messing with me, fine. That’s my first pick, and yes, I would recommend it to you even if you were a guy.”
“Your first pick?”
“Give me two seconds; we’re not done yet.” He walks around the comic shop, pulling various trades and single issues. I already own most of them, which should maybe not impress me, but it does. When he pulls my favorite comic, a super-obscure indie book you pretty much have to be deep into the scene to have even heard of, my heart beats a little faster. Did it just get hot in here, or . . . ?
He walks back with a little smile, tapping his finger on it. “This one is a little out-there, but give it a chance. It’s worth it.”
“I own it. I love it. I have a signed copy.” His face lights up as the smile turns into a full-on grin that stretches across his face, and oh my god, he has a dimple.
“Yeah? Not many people have even heard of it.”
“I told you my—”
“Pull list is bigger than mine. Yeah, yeah, got it. So? How’d I do?”
“Okay, I guess.” I laugh. “But now you have to put it all away before Vera gets back, and I need to finish organizing the books for tomorrow. I’d hurry if I were you; she hates when the store’s a mess.”
The little bell over the door jingles, and both our heads whip toward the entrance. Ridley darts to put the books away, and I swear he’s still grinning, but it’s hard to tell from the way he’s hunched over by the racks.
“Ridley! You’re just in time,” Vera says as she bustles by us with bags of takeout. “You like Chinese food, right?”
Tuesday-night Chinese in the back room is a weekly tradition. Vera barters with the owner of the Chinese restaurant next door. We keep him in comics, and he hooks us up with dinner every time my stepmom delivers them. Usually I’m rushing here from my lesson to get some before it’s gone, so I’m pumped to have first dibs tonight.
“I should go,” Ridley says, sliding the last comic back in its place.
“Nonsense, come eat,” Vera insists, and this, this is why she picks up so many strays. Vera and her stellar business sense. I mean, people love when they come to get their holds and find out they weren’t sorted yet because everybody was too busy eating takeout, or that their sticky note with new requests was used as a makeshift napkin. I roll my eyes and follow my stepmom anyway, because Chinese food.
Ridley hesitates until I raise my eyebrows, and then he follows. He trips over the little half step between the back room and the store and then squeezes his eyes shut when I giggle. Okay, fine, it’s definitely cute how easily he gets embarrassed. And if I had any extra time to “push the boundaries,” maybe I would spend a little of it finding new and clever ways to make him blush.
But I don’t. I can barely keep up with the boy that lives in my phone. Who still hasn’t texted me since this morning, by the way.
“So?” Vera says, pulling cans of soda and white takeout boxes from the greasy paper bags. “Did our guest pass inspection?”
Ridley watches as I wave my hand in a so-so gesture. “It was touch and go for a minute, but he did all right in the end.”
Vera shakes her head before looking at Ridley. “Jubi doesn’t always trust my judgment when it comes to kids hanging out here. If she’s giving you the all clear, you must be doing something right. Now sit, eat.”
I kick a chair toward him with my foot, and he looks up when it bangs into his shin. “Sit.” I shove my fork into a pile of white rice. “Unless you want me to change my mind about you.”
Vera laughs, reaching for the box of crab rangoon. I smack her hand. “Not until he sits. It’s rude.”
Ridley stares at me for a second, watching the exchange with this sort of confused expression, and then he grabs the chair