Delirium - Lauren Oliver [84]
For the first time in my life I’ve done something for me and by choice and not because somebody told me it was good or bad. As Alex walks through the store, I think that there’s an invisible thread tethering us together, and somehow it makes me feel more powerful than ever before.
Finally Alex comes up to the counter with a pack of gum, a bag of chips, and a root beer.
“Will that be all?” I say, careful to keep my voice steady. But I can feel the color rising to my cheeks. His eyes are amazing today, almost pure gold.
He nods. “That’s all.”
I ring him up, my hands shaking, desperate to say something more to him but worried that Jed will hear. At that moment another customer comes in, an older man who has the look of a regulator. So I count out Alex’s change as slowly and carefully as I can, trying to keep him standing in front of me for as long as possible.
But there are only so many ways you can count change for a five-dollar bill. Eventually I pass him his change. Our hands connect as I place the bills in his palm, and a shock of electricity goes through me. I want to grab him, pull him toward me, kiss him right there.
“Have a great day.” My voice sounds high-pitched, strangled. I’m surprised I can even get the words out.
“Oh, I will.” He shoots me his amazing, crooked smile as he backs up toward the door. “I’m going to the Cove.”
And then he’s gone, pivoting out into the street. I try to watch him go, but the sun blinds me as soon as he’s out the door and he turns into a winking, blurry shadow, wavering and disappearing.
I can’t stand it. I hate thinking of him weaving through the streets, getting farther and farther away. And I have five more hours to get through before I’m supposed to meet him. I’ll never make it. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I duck around the counter, peeling off the apron I’ve been wearing since dealing with a leak in one of the freezer cases.
“Jed, grab the register for a second, okay?” I call.
He blinks at me confusedly. “Where are you going?”
“Customer,” I say. “I gave him the wrong change.”
“But—,” Jed starts to say. I don’t stop to hear his objections. I can imagine what they’ll be, anyway. But you counted his change for five minutes. Oh well. So Jed will think I’m stupid. I can live with it.
Down the street Alex is paused on the corner, waiting for a city truck to grumble past.
“Hey!” I shout out, and he turns. A woman pushing a stroller on the other side of the street stops, raises her hand to shield her eyes, and follows my progress down the street. I’m going as fast as I can, but the pain in my leg makes it difficult to do more than hobble along. I can feel the woman’s gaze pricking up and down my body like a series of needles.
“I gave you the wrong change,” I call out again, even though I’m close enough to him now to speak normally. Hopefully it will get the woman off my back. But she keeps watching us.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I whisper, when I catch up to him. I pretend to press something into his hand. “I told you I’d meet you later.”
He moves his hand easily to his pocket, picking up seamlessly on our little charade, and whispers back, “I couldn’t wait.”
Alex waggles his hand in my face and looks stern, like he’s scolding me for being careless. But his voice is soft and sweet. Again I have the sensation that nothing else is real—not the sun, or the buildings, or the woman across the street, still staring at us.
“There’s a blue door around the corner, in the alley,” I say quietly as I back away, raising my hands like I’m apologizing. “Meet me there in five. Knock four times.” Then, more loudly, I say, “Listen, I’m really sorry. Like I said, it was an honest mistake.”
Then I turn and limp back to the store. I can’t believe what I’ve just done.