling things yourself but you also wished for help at times-but always pulled through. You liked that independence.

You started out small. Since there were Schools and a nearby University, some students would occasionally pop in in search for a book. You offered writing help and with the money you eventually came to earn, you put some of that money in funding that bookstore and the current club/organization you had; not even knowing you had made new valuable elderly friends. 

“Oh no,” you laughed it off bringing yourself back to reality, “I don’t have one.”

“Oh please, haven’t you been in love yet? Look at yourself darlin’!”

Darlin’  a voice echoed behind her. 

-

“Do you like it?” She had asked.

“Well Darlin’, I haven’t even read it yet.” He lied. “What made you want to give me this?”

“You looked like you needed something, different. You seem like you need something new, refreshing. You need change.” 

-

It was almost as if he spoke behind her behind her ear.

“Look at yourself!” Cordelia pulled you out of your thoughts, “You’re an angel! You’re sweet, kind, and funny! Any guy would be stupid not to fall in love with you,”

You smiled at their words and looked down at the counter shaking your head. 

“Was it nice?” You asked, “Falling in love? How was it?’’

The ladies gave you a look of what seemed to be motherly adoration and their answers were filled with anecdotes and themes you could pull from.

You sighed nodding. You were glad to have them.

‘’Do you think he’ll come back?” you asked them.

“Who? Book Boy?”

You laughed and nodded, “Yeah, book boy.”

“I give it a week,” another voice called. Your heart dropped looking from the source of this new voice. It was masculine.

“Oh Richard!” Macy called out, “You came!” 

“Of course I did, Baby.” he said before wrapping an arm around Macy; he tipped his hat down. Richard was Macy’s husband. He worked for the NYT Newspaper as a writer and he met Macy through a rush down the subway. Quite romantic actually.

“Now, I hear there’s this boy? What’s going on?” he asked as he adjusted his collar shirt.

“Oh it’s about this boy that came into the shop and we think that our little Tilly here is finally getting a boyfriend!”

You bit the inside of your cheek trying hard to not laugh or blush but failed.

“We just talked! I just gave him a book, Rick! That’s all, a book.”

“Yeah,” Cordelia snickered, “A free book.”

Macy stepped in, “Honey, that’s like the equivalent of a girl that would now-a-days flash a boy.”

Your cheeks flushed red and your eyes widened.

“Ha! See? I’m right! That guy was special after all!” Cordelia says as she throws in a finger to further prove her point. 

“Thing is, Ricky,” his wife said, “She didn’t even trade names with him which is so unlike her! And now we’re thinking when he’ll come back.”

“How long has it been?’’ Rick asked you.

“A week,” you say as you and him look at one another.

He nods and places his hand on his chin, he’s thinking. Rick looks into your eyes and continues to read you very well before he nods again.

“A week,” he said. “I still give it a week,”

“But it’s already been a week!” Cordelia whines. “Why is this boy taking so long?”

“Still, a week.’’ he said decidedly. “It’s been 7 days. If he comes back on the 10th, he’s definitely hesitant but if he comes today, the same day of the week he came last week, then he’s traditional-or just worried that he might not see you again. Had to wait all this time in order to catch you again. It’s too soon to tell where he stands; you don’t know what is going on with a boy now a days but you keep being yourself sweetheart. The boy isn’t worth causing your pretty little head headaches if he can’t seem to respect your self dignity. You’re not here to please him-just yourself. Drop him if he does, okay?” he finished as you nodded thankful for having a somewhat father figure in this big city.

Not really having a father figure really did cause this sense of unbalance within you; making you take the role of a mother and father along with your mother while raising your sibling. Rick was probably one of the first (if not the only) to ever give you this kind of advice, or fatherly protection. A protection you never had but always felt like you wanted. Trying not to cry, you nodded-thankful for having him in your life.

“Thank you Rick. Thank you Macy, thank you Cordelia, you’re all the best.” you said as you absentmindedly wrapped your arms around yourself.

They all noticed before Rick called you out on it.

“Oh come on and give us a hug Tills!” he said as you smiled-tears threatening to fall as you sucurriedly headed their way as you gave the 3 a group hug.

And that was it.

Well for now at least. Rick, Macy, and Cordelia would always step in the morning to say hi and then leave to run some errands you wished you could help but you already had your own responsibilities. Later that day, Cordelia and Macy would stop by at around at 3 along with other elders to come join your self organized and funded (with the money you earned for tutoring) Knitting club held every friday from 3 to 6- something you were internally proud of hosting. 

Quite frankly, you loved Fridays. There really wasn’t much to do since you had all your preparations done for the day so all you could do right now was sit in your laptop and write. And that’s what you intended on doing for a couple of hours.

So you decided to write.

Popping in your earphones, you began writing a story that you would hope others would find interesting.

After writing for what seemed to be minutes, you look at the bottom right corner of your laptop it’s been almost two hours of writing.

It’s 11am, you thought. He came around 11 last week. Oh my god it’s officially a week and I’m just realizing that the girls are doing something to me. It's just a guy!  You think as you make some facial expressions mentally arguing with yourself. 

