If I wasn’t imagining things, it seemed like he was trying to study me in the same way I was studying him.
A bead of sweat rolled down my temple, and I swallowed.
Was he going to introduce himself to me? Because I was too shy to talk to him; that was for certain.
For a moment, everything in me hoped that he would start talking to me. He had this commanding presence that I couldn’t put my finger on; something in my head blocked me from addressing him. Maybe it was the way he stood up with perfect posture, even when he was at ease and bored in line. Maybe it was the way his hands were huge, like small dinner plates. Or maybe, it was this undeniable air of authority that was coming off of him. Even being in this stranger’s presence made me feel like I was walking around someone who wielded a great deal of power.
This unspoken authority that leaked from this man’s pores was in direct contrast to the authority that Mrs. Carr just tried to exercise over me, by making me feel like I was less. She was someone who tried to fight tooth and nail for any kind of scrap of respect; in the time I’d known her, that much was clear.
But this stranger… he oozed authority. He’d earned it somehow.
I had to know how.
Butterflies were crawling around and fluttering in my stomach as I tried to muster up the courage to utter a word to him, but all I could do was avert my eyes.
I clutched the book tighter to my body, as if I could use it as a shield.
Then, just as the customer in front of me stepped up to check out, a deep voice behind me spoke.
“What book have you got there?”
I nearly jumped as the dulcet tone washed over me, and something about the way that the consonants melded in with the vowels made me want to tell him everything.
His voice alone was like a truth serum.
I turned to face him, and then looked up into his eyes meekly. I was startled to see that they were a wild dark green color.
“I um…” I stammered out, looking up at this stranger. “It’s… it’s kind of private.”
What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just talk to this guy? But then again, him wanting to see my book was pretty prying.
“Private, huh?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright then…”
There was a beat of silence as I waited for the stranger to continue the conversation. The silence stretched out awkwardly and I didn’t know what to say.
Then right as the customer in front of me finished up checking out, the bright-eyed cashier looked over at me.
“Uh… nice to meet you.” I said to the giant.
I was kicking myself at coming across so awkward.
Then to my surprise, the stranger chuckled. It was this hearty sound that seemed like grumbling at first, but then I realized he was laughing.
He was… happy. He thought I was ridiculous. I was a joke to him.
My face turning bright red, I pulled the book out from under my arm and stepped up to the cashier. I was grateful to get away from this guy; this guy with the powerful presence that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
I set the book down on the counter with a quiet snap and scanned the cashier’s face for any kind of reaction. The front of the book was inscribed with a cursive red title called “Obey,” and had a whip visible on it, along with some leather-studded straps. Red rose petals peppered the edges of the image and the back.
The cashier raised her sand-colored eyes to look at mine with what I interpreted to be a questioning look.
But I was distracted by the stranger who’d been behind me in line; he walked up to the cashier next to me and began his check out process. He was slapping some magazines on the table in front of him, and then he stole a sideways look at me. Our eyes finally met.
Even though I’d taken a quick glance at his eyes before, there was something about this time that cut through to me to my very core. It was like I was being pierced with some kind of arrow.
“Credit or Debit?” chirped the cashier from in front of me.
“Er… what?” I asked, shifting my gaze back to her.
There was a little paper bag sitting neatly in front of me; she’d already gotten the book wrapped and bagged up for me.
“Um. Credit.” I said, pulling out my card and blushing.
I knew that my mother would see the charge for this on her account; I’d probably have to answer some questions. It was worth it.
When I was done swiping the thick metal card and asking for the receipt in the bag, I turned to leave the store. To a wave of surprising disappointment, the stranger had already left.
I hustled out of the store in the hopes that I might catch him; that I might be able to get any more clues about him like where he was going, what type of car did he drive, or anything. Anything that might give me a hint to finding him again.
But there was nothing. He’d vanished into thin air.
When I got into the driver’s seat of my mother’s Audi and closed the door, I sat the paper bag down in the passenger seat next to me. Placing my hands on the wheel, I used this moment to wallow in my regret.
I could have talked to him like a normal person. Had some kind of pleasant conversation at least, gotten his number at best.
Everything about him was a mystery.
As I turned the key in the ignition, I resigned that I’d missed my chance. The chances of ever seeing him again were slim.
Oh well, I thought to myself as I backed out of the neat little parking spot. At least I won’t
