Chapter 10 – Daph's POV

Here, There and Everywhere

https://youtu.be/xdcSFVXd3MU

I am wearing what I like to call my naughty peasant outfit, which is essentially just a sun dress without underwear. And a big ass hat.

I'm sitting in my car and I'm debating whether I should do this or not.

I've lost my mind.

A sane person would not be doing this. A sane person would not be contemplating going in a flea market and cornering a hot guy. A sane person would move the hell on, or go up to that guy like a normal person and try to have a normal conversation and maybe ask for his number, or better yet, his stupid name.

I don't want to do any of these normal things. I don't want him to ask me my name or why I'm doing this. I don't know why.

I don't want this to be something normal.

But I can't tell this guy that I don't want anything real with him because anything real is scary when it comes to relationships. Anything real can be broken. Anything real is fragile. Anything you get invested in, really invested in hurts when it crumbles.

I'm not madly in love with Fred so he's never dangerous to me. I can go up to him and kiss him anytime.

Flea Market Guy is dangerous. I know literally nothing about him except the way he kisses. That's all I know and I'm already kind of obsessed.

If I knew him, really knew him... maybe I'd absolutely hate him, and the butterflies in my stomach would die an awful death.

But maybe he's be even more perfect... and then I'd be signing up for a big heartbreak.

So, this plan is safer, stupid, but safer.

I should star my car again and drive away. I should leave this place and forget about this dude.

I should... Ugh, I have no idea.

I grab my phone and dial the first person I think about.

The second Vanessa answers, I say a big, "Hey guuuuuurl,"

"Oh my god, is Daphnee Harrison, the Daphnee Harrison calling me right now?" Van says, like I've finally deigned to acknowledge her existence, like if Paul singled me out in a crowd.

I roll my eyes at her antic. "Come on."

"We've literally not talked in weeks," she presses.

I feel a little bit bad. "I was away," I answer sheepishly. Yeah, scratch that, I feel a lot bad.

"Uh huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, sure, sure," she replies, not impress.

I feel bad about Vanessa often. I get that changing school meant she had better opportunities for her future, and it's great for her, but it's difficult to keep her in the loop if she's not here. I don't want to not call her for weeks, but sometimes life and all my silly preoccupations get in the way.

"Once a drama queen, always a drama queen," I tease her.

She ignores my quip and asks, "How are you?"

I ignore the question and say, "Yes or no."

"Huh?"

"Pick one. Yes or no."

"Yeeees..." Vanessa drawls, a little unsure.

I nod. "Okay." I'll go in then. I'll do the stupid thing.

"Did I just tell you to go kill someone? Or go on a pilgrimage?"

I'm going on a somewhat religious exploration to kill a hot guy with my mouth so, sure. "Little bit of both."

"You okay?" Vanessa inquires again.

I chuckle. "I don't think okay is ever the right way to describe me, but sure, I'm okay. How about you?"

"I'm glorious," she replies a little too quickly.

I know what her problem must be. It's usually the same one.

"You little boyfriend isn't going out with any girls by the way. As a matter of fact, right now, you'd probably have to fight with Blake Eaton to get his attention," I say, telling her about Tyler.

"Wait, Lexi's Blake?" she asks, confused.

"Yeah, I saw them hanging out together the other day at school, it was kind of eerie."

They were in the hallways pushing each other around and checking something on Blake's phone. If I didn't know any better I would say there was more chance of them dating in the near future than Lexi and Blake.

"Does Lexi know this?"

"Highly doubt it. I don't think Lexi even realizes she likes Blake at this point."

Vanessa snorts. "And even if we keep telling her, she'll never believe us."

"She a special little bean, that one," I agree.

Van laughs. "She is. Our special little bean."

"She'd be lost without us," I point out. I love Lexi but she really wins the palm for unobservant girl of the century. "Well, I'll leave you alone now."

"So you can go kill someone and then go on a pilgrimage to absolve for your sins?"

I make a clicking sound with my cheek. "You know it."

"You're going to have to do some major spilling at some point, I hope you know that?"

I ignore her remark. I know at some point I'll have to spill. But that's not today. "Bye Goldilocks."

"Bye Mama Bear," Vanessa replies, and I can hear the smile in the voice. We both hang up.

Well, she said yes. I have to go in now.

I take a deep breath and get out of my car.

I've done this before. I can do it again. He didn't complain the last time. Hopefully he doesn't complain this time too. And maybe if I kiss him again he'll be really, really bad at it this time around and I'll stop thinking about him all the time.

I walk in the flea market.

Hot Flea Market guy is there, at his booth as usual. He's not alone. There's another guy with him, helping him set up stuff.

Anytime this new guy tries to move the canvas, Flea Market Guy bites him, like literally bites his shoulder and then the other dude slaps him behind the head. It's kind of funny. A little hot too, not gonna lie.

I linger a few tables behind, close enough to hear him, to catch the moment he might leave his table, but far enough that he doesn't see me.

I might totally change my mind. I still think I'm absolutely crazy, so any sign of the heavens that show me I should turn around and never look back, I'll totally follow.

"Records Todd, you can only touch records," Hot Flea Market Guy whines. He's got a fancy camera strapped around his neck and he's taking pictures of the records and the dude with him.

"Why?"

"Your pessimist mojo is going to ruin artists dreams. Keep your hands on the stuff you know."

"Please remember that in the future, next time you want to come over my place."

"Stop fussing around, I just need background pictures, so keep in the record section if you want me to get something decent."

I don't know what they're talking about, and the guy at the table I'm standing in front of looks at me like I'm here to steal stuff, so I move tables.

"Stop being a bitch Todd and smile like you've finally gotten rid of me and I'm out of your life. There's a high probability in that scenario that you've killed me and buried me in an unmarked grave."

After that remark, Todd starts smiling like a lunatic.

"Okay, stop smiling so much. Stop it," Hot Flea Market Guy whines, "STAWP IT!"

They're hitting each other with empty crates now.

They kinda look like two brothers bickering. I don't think they're brothers though, unless one is adopted or they're just stop brothers because Todd is Black and Flea Market Boy is not.

What the hell am I doing? I want to feel like Kate Winslet in Titanic when she turns her head with her big ass hat, like some fancy mysterious broad. Instead right now, I feel like some kind of sexual predator. I have issues. I can never admit doing this to anyone. I'm eavesdropping on him and waiting for him to be alone like some perv in a white van.

I take my hat off and I walk away.

I go to the little food court and buy a pink lemonade.

Sitting at one of the empty tables, I sip on my drink, convincing myself that I'm an idiot and I need to go back to my car.

When I finally get up, mostly clear-headed, I see Hot Flea Market Guy heading for the bathrooms.

He looks like he's holding his hand because it's hurt, but like nothing serious because he's smiling. Maybe something happened while joking around with his friend.

This is my sign. I need to stop overthinking this.

Instead of heading for my car, I follow him.

Luckily, no one but him is in the men's bathroom. He's drying his hand with a paper towel.

He turns when the door closes behind me.

Looking like the textbook definition of surprised he utters a confused, "You?"

I power walk across the room, dropping my hat on the ground. "Sorry about this, there's just something I really need to check," I tell him, before grabbing him by the shirt and crushing my lips against his.