I woke up with a cricked neck and a loud banging coming from the kitchen. I rub my neck of the sharp, shooting pain as I get up off the couch. I don't really remember what happened last night, the last thing I remember doing was writing in my notebook. I check the time and see that it's seven in the morning, which means all that banging in the kitchen is Teddy making breakfast before Nick goes to work.

I have class today at noon, Saturdays are one of two days a week I have classes this semester. It's a composition class that bores me to death, I just want to write what I want to write and that's all. I'm sure it will be of some use to me in the future, but in the here and now, I don't see the point.

I shuffle into the kitchen and see a tin of muffins resting on top of the stove cooling off. Teddy's at the sink scrubbing dishes. When I step into her line of sight she nearly jumps out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ, Pheebs don't do that." She gasps as her hand rests over her chest.

I stifle a snicker as I pour myself a cup of coffee, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." I sit at the old wooden table that used to be Nick's parents. It's covered in stains and scratches, I think it's endearing but Nick insists it gets replaced as soon as the funds become available.

I take small sips of the dark roasted coffee and watch as Teddy finishes drying the last dish. "Where is Nick?" I ask between sips.

"He had to go into work early, he should be home by three today." She says with a faint irritation behind her voice as she takes the muffins from the tin. Nick is usually free on weekend mornings but within the last month he has started taking more shifts. There's some irony behind the fact that Teddy is frustrated by this but does the same thing.

"Sounds familiar, taking extra shifts," I taunt her. She shoots me daggers as I shift in my seat. The look on her face tells me she had a long morning. "Ted, everything okay?"

She shakes her head as she sets the plate down on the table and takes a seat next to me. "No, I'm not okay. Pheebs, I'm not ready to be a mom. I'm going to be terrible at it."

My jaw falls to the floor and my brows knit together tightly, "What? Teddy, what are you talking about? You're going to be a great mom. Plus, you have Nick and I. Bob too. You have plenty of people that are going to be here for you and your baby."

"Nick and I have no money saved, this baby is going to have nothing when it comes." She says as she runs her hands through her hair and her eyes become glassy.

"Ted, you've got everything ready. You have diapers and a bed. That's really all you need right now." I sling my arm around her shoulder and pull her close to me, "I love you Teddy, you've got this."

She sniffles and nods softly, "Love you too Pheebs. Thank you."

We eat our muffins and talk about all the stuff we can do to relieve some stress from Teddy. We decided that she's going to stop taking so many shifts and focus on herself and I am going to try to pick up some more shifts at Darcy's so that bills can still get paid.

She got ready and left for her shift at Tiff's. I cleaned up what was left to be done in the kitchen and got ready for the day. I put on a pair of jeans and a white mock neck with a leather jacket and my docs. My honey blonde hair is clipped back with a black hair claw.

I grabbed my notebook and my laptop and shoved them in my backpack. I call Nick and ask him if he can drop me off at school while he's on his lunch break. I write in my notebook as I wait on the porch for Nick to pick me up.

'The purpose of anything is for the memory, we all want to be remembered. It's the key to eternal life,our chance to leave a piece of ourselves behind. If nothing we do is worth remembering, then we are nothing. No memories can be benevolent though, some things are better left forgotten. Sometimes all we want to do is forget, or even to be forgotten ourselves.'

Nick honks the horn and I shut my notebook and run to his car. I hop in and thank him about a hundred times as he backs out of the driveway and speeds down the slick road. There's still some residual rain left over from the storm yesterday that has caused a fog and mist here.

I watch out the window as the hazy town flys past. So many people from my highschool class packed up as soon as they could to hightail it out of here, most of my friends are across the country. I never understood that, why they wanted to leave so badly. Maybe I'm just sheltered but I just don't see myself living anywhere else or wanting to for that matter.

Nick drops me off at the small community college just outside our town and I head inside. It's an old church that's been renovated into a little literary campus. It's very gothic and dark but its atmosphere fosters creativity, for me at least. I walked down the hall into a lecture hall that used to be where the sermons were given. I'm the first one to class as usual so I find a seat and unpack my stuff before going back to my notebook.

Students came in in shifts, most of them with friends they've made while here. I tend to stay to myself, especially in academic settings. I'm too focused on my work to socialize. The professor finally arrives and class begins.

He spent nearly the entire time giving a lecture, I couldn't tell you what it was about because his voice was so monotone and ignorable that I couldn't stay focused. I just kept jotting down random notes and ideas in my notebook. He finished speaking and I didn't even realize until my peers started shuffling out. I finished what I was writing and swung my backpack to sit one shoulder and I headed out.

