Checkout Girl

One vanilla latte later, and Evelyn White finds that she can't seem to get this guy that she served that day off of her mind. What happens when this 'guy' turns out to be Harry Styles - and she didn't even notice?


5. Elvis Presley

‘This song,’ I say, pressing my eyes close. The way she walks, the way she talks...

I can feel eyes on me and so I open one, peeking across the table to where he was just staring. He tended to do that, I’d come to find. I’m not sure if I liked it. ‘What?’ I say quietly, averting my eyes now and taking a long sip on my drink.

There is a smile playing on his mouth. ‘You like Elvis?’

My eyes meet his. ‘You must,’ I say eventually, ‘because this song is about as obscure as fairies.’

He gasps theatrically. ‘You don’t believe in fairies?’

I smirk. ‘Do you? Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?’

He laughs easily. ‘No, but seriously – are you a fan?’

‘As long as it’s before ’69 then most definitely,’ I reply, ‘but he loses me after 1970.’

Harry raises an outraged eyebrow. ‘That’s the best bloody bit! Bridge Over Troubled Water and all that...’

I shrug. ‘I suppose Sweet Caroline wasn’t all that bad.’

He grins. ‘Better than the original.’

‘Far and away better than the original,’ I agree – although not without my doubts. I mean, yeah: he could be a die-hard like me – but he could’ve also just googled all that shit about Elvis’ rendition of Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Water. I didn’t know a thing about him...apart from the fact that his face was on a billboard in Times Square and there were clearly girls falling at his feet.

Popping the last piece of pancake into my mouth, I watch his eyes crawl past me and come to a rest at the front window as I chew. Something flickered in his eyes – was that concern? Annoyance? Eventually, when his touching-on-worrisome eyes have not broken from the window, I turn to find a small huddle of girls lingering across the street. They were staring avidly into the café, leaning forward and frowning as they attempt to decipher our faces. I turn back. ‘Maybe we could take the back door.’

At that, his eyes slowly crawl back to my face and a gradual smile pulls at his pretty mouth. ‘How’s that for quick thinking?’

I blush a little beneath his gaze. ‘Sharp as a tack me.’

He grins before gesturing slightly with his head toward the kitchens. ‘Better now than never.’

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