Catching the Stars

 

~Flore, East Italah: 2016 U.E~

 

        Lita Carter was officially bored out of her skull and she still had another two hours before the store closed. If she did not do something productive, she was sure her brain would rot. Working at a small local bookstore had been a dream come true, since she was an avid reader of just about anything she could get her hands on. But it was the middle of the week and most customers came in on the weekends, giving her at present nothing to do.

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        She now regretted having already completed all of her assignments and papers for this week’s homework. She had taken inventory twice now. Just about all the books in the store she had already read (some more than once). And she was convinced that if she did one more round of cleaning, she would wear holes into everything trying to scrub off nonexistent spots. 

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        She wished she had someone to text at least. But since starting graduate school two months ago, she’d had little time for making friends. And besides that, there was nothing interesting going on in her life to talk about. Getting a Masters in Museum Studies was not the most thrilling conversation starter. 

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        Glancing up, she saw her reflection in the storefront window and almost laughed at the bored look that was on her face. She knew that the only reason the store manager had hired her had been a marketing ploy to attract young people (in particular young men) into the store, but the expression on her face would certainly have scared off any potential customer.

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        Lita had no illusions about her looks. She knew she was pretty. Not in a conventional sense, but still pleasing to look at. Long ,wavy red-brown hair, pale skin with an annoying splatter of freckles near her eyes, and figure reminiscent of a 1950s bombshell (which made clothes shopping a tad bit difficult for her). But it was her eyes that were her best feature. Big, and round with long eyelashes, any color would have made them lovely. But it was the color itself that was the most striking part.

 

        For Lita had pure blue eyes.

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        They were not some shade of gray, purple or green, but truly blue; the color of the sky on the brightest day of summer. Growing up, she had received many questions about whether or not her eyes were that actual pigment and she always had to answer, yes, they were natural. No, she was not wearing contacts. She had not had them dyed and they had not been exposed to some random chemical or radiation.

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        But they weren’t the only ones with questions. For years Lita had done research on the subject but had never found anyone that had eyes quite the same color as hers. Finally, she had attributed it to random mutation and left it at that. 

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        A sudden movement outside the store finally snapped her out of her daze. Focusing beyond her reflection, she saw a young man, a little older than herself, standing outside the store. What had caught her attention was the unnatural color of the man’s hair. At first glance, she thought he was one of those people who’s hair was graying early; but upon closer inspection, she realized the color of his hair wasn’t caused by an interspersing of white among black; it was actually gray! Even his eyebrows were a dark ash color. 

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        He had been looking down at something in his hand, the cut of his hair blocking some of his face, and glanced up at the window for a moment before returning his gaze to his hand. Then he frowned and looked up again, directly at her. Even from a distance, she could see he had brown eyes, a strange contrast with his hair. He quickly strolled into the shop before she had a chance to put a name to the expression that had passed over his face.

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        “May I help you?” she asked when he approached the counter. A confused look appeared on the man’s face.

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        “Don’t you recognize me?” he finally said, in a strange accent that seemed to be a mix of North and South; very enunciated, but with a gritty undertone. She looked at him carefully, but nothing besides the thought of him being very handsome struck her. His face somehow conveyed a sly intelligence with his high cheek bones and almond shaped eyes. His build, however, seemed to be that of a dancer; muscular but still willowy.

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        “I’m normally pretty good with faces...” she mused, mentally going through the fellow students of her classes for a match.

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        “But you don’t know me?” he finished.

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        “I’m sorry, no. Have we met before?” she asked kindly. She was sure she would have recognized him, considering how attractive he was. Though it was the rather prominent scar on his chin that made her sure she would have remembered him. It almost looked as though he had been cut with a blade of some kind...

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        “Incredible...” he mumbled, looking at her very intently. Lita normally would have felt awkward about his staring, but she found herself staring right back. Now that she thought about it, there was something about this man that seemed... familiar. Like the memory of a childhood dream or deja vu; a sense of something at the edge of her peripheral vision that faded away the moment she looked at it straight on. 

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        He seemed to sense her thoughts and reached out to touch her face...

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        And then all hell broke loose.

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TO BE CONTINUED...