Meet me at your shop - Prose

It was a slow day at the Kitchen Applicance shop and Ryan and his friend Nico were playing with a fortune teller they keep within arms distance. Nico made it for wherever they were bored out of their minds. Nobody in the strip mall went to their store so it was always slow, mainly about 30 customers. Today, there had been less than fifteen and stocking and cleaning were already done. There was not much to be done. 

“Alright Patel, pick your color.” Nico said as he gestured to Ryan the fortune. 

“Red.” He said, as Nico turned the paper three ways. 

“What number are you choosing?” 

“7.” Ryan smirked as Nico moved it once more to seven distinguished angles. 

“An animal?” 

“A capybara, duh.” He responded and Nico lifted up the paper where a drawing of a capybara was placed. He read it aloud, gasping at what the words said. 

“Today, you’ll meet the love of your life.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah right. The last three people who came in were above fifty five.” 

“Never doubt true love, Ryan. You’ll never know what could happen.” Nico playfully punched him in the arm to proceed to the backroom. Ryan didn’t care that he left him alone since he probably had to do his business. Ryan pulled out a pencil and paper to scribble down any remaining thoughts he had. He wished he could be home playing video games or hanging out with his younger brother but no. He had to be at his boring job barely making a sale. 

The bell to the door sounded but Ryan didn’t pay much attention to it. He continued to scribble but he heard footsteps coming closer to him and felt his face blush. He wondered if the person about to ask for help was serious about their order.  

“Excuse me,” a soft spoken voice said, “where are the mixers?” 

Ryan glanced up and proceeded to blush even more. The girl he was staring at was the prettiest girl he had ever laid his eyes on. She was chubby, but had an angelic face and wore pastel clothing. She seemed to groom herself quite well, and Ryan sniffed a bit of her strawberry pound cake perfume. She was ethereal, to say the least.

“Um..” Ryan mumbled, noticing he had been staring at her for too long, “they’re gonna be on Aisle 7.” The girl thanked him, Ryan blushing at her smile and went her way. 

“Alright i’m back,” Nico zipped up his pants while at the register, “what’d I miss?” 

Ryan didn’t hear anything and refused to look anywhere else other than the beautiful girl across from him. She was looking at the different mixers they had and only pointed at the baby blue, mint and pink ones. 

Nico tilted his head to see what Ryan was looking at. Once he saw the girl, he smirked. 

“Go talk to her.” He pushed his hand against Ryan’s shoulder. 

“Are you crazy?” 

“No, go. Come on man, this is your shot to get your…points.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes but he knew Nico was right. He owed it to himself to talk to this pretty girl. He would never see her again, so what was worth losing? 

“Find everything you’re looking for?” Ryan asked and the girl turned, in a graceful manner.

She smiled at him and for a moment, Ryan thought, she looked at him up and down. But Ryan was probably crazy or way too horny. Maybe a combination of both. 

“I’m doing really well, thank you,” she said, “you guys have a lot of options.” 

“We try,” he said, “but only like fifty people max come in during the day.” 

“That's a shame,” the girl pouted, “you guys have an amazing variety. I love this place.” 

“You often come to kitchen appliance stores?” Ryan asked and as soon as he did, he regretted it. The girl seemed taken aback by the question. He didn’t mean to fluster her. He was just curious. 

“I’m shopping to make a cake for my aunt’s funeral.” And just like that, Ryan wished he had taken back his question. “She loved baking and I want to make her something really special.” 

“I’m sure whatever you make,” Ryan said in a soft tone, “she’ll love it. Wherever she is.” 

The girl looked at him in those special looks of love. The one where you gaze in the other’s eyes, not caring about what you look like inside the pupils. Like you can never glance away from them. Her eyes flicked to his lips but she glanced down to read his name badge. “Thank you, Ryan.” 

“Anytime,” he said, realizing he needed to ask something, “what’s your name?” 

“It's Amaranth. But you can just call me Amy.” 

“Anytime Amy.” He said and neither of them moved. They just enjoyed each other’s presence. Maybe the fortune teller was right. Maybe for the first time, Ryan can experience love with Amy. He just had to give it a chance.