She flipped through a random book, examining the text – whether the shape, the size and style were to her liking. She was just an Average Jane, living an average life with a meagre salary – nothing special, nothing too extreme about her. She was just an ordinary girl, spending her time during lunch break buying the items she loved the most – books. Her life was never once out of the ordinary, stagnant even. The only time she came alive and started to breathe is when she indulged in text.
She proceeded to walk past a number of aisles, from general interest to fiction, and fiction to literature. Catching her watchful eyes from the corner, stood a dark-haired man in a formal grey business suit. He was incredibly delectable, with an outstanding profile. She wasn’t expecting him to look up at her approach, so she proceeded to walk further down to the ‘Hobbies’ section. He kept his head down, poring over a book the entire time. And the second she looked away from him, he lifted his head and caught sight of her. After all, she was at his far right. He took no further notice and continued reading.
At that moment, something was running through her mind.
How nice would it be for a gentleman, instead of saying “Can I buy you a drink,” to say “Can I buy you a book?”
It would be the most charming thing to say – at least, to her.
“Excuse me.” A deep, low and breathy voice interrupted her train of thought. Her head jerked upwards and turned around to the voice emanating from her behind. It was the handsome man she saw a while ago!
“Excuse me.” He repeated, looking at her. “Can I buy you a book?”
She inwardly gasped, but was conscious of her surroundings first, looking around her for signs of another person this was could possibly be referring to. She was the only one there.
“Um … I beg your pardon?” She asked, secretly wondering if he was a skilled mindreader.
He did not answer immediately. He stared at her for a while, as if in a world of his own, not concentrating. Then he spoke again.
“I was just … wondering if you happened to mind the idea of me … getting a book, for you.” He said politely.
“No! Not at all!” She answered almost immediately, and added, “But if I may ask … why?”“A gift.” He said nonchalantly.“A gift …” She repeated. “Alright, but I haven’t got anything to give you in return, mister …?”
He silently ignored the enquiry of his name.“I think if you wish to return the favour, Miss, you should pick up a book and allow me to purchase it for you.” He gave a small smile and a prompt nod. He then returned to his book, flipping it open once more.
Just then, she noticed the book he was holding. It was an intelligent thriller slash mystery book by John Grisham, only read by those high in intelligence and understanding.She thought opportunities like this seldom happen, especially to wa girl like her. So then she got the idea of picking up a book that was as witty and as intelligent as the one he chose.
So she did. She picked up another book written by John Grisham, a book she had never heard of before, or even seen in her entire life. She quietly approached him, with the book clutched in her hand.
He looked up, and saw her with the book.“John Grisham, aye?” He said. “Did you like ‘A Time To Kill’?”
She was stunned. She had never even peeked at the cover at all.
“Uh … yes.”“Very good, do you think that the book actually depicts our world and our society, on racism and politics very well?”“Sure. Why not?” She laughed nervously.
He looked away and smiled for a moment, before he held out his hand and gently seized the book from her hands, and placing it on the shelf.“You know …” He paused. “I would like you to choose a book that … defines you. A book that spells you. One that you would actually like.” He politely held out his hand, pointing towards the Fiction section.
Her eyes widened.How did he …?
“Alright. Just a moment, if you please.” She managed to smile and duck her head in embarrassment. She turned on her heels and walked to the suggested section and began searching …
She managed to shortlist her choices to three, carefully avoiding the ones she knew she would never open. The thought of her picking a book that was beyond her maximum intelligence and him finding out, and the embarrassment of it all, assailed her mind. She conveniently ignored the cruel voice within her reminding her NEVER to choose a book to impress others.
“Found one already?” He nodded as she finished, his hands in his pockets.“Yes, I have.” She shook the book.“Good timing, am just about to leave for office. Shall we?” Again he held his hand out, in a gesture clearly saying ‘Ladies first’.
“Will you wait here while I purchase your book?” He said.
“Of course.”
He strode to the counter with an assured air of a man, one hand still in his pocket, the other holding the book.She reminded herself while he paid that she would thank him and ask for his name.
“Here you go.” He lifted it, carefully wrapped in a gift bag
.“Oh, thank you so much, this wasn’t necessary, really.”
