2. Meeting in between books
I felt the hair at the back of my neck tingle.
Whenever I felt a tingle like that, it meant that someone was invading my space. I could sense it even though I had music blaring from my headphones. I looked up and saw a guy with headphones like mine, looking at books in the area I was stacking.
I gave the guy a hard quick look. I specifically put my cart to block the aisle to discourage people from disturbing me.
People, I grunted. The guy was about middle to slim build, wearing a denim jacket, black t-shirt, black jeans that were tight to his legs, and black sneakers. His dark brown hair covered his entire forehead and half of his eyes. It was like a mop on his, thick and voluminous. The only other colors on him was the red and blue strap of his watch and his yellow ribbon stud earrings on his nonexistent earlobes.
Now I had to move and he was blocking my cart. I took one earbud out. I gripped the handles. “Excuse me,” I said.
He didn’t hear me. I repeated myself. “Excuse me, I need to move past you,” I passionately waved my hand in his face.
He looked at me with big shocked deer-like eyes and hurriedly took out his earbud.
A strange feeling caught in my throat.
“Sorry. I, uh, need to move past you and some books away.”
“Oh. Oh, okay.” He pressed his back on the wooden shelf. “Go ahead.”
A heat came over me, but the way that I was, I pushed past him with my cart, a blush and my head held high.
As I worked, I replayed the interaction in my head. Ugh, how embarrassing. I continued to see his figure inside my head. I cursed myself silently. I hated speaking to cute boys, especially at work. Because instead of focusing on the Dewey Decimals, I was thinking about why that guy’s eyelashes were so long and his lips so plump. Oh my god stop.
I was so engrossed in my inner fantasies and my urge to rid myself of them that I didn’t feel a hesitant finger tapping on my shoulder. My tingle superpower had become numb.
Surrounded by music and books, I stepped back, holding a stack of fragile nonfiction, and stumbled on something. The books fell to the floor with a thud. And so did I, except I sat in the shoe of the stranger.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, not so loud that my manager would come down to investigate. I got up quickly and immediately I was confronted by the pained face of the cute boy that stood in my way.
“Are you ok? I’m sorry...” I winced, as if I could imagine his pain. Idiot, I berated myself.
“And here I was trying to introduce myself,” the boy murmured. His brows furrowed and his bangs stuck to the sweat of his temple.
I felt bad but I had to be wary. I have experienced some men trying to pick up some of the girls here. Cheesy pick-up lines and forced scenarios were commonplace. Some failed and some succeeded and those girls got fired. I couldn’t get fired. I had to keep the job until I graduated college.
However this man seemed genuine to a fault. The pain that was etched on his smooth face subsided a little and he moved to pick up the books I dropped. I quickly picked up the most and took the ones he gave me. He leaned against the bookshelf for support.
“Do you want me to get some ice or do you want to have a seat somewhere?” I ask apologetically, observing him.
“No, it’s fine. I just wanted to ask you what you’re listening to.”
In the back of my head, I thought, Wow finally a question I want to answer...
Almost before I could stop myself, I said, “Some by Bolbbalgan4.”
Something like a flash occurred behind his deep eyes. A type of amusement. I couldn’t place it.
“Oh, really?” He said. I noticed that the corner of his lips twitched.
I paused, cocking my head and looking at him intently for any sign that he was playing me for a fool. He didn’t seem to that nefarious.
“No, I’m serious. I really like them,” he said, clearing his throat as if he read my thoughts. “I could recommend you some books and music, if you like. I wonder if you’ve read anything good even though work at a bookstore.”
Now I was sure he was making fun of me. But I blinked. I had to admit. Since I worked at Kyung’s Word Factory for about three years ago, trying to pay off for my commute to college and my fees, I haven’t been able to read like I used to in high school. I’ve been stuck in the real world for too long, I realized. I could use a good book.
“Sure,” I said. “What do you have suggestions?”
“Hmmm not today...,” he mused, “but I can back with a good list. What’s your name?”
I gave him a harder look, “How are you going to come up with a book list for me just with my name?”
“Names hold a lot of meaning,” he said.
I bit my lip. I had a gut feeling that giving my name was like giving my password. “Minji,” I said.
He smiled and his big dark eyes brightened so magnificently, that my heart lurched, uncomfortable in my chest. “Hi, Minji, my name is Daewon. Nice to meet you.”
I smiled, all of a sudden unsure of what I just got myself into, because my name sounded really good coming out of his mouth.
He looked down at his phone, his bangs swinging softly in front of his eyes, “I gotta go but I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”
He flashed me another smile, and I watched almost agape, as he turned to leave and sauntered out.
The moment he wasn’t in sight, I let out the breath I was holding in.
Oh my god what just happened? It was the first time I felt this way. The aura that Daewon left. This charismatic, yet somehow seductive presence. I thought this was like a scene from a movie because I did get lost in his eyes.
Shaking my head and feeling the bookstore cameras on me, I forced myself to go back to work.
I figured out why Daewon was so amused by my song. Some??? Did I subconsciously suggest us having a casual relationship? I blushed hideously and walked home in shame.