I wander into the comic book store, dressed a bit more casually than I usually do, but still wearing a classy outfit in case I run into someone I know. But realistically, I know I won’t because I don’t really hang out with people who would frequent comic book stores. Liking comic books doesn’t really fit my vibe, so not many people - not even my closest friends- really know that I like coming to comic book stores. Some know that I read them sometimes, but none of them have expressed enough of an interest for me to go into detail about my love for comics. And I kind of like it that way. It’s an interest, a pastime, a hobby if you will, that is just mine. I can relax while reading comics and be by myself in peace. Sometimes I do think it would be nice to talk with someone who shares my passion, but I’m fine on my own as well.
I’m casually looking around the store, browsing the shelves. I already asked and they don’t have the new issue of my favorite comic yet, which is a shame, but I’ll just have to find something else.
At the back of the store, in one of the book aisles, I spot a series I’ve been meaning to read but that I haven’t had the time to do it yet. Unfortunately, it’s on the top shelf, which I can’t reach since I’m so short, and I’m even shorter because I skipped my usual high heels and actually wore sneakers as part of my more casual, but still classy outfit. I look around, but can’t see a stepping stool or ladder or anything useful. As I’m doing a pathetic last ditch effort of trying to reach it, full well knowing it physically isn’t possible, someone walks up behind me and takes the comic down.
“This one?”, he says holding the comic. I turn around as I’m about to take the comic and thank him, but stop mid-word as I see who it is. It’s Wyatt. What’s going on? How is he everywhere? Is he a stalker or have I just never noticed him before? I come to this store all the time and I’ve never seen him, but that doesn’t mean much considering that he apparently is in the same major as me and has been since the start, so my observation skills can’t really be trusted.
We look at each other a bit awkwardly. He blushes again, he seems to do that easily. It’s kind of cute.
“Thank you”, I say as I finally take the book he’s still holding out. I discreetly look around to see if anyone I know is here, but it’s just us two. Alone. At the back of the comic book store, behind the last aisle. Wyatt is still blushing, and can’t quite look me in the eyes, as he fidgets with his hands, as one does when nervous. I am a bit taken aback by seeing him so suddenly, but I recover quickly and act like everything is fine, not awkward at all.