The movie house management promised everyone free popcorn and new movie stubs for the inconvenience. I took the popcorn, but not the movie stub. I told Angie she could have it because I really wanted to go home, after I made a quick stop at the local bookstore, but I didn’t tell her that part.

I wanted to read a love story that would reinforce my belief in love before it got completely wiped out by the stupid memory of being stuck alone in an elevator. And since the bookstore was open until 11 P.M., I went inside.

I was reading a new Love Stories book in peace when someone suddenly bumped into the arm rest of the large padded chair I was in. “Geez,” I said, looking up from my book. “Would you watch where you’re—“I paused, and then I blinked.

I was looking at the bluest pair of eyes I’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” the owner of those eyes, who also happened to have dark hair and a deep voice, said. He straightened up and smiled, showing me a perfect set of teeth. “I guess I can be clumsy sometimes. It’s just that I’ve never been here before.”

“Okay,” I blurted out, not sure if it was the right reply. Somehow, my mind was suddenly completely blank.

“Hey, maybe you could help me,” he said. “Do you know where I can find an English-French dictionary? I need it for my lit class.”

“Lit class?” I echoed, as in lit class with Mr. Pearson, the teacher I bumped into earlier at my school? He was the only one who taught French literature in our area after all.

“Yeah, I just moved to my grandpa’s place here. I’m from New York City. I start at Buffalo High on Monday and I’ve got this French lit class with some Mr. Pearson.”

“Really?” I said, not believing. What a coincidence. This guy was gonna be in my class! “I’m in that class too.”

“Great,” he said. “I thought I was gonna have a hard time finding friends. I’m Mark Reynolds, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Grace Cameron,” I replied, shaking it.

“Oh, good. You’ve already met,” I heard and saw Mr. Wallace standing over us.

“Mr. Wallace!” I said, surprised. “You know him?”

He laughed. “Of course. Didn’t I saw my grandson was coming from New York to manage the store?”

“You said your son was coming. You never said anything about your grandson,” I said. I couldn’t believe it. He was going to manage the antique store where I worked in everyday after school? I smiled. My luck was definitely improving.

“Haven’t I?” Mr. Wallace said, scratching his head. “I must really be getting old. Anyway, Mark here’s going to be staying with us from now on, since his parents are always moving around.”

“Really, in your house,” I said, my smile widening. I was going to get my boy-next-door after all. Not in the house I expected, but who cared about that at this point?

Mr. Wallace nodded. “Yup. Anyway, I’ll go ahead before I completely forget that his grandmother wants a cookbook for her birthday,” he said as he walked away.

“So, you’re one of the employees in Grandpa’s antique shop?” Mark asked me.

I nodded. “And you’re gonna be our manager?”

He shrugged. “I think my dad just wants me there so I can report to him what’s happening with the store. He thinks it’s not a good investment, but of course Grandpa thinks otherwise.”

“So do we,” I said. “The people of Buffalo, I mean. That store’s been here forever. It’s practically a landmark.”

“I know,” he said, nodding. “But my dad doesn’t understand that. He’s in Sales too. He manages one of the Porsche Automobiles branches in Manhattan. So, you understand why he doesn’t feel any sentimentality about the antique shop.”

“Your dad works for Porsche Automobiles?” I said, close to laughing, remembering the brat whose Porsche hit my car earlier. What a coincidence.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s another reason he wanted me to manage the shop. So I’d know something about business, like him,” he said. “Besides, I don’t really want to go to China with my mom.”

“Why’s your mom going to China?” I asked curiously.

“She’s in advertising,” he explained. “That’s where her next contract is. They finally got Jet Li to endorse something. A big improvement from her last contract, really.”

“Why? What was her last project?”

“For radio,” he said. “Some fabric softener thing. I don’t really hear it much.”

I laughed out loud. “Was it Vernell?” I said, referring to the brand of the fabric softener advertisement I woke up to.

“Yeah, that’s it!” he said, smiling. “Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “It just, all makes sense now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What does?”

“Nothing,” I said, smiling. Then I stood up. “Now, weren’t you looking for a dictionary?”

He nodded. “Yeah, do you know where I can find one?”

“Sure do. It’s at the ground floor,” I said. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yeah, could you?” he said, his eyes sparkling. “I’m really bad at finding stuff.”

“No problem,” I said, leaving the book I had been reading on the chair and leading him to the elevator.

“Thanks,” he said. “Oh, and if you’re not doing anything else, do you want to go out for pizza or something? All of a sudden I’m hungry.”

I smiled. Finally, a cute guy was asking me out! “Sure,” I said. “I’d love to,” I told him and pushed the elevator button to go down.

“Great,” he said, smiling as well. “Oh, hey, if you don’t mind, can we just take the stairs? I kinda have a thing about elevators. Ever since I got stuck alone inside one when I was a kid.”

I laughed again and smiled. “Don’t worry,” I said, walking away from the elevator and deciding that it was a great day after all. “I know the feeling.”

END
9.12.03 17:20

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Author's Note:There. Hope you all liked it, and please leave me a review, even if you didn't.
I'm really more used to writing fanfiction. But anyway, check out this author here at FictionPress - Paranoiaserf. She rocks! Thanks again!