Let’s get back to writing now. Just for 5 more minutes. 5, nothing more. Then, I can get back to checking the shelves again even though they’re already in good shape. 

Little did you know, someone was on their way for a little visit.

Hearing a bell ring from the background, a part of you hoped for it to be the boy from last week. Taking a moment, you looked from the corner of your eye and noticed it was him. Your heart started palpitating in agitation. 

Dang it he’s here! What am I supposed to say? Should I have had some lines prepared or something? You asked yourself. Of course not! Your conscience says. You just met him a week ago! This isn’t some romantic movie from Netflix, Tilly. Get yourself together! C’mon, he’s waiting for you and you’re going to do this: look up, take your earphones off, and look extremely cool, calm, and collected. Yeah, the 3 C’s haha. Oh my gosh that was cool- DO IT!!!  That voice yelled from the back of your mind. 

Doing exactly what you planned, you gave him a small smile, “Oh hey, book boy. I see you came back,” you comment as you motioned to the book that you let him have.

“Of course,” he says as he walks up to you and the counter, “couldn’t leave one of my favorite bookstores in New York without comin’ back.”

You scoff in response, “Oh I’m flattered. You know, you don’t have to flatter me to get another book you know? There’s actually this method I hear of where people just ask for something and if they’re nice enough, that person might help them?” you say as you look at his facial expressions-getting a better view than last time. 

Dark hair, watery steel blue eyes…

“Well I’m glad that I’m talking to the right person,” 

You hum in response as you repeat his words in your mind. ‘Well I’m glad that I’m talking to the right person.’

“So what did you think of the book?”

He either liked it or hated it, she thought.

I finished it in two days, Bucky thought. Maybe even in one if it weren’t for Sam’s constant bugging. 

By now you had moved and tilted your laptop slightly to the side.

“Well,” He started as you noticed him leaning on your counter. Your counter.

“For 422 pages, Fitzgerald really did himself. He wrote quite the book actually. It was like… trying Champagne for the very first time, or trying on a new suit. Like you said, it was very refreshing. Who knew he would get so much success for a book inspired on his relationship with his wife?”

“What an analogy,” you say sarcastically as you rest your chin on your hand. “You did some research didn’t you?”

Bucky’s eyes widened. Fuck how’d she know?

She could tell his surprise. “What’s the matter, book boy? Cat got your tongue?” You teased with a smile and a knowing look.

He didn't say anything so she decided to keep the conversation going. “I’m just messing with you.’’ you say as you let out a slight nervous laugh, “Glad to hear you liked it.”

“But I didn't say I liked it,”

“Doesn’t matter, you read it and did research on it. I could tell you liked it by the way you were talking to me moments ago. Sounds like a paraphrased NYT review if you’d ask me,”

You continued to talk. “You were using words from others,’’ you lectured, “It’s not a bad thing to get inspiration from that but don’t let that take control over you; don’t let it take over who you are as a person alright? Not even to impress others,”

“Who said I was trying to impress you?”

Your stomach churned a little at a loss for words for a split second

You burst out laughing and changed the subject, “Okay you definitely need a new book.” you say as you get off your seat, “ Fitzgerald you is starting to irritate me and we just met. You need something else.”

Internally, Bucky felt as if he just won that battle.

“Fine by me, Glasses.”

You turn your head in his direction, “Glasses?’’ you parroted, “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Oh no,” he says as he places his hands in his pockets, “It quite suits you,”

“Yeah but it’s not as ironic as Book Boy,” 

He shrugs, “True-but I’m not as quick-minded as you when it comes to talkin’, Glasses.”

You raise your eyebrow at him-an amusing grin fills your smile, “Flattering again, book boy? Geez.”

His dark hair moves swiftly on his shoulders and he releases a chuckle, “It’s not really flattering unless the person sees it as flattering,” he says as he shoots you a look; a look that you dodge.

“Just gotta ask, book boy,” you murmur under your breath loud enough for him to hear. 

“So…” he starts after a moment of silence, “How long have you been workin’ here?” 

You raise your eyebrows at him in surprise, “Oh so now we’re sharing life stories now, huh?  I see how it is,”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “Maybe we should. Tell you what, how about you give me any book in this shop and I give you one. We read them, then we discuss. Oh, and I should have paid you for-”

You raise your hand and shake it dismissively, “No, no, it’s okay. You don’t have to pay for it. Consider it as a gift.”

He nods, “I see,” he says as he looks down in thought for a moment, “Are you busy right now?” he asks.

You shake your head-a nervous lump forms in your throat, “Not really.”

Book Boy smiles at you, “Okay,” he nods, “How about I buy you a coffee in return from the book you gave me last week?” he asks.

Your eyes widen and you swear you feel like you’re living in a Hollywood movie and you feel your heart go from your chest to your esophagus, “Right now?” 

“Why not?” he questions, “I could use someone to talk to right now and who better than you, Glasses?”