Surprising Returns

Jingle.

"Welcome to Type&Co.!"

Walking through the front entrance like he did a hundred or so times before was nothing new. It shouldn't have been.

Even so, Lenny felt apprehensive as he turned his eyes to the check-out, where three clerks were ringing up customers. A sizable line was formed across from them. Who knew so many people still read physical books?

What he was wholly fixated on, however, were the fingers being shoveled into the noses of said clerks as they took in books and tapped away on their POS monitors one-handedly. All while their customers chatted, made awkward conversation, shot away the breeze with them like it was just any other Tuesday.

Lenny couldn't hold back a chortle. "My god, they're still doing it..."

"Doing what?"

The out of the blue inquiry shook Lenny dry. Before him was a girl with a backpack. Her jeans had colorful square patches, and on her upper body was a green jacket with sleeves that went up to her knuckles. If that wasn't circus enough, she had on a medium sized top hat that capped off a curtain of green-dyed, forehead swiped hair, which graduated through differnet hues of the aforementioned color. While... far from 'ugly', there was an aura around her that clearly labeled her a quirky type. One of those young, big-headed eccentrics, no doubt.

"Uhm." Lenny coughed. "What?"

"That's what I asked you." The girl frowned, tilting her head. "You're weird."

I-I'm weird, huh. Apologizing, Lenny made for the exit. He didn't have time to spend on youngsters who had marijuana for lunch. No offense, of course.

"Layla, right?"

"That's me!"

"Well... I'm sorry but we couldn't find your order today, either. It was the... what was it?"

"Book of Reality."

Lenny stopped mid-door swing.

"Yes. As mentioned, there was only one in stock and... unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be in our current inventory."

"...oh. Okay."

"I'm really, really sorry, miss. If you can come with me to the counter I can give you your refund."

"No no no, that's alright."

"Please, it would be--"

"It's okay, really! Thanks a bunch. There's more to life than paper, am I right?"

Only Layla herself found that funny, apparently. Everyone else just looked at her wondering if she was alright while she laughed in the middle of Type&Co. during the crux of the waning happy hour.

Meanwhile, Lenny's heart beat fast beneath his chest, still frozen below the lintel of the store's entryway. As he shucked his head back to look at 'Layla', she was recovering from her fit just in time to absently move hers his way. By the time she probably would have caught his stare, however, the entrance was one Lenny short, only the swiveling door in his wake.

Thud!

Back in his car, door closed shut, Lenny stared out the windshield in aimless flair for a moment. Then, finally, he looked to the book in the seat beside him, taking steady breaths. Its presence suddenly seemed heavier, more real, somehow. As if the fact that somebody else knew of its existence had shattered his little glass bubble into pieces.

But of course they would.

I didn't order this. Someone else, not me, ordered this 'Book of Reality'. Someone... like...

As a motion caught his eye from the rear mirrors, he slid his gaze over to look. That green-haired girl was stepping out of the bookstore, a lollipop in her hand as she licked at it, clearly satisfied with herself at the sugary acquisition.

...her.

With a swift turn on her heels, she strolled away, to who knew where. Backpack rapping against her tailbone. Not a care in her peppy step.

To the as of yet bright, awaiting, untainted future.

Thinking quickly, Lenny gripped the steering wheel, the sound of the car's chirps becoming embedded into the steadily monotonous background as his eyes followed her.