She said, kindly referring to the gift bag.“No, I insist. It is, after all, a gift.”
“Thank you, very much.” She smiled at him.“You are most welcome.
Now … do have a good day.”
He bowed slightly in a courteous manner, and added,
“Excuse me.” He walked out of the store.
“Wait, wait! I didn’t catch your name!”
She yelled after him.He didn’t turn, he didn’t let her know what his name was,
all he did was give a small wave with his hand – with his head still turned to the front.
“Wait!” She said helplessly, as he disappeared into a corner. She then muttered to herself, “How will I know who you are?”
*
Who was that man? Who was he?
Thoughts of him clouded her mind, as she straight up her ceiling in bed that night.
She glanced at the book, still beautifull new and wrapped in the gift bag.
She had tried to read it, to concentrate on it, but only for a few seconds – until thoughts of him bombarded her brain and killed off any intentions of concentrating at all.
She then wondered why she was driven to think of him so much?
Was it because of his statue-esque good looks? Was it his highly-sprung attitude?
Or the curiosity about why he had offered to get her a book?
She decided that it was all of it – and the fact that she didn’t know who he was, his name.
It haunted her.
Before she retired for the night, she decided that she would go back to the store tomorrow … and look for him.
Because until she did … she would never stop thinking about him.She sincerely hoped that he would be there, she thought as her eyelids began to close.
Hope.
*
Her heart skipped a beat as she stood outside the bookstore at which she met him in yesterday. She silently prayed in her head that he would definitely be there again.
And maybe … just maybe they’ll be able to be friends.
That would definitely make her happy.
She entered, and she walked towards the same part of the bookstore.
She carefully looked around, aisle by aisle. But there were no signs of him.
She was on the verge of disappointment, but she stayed on, waiting – thinking that perhaps he was a bit late.She flipped through small and illustrated books, to help her pass the time as she waited.
Still, there wasn’t a hint of him at all.
Perhaps he was caught in a meeting? (Which would explain the suit and the mighty air around him). Or he was having lunch with his colleagues?
Or maybe … he just happened to pass by this store by chance, out of boredom and never intending to come by again?
The thought of it all depressed her. And the fact that she had stayed there for the entire lunch break of hers saddened her further when he was a no-show. She walked back to her office in defeat. And in hunger.
Where was he?
She wondered if she would be able to meet him ever again.
“Tomorrow.” She muttered to herself. “Again, tomorrow.
*
She had started reading the novel properly yesterday, and she was almost finished already.
She still prayed that she would meet him today, and she was desperate to because she unsuccessfully tried to get rid of him from her thoughts.
She tried to distract herself, but to no avail. It was all in vain.
The gift was a cruel attempt to remain in her head, she accused him. It was ridiculous, yet it was working perfectly well.
She returned to the bookstore today.
Still no sign of him.
She sighed sadly to herself and thought, “He is never coming back.”
She went home that day, finishing the book – also marking the end of her hope for him.
*
“Will you be joining us?” A colleague asked when it was lunch break.
“Yes. No.” She answered. “I would love to, but I just realized that I have to drop by the bookstore to get a new book.”
“Right.” They spoke slowly. “We’ll pack up something for you.”
“Thanks.”
She walked to the bookstore again, dreadfully remembering that man.
She realized it was just a silly trick of life as she entered with a deep sigh – unknowingly searched for him.
None.
She proceeded to look for a book.
“You must really love books, Miss.” An almost familiar voice said not far behind her.
She turned around.
He was smiling serenly, a hand in his pocket.
“I trust you have finished the book earlier.” He said, stepping towards her.
She was surprised and happy at the same time, and she smiled gleefully.
“Yeah, I have.”
“Hmm.” He looked thoughtfully at the shelf. “Fiction, eh?
Though, if you’re interested, I would recommend John Grisham’s A Time To Kill.”
“Oh, good?” She smiled, unable to take the grin off her lips.
“Brilliant.”
“Perhaps … I shall give it a try next time, after I finish this.” She shook another book in her hand.
He stared thoughtfully at it.
“You know … I was just wondering if I could buy you -”
“A book?” She cut him off expectantly.
“- Dinner, tonight?” He grinned slowly, turning to look at her.
-Kathlyn