Sam, a guy I've had a few courses with, came up to me and asked if I needed a ride home. I took him up on the offer and hopped in his beaten down red truck. If a golden retriever was a person, it would be Sam. He's got this mop of blonde hair and brown eyes, his personality is so bright and bubbly. You'd think he'd have had a girlfriend by now but he doesn't, if I wasn't so self-sabotaging I would have asked him out by now. I ruined any chance of that ever happening last year, when I called him my brother. It's probably for the better, he wouldn't want to be with someone like me anyways. He should be with a girl that he can take home to his parents that will blow them away, I know I wouldn't do that.

We sing along to some older music, mostly classic rock, on the way to my house. He drops me off in the driveway and tells me that he should start taking me home more often. He said that I and I quote am, "a joy to be around and have wonderful taste in music." Which I was rather flattered by.

I unlocked the front door and waved to him as he drove away. Once I got inside I went into the kitchen and found a note on top of the stack of vinyls we'd gotten yesterday. 'Return these to Dorthea's if you have time. XOXO T.'

I take my backpack to my room and toss it onto my bed before taking my notebook out and heading back to the kitchen. I put the vinyls back in the paperbag and crumble up the note and toss it in the trash. I slip my notebook into the bag too and grab my house key before heading out.

I lock the door behind me and head into town. The fall fog makes it seem so ominously picturesque. This is my favorite time of year: it's full of rain and fog, the leaves change colors, the town looks straight out of a movie.

I make my way onto the mainstreet where most of the shops sit. I get to Dorthea's and she opens the door for me. "Hey there, sweetie. Bringing back those vinyls?" She asks as she gestures towards the bag.

I nod and smile, "I sure am. They were wonderful, had lots of fun listening."

She takes the bag from me and I sneak my hand in to grab my notebook out, "You take that thing everywhere don'tcha?"

I shrug my shoulders and look down at my notebook, smoothing my hand over the black leather cover. "Yeah, pretty much."

She takes the vinyls to a crate behind the register that says 'RETURNS' and drops them in it. She then hugs George who is sitting at a stool behind the desk and whispers something to him I can't hear. A low hearty laugh erupts from him and they both look at me quickly, Dorthea has a hopeful smile on her face whereas George looks skeptical, before looking at eachother again.

I decide to peruse the shelves for anything that might interest me. I wonder what Dorthea and George were whispering about, it clearly had something to do with me. I look back in the direction of the storefront's windows as I walk down the aisle. I run into what I first thought was a shelf but upon further inspection turned out to be a guy. I ran square into Harry's side.

"Oh-uh I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," I stutter out apologetically when his head snaps down to look at me.

His face tense with agitation, I can see it in his furrowed brows and tight set jaw. "Clearly," he huffs out shortly. He returns back to putting vinyls back on the shelf.

I don't know what his problem is, he's so standoffish. It could just be timidity but it's so heavily cloaked with pomposity that I can't help but become pissed off by his tone.

I don't know why but I snapped back at him, "I apologized, no need to be a dick."

His grimace only becomes more rigid when those words spill from my lips. "Are you thick? Can't you see I'm fucking busy?" He says in a stern but hushed tone.

"Am I thick? No, but it sure seems like you are. You come in here with your stupid accent and think you're superior to me? I don't think so. I apologized, I don't care if you accept it or not. All you have to do is act civilly," I retaliate

He shoves the remainder of the vinyls into the shelf, in a place I'm sure they're not meant to go, and bend down to meet me at eye level, "Listen you little-," He's cut off by the sound of Dorthea calling his name from the desk. He takes a deep inhale and straightens his posture back up. He mumbles something to himself as he heads towards the front of the store.

I let out a sigh of relief when he disappeared from the aisle. I rolled my shoulders out and decided to just leave, I have work in twenty minutes anyways.

As I head towards the front, I see Dorthea handing the crate of vinyls to Harry to put away. I can't help but snicker to myself as I push the door open while he glares at me with heavy disdain.

I step outside and feel the crisp autumn breeze kiss my skin. I lazily made my way to Darcy's, taking in the familiar sights as I walked down the street.

I get to Darcy's and open the door to hear the bell chime. I shout out to her that I'm here and head behind the desk to take off my jacket and put my notebook down. As I settle down into my spot behind the large desk, I see a man and a young girl, no more than six years old.

They're browsing through the children's section, she keeps picking up books and handing them to the man I'm assuming is her father to add to the large stack he's struggling to carry.

I smile to myself as I watch her eyes light up at the sight of another brightly colored cover, she reminds me of myself at her age. Bob would take Teddy and I out on the town and we'd stop in here, we'd bring home so many books that it made our arms sore. He was always so excited to take them home to read to us, he was the perfect pal.

