I met him at the book store. He was looking through the desert cookbooks, and I was waiting for him to leave so I could peruse the section he was currently standing in front of.

"I'm sorry miss, could I ask you if you are familiar with baklava?" I took a good look at him. He was pale, thin, and cute in a way. It was how he was dressed that was kind of weird. He wore a flowy white shirt, which was elegant, but not winter attire. I smiled at him.

"No, I'm sorry, I don't know the first thing about baklava." The book store was a few blocks from my place, so I walked over. It was snowing outside and I was dressed in a full parka. To be fair I loved that thing, my mom used to have to hide it come spring because I would refuse to stop wearing it. I was amused by this guy's light shirt and dress pants.

He stared back at the bookshelf, frowning. He had thin lips, but sharp features. His dark hair fell around his face as he leaned in to the books to read up close. It felt rude to just walk away at this point, and besides, I needed that book by his head. I didn't think I could casually grab it when I was the human equivalent of the Michelin man.

"I'm looking for a book for my friend, he told me it has the best baklava recipe. He didn't give me very clear instructions. I have no idea what I am doing." He flung himself away from the shelf. I was shaking my head to myself. How could you find a cookbook out of the many with the supposed 'best' baklava recipe? Why would anyone need a book under these conditions? If you wanted a good recipe you could just google it.

"I can't help you there. Good luck with that." Now that I could fit between him and the shelf, I went for the book I wanted. It was an older print, but my mom swore by it. This Christmas would be the first holiday season we didn't spend together and she wanted me to grab this book and make some recipes at the same time. She had a thing for the solid book, and refused to let me live off of internet recipes. I was just a fan of collecting books.

I snuck a look at the guy again. He was still looking at the books. His eyes were this crazy light blue, or I mean kind of grey to be honest. They actually weren't blue at all but I thought people could only technically have blue eyes. I had to tell myself to look away, and then I rolled my eyes because I realized people can wear contacts. I walked around the shelf, and made my way to the till. The guy was just about forgotten.

I got the idea to go through my book. Something about that guy was so weird, I guess I was looking for answers. I found baklava in the table of contents and turned to the page. For context, the cook was a large hardcover, about two inches thick. My mother's copy was over ten years old. I specifically googled ahead of time if I would find this book here, and this store was great because it did like to carry older books.

I was from up North, a few hours from here. I was staying at the coast for school, and renting on campus but not in residence. It made no sense for me to go home. My mother threw a fit when she realized, but understood I wasn't about to be driving hours away and I did not have the money for a plane ticket. I refused to let my mom buy a plane ticket for me. I didn't value the holiday season too much anyhow.

Baklava was on page 69. I wouldn't think anything of it, only that there was a note stuck in between the pages. The book was sturdy, but it was the fact that the pages were thin and the sheeny type, that made them kind of sticky. The note wouldn't fall out unless you went to this page.

The note was an address. It looked like an address at least. 3666 Morgan 1140 East.

I put two and two together. I turned around to head back to that guy. He was looking through other copies of the book I had in my hands.

"Hey, I think your friend wanted you to have this." I pulled out the note and held it out. His eyes went wide, and he grabbed it. His eyes scanned the note, and he quickly relaxed. I don't know what he expected to be on it but I'm glad it worked out. I do realize I probably saw something I shouldn't have, but whoever wrote that note left it pretty vague so I think I was okay.

The guy must have thought the same thing. "Thank you so much. I realize I've been quite rude and haven't introduced myself yet. I'm David." He held out his hand to shake. I did so.

"No worries. I'm Gwen. Is that what you were looking for?" He smiled, kind of laughing it off, and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked at the note one last time before putting in his pocket.

"Yeah. I think that's what I was supposed to find."