The Night Before…

Sitting on the bus, Oliver Stared blankly out the window, gazing absently at the passing world until he arrived at his stop.

With Vesper secluded in her workroom in the rear of the shop, Oliver busied himself facing up existing stock on the shelves and tending to the handful of potential of customers who wandered in, making a few minor sales. Other than that, the evening was agonizingly slow.

At around seven, the door opened the little bell above ringing excitedly as an exceedingly attractive casually dressed woman entered the shop. About medium height, she was slender with grey hair pulled back. Given she looked around the same age as Vesper he immediately suspected the woman purposely dyed it as opposed to it being that color naturally.

Smiling warmly, “Hello, welcome Vesper’s Candles and Such,” he greeted.

Walking toward the counter, she met his eyes, hers being a vivid and bright green even in the weak light of the shop, “And who might you be precious one?” she asked, voice throaty.

“That is Oliver,” Vesper introduced, appearing from out of nowhere and placing a hand on his shoulder, startling him.

“Very handsome,” purred the grey haired woman, pulling a plump ruby red bottom lip back into her mouth and extending her hand.

Taking the woman’s soft hand, he shook it awkwardly before releasing it.

Intense green eye still on him, “Positively delicious,” she sighed with a soft chuckle.

Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable under her strong gaze, he turned away, feigning a cough into the crook of his arm.

The door opened, jangling the little bell again as another woman walked in, this one with light brown hair, streaked gold. “I’m parked just down the way,” she announced, eyes moving across the women and settling on Oliver.

Turning to the youth, “My friends are in town for a couple of days so I thought maybe I would close up early and give you the rest of the night off,” Vesper said with a broad smile.

Looking toward the ground, “Um, sure, okay,” he babbled, shrugging his shoulders, feeling very much like a deer in the company of wolves. Feeling the eyes of the women still upon him, he stepped around Vesper and made his way into the back of the shop, removing his apron and hanging it on its hook. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the sense of unease troubling him.

Pulling on his jacket, he returned to the front of the shop. “About tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Vesper and sliding his right hand through his hair.

She smiled. “Not to worry, I think you’ve got your hands full tomorrow night,” she commented saucily, eyes glancing down to the trio of pink band encircling his wrist.

The grey haired woman chuckled, while the brown haired woman brought a hand to her face to conceal a smile.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the house then?” he said, walking toward the door out of the shop.

Vesper nodded slowly, “Assuredly so,” she replied.

“Nice to meet you ladies,” he said, ducking his head.

The grey haired woman half raised her right hand, waving at him with her fingers, while the other woman returned his nod, slight smile on her face. He didn’t get their names, but really he didn’t care.

Outside the shop, the air cooled as the sun slipped out over the ocean, Oliver shook his head and chuckled. Why did these women set him off? This wasn’t the first time he felt this one. Once or twice growing up he got the same sensation from some of his mother’s friends. Weird.

Checking his watch, he didn’t have to wait too long for the bus. Climbing aboard the public transit, he plopped into a seat, pulling out his cell phone and pursing his lips before bringing the device to life. Calling up Cam’s contact, he reread the last text message exchange where Cam addressed him as Ollie. At first, he was very suspicious because of the use of Ollie because Cam didn’t call him that, but could it have come from Cam?

Hemming and hawing, he typed in, “Is that you John Wayne?” referring to the line from Full Metal Jacket he and Cam had joshed about during one of their movie quote exchanges.

Not expecting a prompt response, when his phone vibrated, he nearly dropped it. Swiping the screen, a smile split Oliver’s face when he read the reply, “Is this me?” It was the right answer.

Thumbs flicking across the phone’s keyboard, he composed another message. “Dude, it’s good to hear from you. You have no idea. Your sister told me you were attending a family obligation, is everything okay?”

“I’m a little, overwhelmed? Feel like a small man up to his armpits in the shit, you know what I mean? Lol,” came the reply.

“I feel ya, so, speaking of your sister, I got my third wristband and I think she‘s the one I would most like to go out on a date with, I just thought it was only right to let you know, the standup thing to do,” he answered back.

“So chivalrous, but neither of you need my blessings,” was the response.

“No warnings? Admonitions about keeping my hands off your sister?” Oliver typed back, remembering all of the warnings about her being a she-devil. With no forthcoming response from Cam, the phone’s screen went black. He hoped the abrupt conclusion of the conversation wasn’t because Cam was upset at the notion of him taking Sersei out on a date. He decided not to push the issue, waiting a while longer before slipping the device back into his pocket. Abbreviated as it was, at least he felt reasonably sure he had spoken to Cam this time.

Getting off the bus back at the university, Oliver returned to the dorm and made his way up to his room where he was greeted by a very good rendition of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here opening acoustical guitar sequence.

Sitting cross-legged on his own bed, Deacon had an Epiphone DR-100 Dreadnaught acoustic guitar with a vintage but worn sunburst finish on his lap, though he stopped playing when he spied Oliver. “Hey roomie,” he welcomed, setting the guitar to the side.

Grinning, “That was cool, you play very well,” Oliver said, kicking off his shoes and tasking a seat on is bed.

“Music scholarship,” Deacon replied with a semi-shrug. “I’ll try to keep it down to a ruckus,” he assured with a grin.

“It’s all good,” Oliver replied, holding up his hands.

“I’m hoping to maybe do a little busking and generate a little cash on the side,” Deacons said, climbing off his bed and placing the guitar into a weathered case.

“Maybe during our walkabout tomorrow we can target a few high traffic spots?” Oliver suggested.

“Dude that would be sweet, I appreciate it,” Deacon said, fastening the clasps on his case before sliding it under his bed.