Supermarket(33)

“Hey there, handsome.” I looked up, and Mia was a few feet away, heading my direction.

I grinned from ear to ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just walking my—”

I looked down and . . . there was the end of the leash, but no dog. Bennett was gone! My stomach dropped.

“Bennett?! Bennett!” I yelled. “Oh, no, he must have gotten loose from his collar when I wasn’t looking!”

“Oh my god, Flynn, I’m sorry!” she said, examining the end of the leash that still had the part that clips on the red collar. It was perfectly intact. “I wonder how he slipped out?”

“I don’t know, but let’s look for him, quick!”

We spent the next hour searching everywhere. I had wanted a dog my entire life and when I finally got one, we instantly bonded. Bennett was my main companion. He kept me sane. He really was a best friend. And now he was gone! I felt helpless, but there was nothing more to be done, so we decided to head back to my apartment with the hope that he may have returned.

When we reached my front door, any optimism I had vanished. Mia held my hand sweetly as I opened the door, and we made our way up the stairwell and into my apartment. After sliding my key in the hole and twisting the knob, we were in.

“Look, I know this sucks,” Mia said. “But I’m sure he will come back soon. And you might not want to hear it, but worrying won’t do you any good, baby.”

Looking into her beautiful brown eyes, I knew she was right. Just then, she peered over my shoulder to my record collection.

“Oh wow, Destroyer!” she said, moving toward the couch and my records. “I love him. He’s so weird and different.”

I told her I felt exactly the same way.

“Have you heard Poison Season?” I asked.

“Of course!” she responded. “Have you heard Five Spanish Songs?”

I smiled and looked down. “Yeah, I mean, I heard it, but . . . I didn’t exactly understand it, given the language barrier and all.” We both laughed. She was getting excited, saying how Destroyer’s Rubies was their best record. We were nerding out hard. I’d never found a girl who was on my level with music.

“Do you listen to Tame Impala?” she asked.

“No, never heard of them,” I said, shaking my head.

“You’re kidding me!! You haven’t listened to Currents?!?” she yelled.

“Haha, nah, I haven’t. Is it any good?”

She stared blankly at me.

“Is it any good? ‘Is it ANY GOOD?’ HE SAYS! It’s amazing, Flynn. A true modern classic! I’ll have to grab you a copy from the Vinyl Village.”

“Oh, I love that place!” I exclaimed, grabbing a twelve-inch from the middle of the pile. I carefully freed the vinyl from its sleeve and set it on the record player, dropping the needle in the groove. “Have you ever heard this gem?”

The music spilled softly from the speakers. “This one’s called ‘Yeah Right’ from Toro Y Moi’s album What For?,” I said. The lamp in the corner of the room dimly lit the right side of her body as she hugged herself, smiling and swaying side to side, her eyes closed. “Mmmmm,” she said as if she had bitten into her grandmother’s freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. “I like this one,” she whispered.

The sun was setting outside the window, the clouds cascading into another vanilla sky.

This reminded me of the lighter Frank had secretly returned to Kurtis.

“Toro Y Moi, he’s really special,” I told her. “I love his stuff. I wish I could make music like this . . . hell, music in general,” I thought out loud. “That would be just amazing.”

She opened her eyes and put her arms around my shoulders, and we began to slow dance as if we were in junior high.

“You can do anything you want,” she said.

“Yes, you’re right. But I suppose I have other ambitions.”

“Other ambitions . . . you mean to tell me you don’t want to work in a grocery store forever?” she said with a smile.

“Of course not,” I said.

“Why are you there, then?” she continued. “You seem like you don’t belong. You seem . . . I don’t know . . . destined for something bigger.”

I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to tell her about the book, about Frank, about how I was falling for her. But I felt paralyzed. I felt as though I couldn’t say anything.

She laid her head on my chest as we swayed to the song’s BPM.

“Whatever you want to do . . . whatever you sense deep down, I know you’ll be incredible at it, Flynn!”

The song stopped and the needle picked itself up and idly hovered, waiting for another record. I let the silence fill the room, then grabbed a very special one from the back of my box of records. I dropped the needle.

As the crackle from the rotating disc echoed through my apartment, I grabbed Mia. My right hand on her hip, the other interlocked with hers as we began to sway slowly. Her head rested on my chest. I was scared she would feel my heart beating, racing at the thought of kissing her. Even though at this point I already had several times. Every time with her was like the first time.

“I’ll be the one that stays till the end. And I’ll be the one who needs you again, and I’ll be the one that proposes in a garden of roses. And truly loves you long after our curtain closes,” I sang under my breath to the music.