The boy doesn’t cringe away, however. Instead, his smile deepens, clearly amused.
“Well, be careful around these tables,” he says, tapping his hand against the wood, “We’ve designed them around the store like an obstacle course. Wouldn’t want you tripping on anymore.”
He winks.Winks. My stomach does a somersault and I realise he’s teasing me. Joking with me.
Falling in love with me…Oh mygoshJaslene, let’s not be silly.
I almost giggle at my delusional thoughts but instead of making a fool of myself, I return his smile, baffled.
“I’ll try not to,” I stammer out.
“Well, I’ve got to get back to work, but you give me a call if you knock anymore of these over, okay? Just make sure my head is up here.”
He points at his temple, a small smirk gracing his lips. Then, he bends down, gathering a box of books into his arms (he’s strong, nice to know, very nice) and saunters away.
My eyes follow his figure, until I’m broken from my daze as Diane and Kiara press themselves on either side of my hip, their fingers clutching my arm.
“That’s your boy!” Diane hisses into my ear, her excitement pouring onto me.
Kiara slaps my arm, raising her voice into a small squeal.
“You guys were totally flirting just then.”
“Next time, get a room,” Diane adds, and they both giggle.
I swat their hands away, trying to compose myself, to settle the sheepish grin on my face. It’s too hard though, and I soonfeel myself getting carried away by their equally delusional thoughts over the meet-cute.
“This is the one that’s going to make your family forget all about the Martin guy,” Kiara says.
“Marlon,” I correct, to which Diane says, “Who cares about him!”
And she’s right, who cares about Marlon and whether Kiara got his name right. The important thing is, I finally have a reason for my family to forget all about Marlon.
Even more importantly, I finally had my meet-cute, at 18 years old, the one I’d been searching for all my life.
Once the orange sky begins to fold over into a dark hue, it’s my sign to head home. I’ve still got that one-hour glorious train ride ahead of me. At the station, I say my goodbyes to Kiara and Diane, who both luckily live just twenty minutes away.
To no surprise, the platform is scattered with an array of corporate businessmen, women, university students and high school students. Most of them tiptoe the line that is meant to separate us from the tracks.
“Excuse me,excuseme.”
I’m a broken record as I push past clusters of people, before settling against a pole at the end of the platform. At least here it was densely populated.
The train still has a couple more minutes to arrive, so I pull outTo All The Boys I’ve Loved Beforeand flick through the last few pages, when Lara Jean and Peter finally get their real love story underway. Even though I’ve read this book too many times to count, it always brings butterflies to my stomach.
The face of the boy from the bookstore suddenly appears as I read, and I can’t help but imagine it’s us both in the novel.
The distant sound of the train approaching snaps me from my thoughts, and I secure my foothold on the platform.
The train comes to a stop, and the doors open, just a metre from where I’m standing. That’s when the crowd around me surges forward.
A high school student nudges my body shamelessly, while another business woman swiftly side steps forward, in front of me. I huff in frustration, shouldering past a sweaty businessman, and finally manage to get myself onto the carriage.
It's too late, the inside is already crowded, meaning all the good seats are probably taken now. I debate just staying where I’m standing, but my calves protest at the thought. I make my way toward the stairs, deciding to go to the upper floor of the train carriage. At first glance, my worst fears are confirmed. There are hardly any seats. I give the carriage a scan once more, searching for just that one free spot.
Yes! There’s one!
Right toward the middle, there’s a free spot beside a boy leaning against the window. The others must’ve missed it. I waste no time and scurry forward before someone else takes it. When I reach the seat, there’s a tote bag on the free seat. Howannoying.