I grab my notebook from behind me and flip it open and find a blank spot to write on.

'We see ourselves in the world around us, other's lives remind us of our own. They act as mirrors that reflect memories. They inspire us to reminisce on better times, times we may have taken for granted. They peruse the aisles we once did, searching for stories we once read. Their smiles just as bright as ours once were. Ours' have faded, I pray their's never do.'

The man and his daughter ended up checking out fifteen books. When I handed him the receipt for thirty dollars he pulled out a fifty dollar bill and told me to keep the change. I tried to tell him he only had to pay for the books he didn't bring back, to which he responded, "Trust me, she's never letting these leave our house." I let out a small chuckle and gave the girl a princess sticker, which she happily accepted.

They were the last customers to come in that actually left with books. Everyone else that's come in has just sat in one of the chairs and read whatever book they chose and put it back before leaving. I've sat here for a few hours now, just people watching and occasionally writing down an observation.

When people read, they seem to travel into their own world. Their souls enter this zone that consists of only them and whatever they're reading. One man who came in tapped his fingers incessantly against the wooden rocking chair as he read. A younger boy and girl came in and sat down in the middle of an aisle, taking turns reading to each other with silly voices and everything as they sat next to each other, stealing glances. Each person that decided to read in here today did something different while they absorbed the contents of their literature, uniquely consistent with their choice. The man tapping his nails was reading a book on nervous disorders. The two young kids were reading a collection of fairy tales.

I check my watch to see that it's five minutes until closing time, eight o'clock. I get up to go to flip the sign and get ready to close when the door chime dings. When I look to see who it is a pit forms in my stomach, it's Harry.

He takes long strides towards the checkout counter and has a look of deep disinterest on his face. He places the book down and slides it across the desk. "I want to return this," he says dully.

I decide to make this return as big of a pain as I can, he deserves it. "What's the reason for the return?" I ask as I pick the book up to check for any damage.

"Don't want to keep it, not worth rereading again." He says bluntly.

I find a page that's been doggyearred and decide that's what I'm going to use to make this as painful as possible. "Well, you've returned this book damaged. So you're going to have to pay a fee if you want to return it." I say as I try to hide the smugness in my voice.

"A damage fee?" His brows lower and create a crease between them.

"Mhm." I nod, "It'll be seven dollars."

His lips tighten into a line and he scoffs, "That's more than the book is worth."

I shrug, "Maybe it's not worth it to you. We have to keep these books in good condition."

He tugs his wallet out of his jeans pocket and pulls out a five dollar bill and two ones, "Fine. Here," he tosses the money onto the counter and starts to make his way back to the front door.

"Oh Harry, you forgot something," I yell out to him.

He turns back around and gives me a dirty look, "What now?"

I hold up a yellow post-it note, "You have to record the reason for returning, silly. You should know that by now, seeing as this will be the second time you've returned this book." I pull a fake smile and my voice is heavy with artificial liveliness.

He stomps back over to the desk and takes the sticky note from my hand and pulls a pen from the cup. He scribbles in poor handwriting, 'UNINTERESTING AND UNINSPIRING."

He sticks the note to the book harshly and sends me an irate stare before walking quickly out of the store.

As soon as the door slammed shut and the bell rang loudly, I jumped up from my chair and danced around while I had a laughing fit. The truth is, there's no damage fee. Dee has never had one, I've tried to convince her to make one but she wouldn't have it. She said that as long as the words on the page are still legible, the book was in perfect condition.

Dee came out from putting books back to see me spinning around as strings of high pitched crackles came out of me. "What in the dickens is going on?" She said in bewilderment.

"Just a really good day, Dee." I say as I try to calm my laughter.

She shakes her head, "Well, alrighty then. I just need you to wipe down the shelves and tables and then you can head home."

I nod in acknowledgement and grab a rag and cleaning solution. I hastefully wipe down everything and drop the rag in the little rubbish bin that serves as a laundry hamper in the back closet.

I shut off the lights as Dee packs up her things and when the store is ready for close we head out the door together. I slip my jacket on and she holds my notebook as we walk on the sidewalk. As we travel down towards the end of the street, I see Dorthea and George closing up their store as well. They're dancing around to music as they put away strangling records and wipe down shelves. Harry is wiping down the window and when we walk past, we meet eyes for a split second.

In that split second his eyes narrow down to thin slits that send an unspoken message that he never got to actually say earlier, "You little bitch."

I don't care if he thinks I'm a bitch. He's my bitch now.

~~~