Survival Of The Fittest

Gwen had agreed to go out for gelato...

Yay!

Maynard, say something!

"There's someplace downtown that sells it, I think. It's really flash, uh...I think it's near the movie theatre. But, y'know, if there's somewhere else you wanna go to then I'd be fine with that, y'know..."

He trailed off, and began wringing his hands together. He was glad for an interjection on Gwen's part, a reply to his inquiry of her favourite genre.

"Romance, huh? Yeah, those are pretty cool, I guess. A bit too fluffy for me, but I agree with you on the 'nothing in common' thing. I guess holding hands is pretty cool though. Uh..."

Maynard, stop it...just...stop...talking...

...

Where did that thing about holding hands come from anyway?

...

Reply to her question, silly!

"Well, fantasy's my favourite, really. Epic fantasy. It's really all I talk about in book club at school. Uh...it's that, really. But there are some series that have so many mixtures of genres that I guess there's nothing that I wouldn't say no to, y'know?"

Gwen listened to Maynard talking. He seemed to have a very thoughtful personality, though he had a tendancy to go on odd trains of thought frequently. Still, it spiced up conversation, and Gwen was enjoying talking with him.

She was concerned about his nerves; perhaps he suffered social anxiety? She felt bad for him if that was the case. Hopefully she could find a way to help.

"Yeah, I like lots of books. It's really more about the book than the genre. I just tend to enjoy romances, I guess." She walked around to face him directly.

"Here, have my number. Try not to call at night, but if you want to meet up for food, that'd be nice!" She quickly plucks a sheet of paper from her bag, jots down her phone number, and holds it out for the boy.

A number?

How odd. He'd never been placed in such a position before.

"Oh, thanks!"

He grabbed at it. Somewhat aggressively, for some reason. Blinking, he hurriedly tucked it away into his breast pocket, and mumbled an apology.

"I...uh...sorry...uh...so, um...uh, why shouldn't I call at night? Not that I intended to, 'cause you told me not to, but, I'm just curious...but...you don't have to, if you don't want to. I don't mean to pry. But, thank you for your number! I'll be sure to keep it safe!"

He blinked, and shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"So, what now?"

Gwen laughed. She quickly froze, though; she hadn't meant to be rude, but something about the way Maynard spoke had struck her as wildly amusing. Gwen was slightly concerned with his immediate claiming of her number.

"Oh, I'm sorry! But yeah, nighttime I'm either studying, doing homework or otherwise am occupied. But beyond that, it should be fine. Ring me up if you want to hang out sometime!"

Gwen turned and faced the sunlit doorway. "I've gotta get going; I'll see you later, Maynard?" Gwen smiled, feeling the warm light on her face as she walked out.

[[Gwen O'Connor's story continues elsewhere]]

Maynard nodded at Gwen's reply, and waved as she left the bookstore, bag in hand. It was a pity that she had to leave so suddenly, but he was partly glad for her departure: it was brilliant that he'd gained a friend, but another minute more and he might've screwed everything up. Something about Gwen made his heart flutter.

With no other customers left in the store but himself, Maynard felt slightly guilty at his own inevitable departure, and decided not to leave empty handed. He plucked a decorated bookmark from a nearby rack and gently placed a coin in the elderly woman's hand before rushing out, a beam etched upon his face.