harper jones is on the run (jonesycakes) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2013-05-07 03:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, harper, josh |
i hate your face, but you sure are pretty
WHO | Harper & Josh
WHERE | Sherry’s Bakery
WHEN | Afternoon, 9-24-09
Reason #348 why owning a bakery was a good thing: The Warmth. It didn’t matter that the chill in the air was rising outside, trying to beat down the door with the announcement of ‘Hey, Winter’s almost here. Better grab your coats and kiss those short skirts goodbye,’ because inside of the bakery it was nice and toasty and Harper made sure to keep it that way. It may have meant that she was going into a bit of a frenzy with the baking, like the number of fall themed cookies she had on cooling racks or the funfetti cupcakes waiting for icing or even the cakepops that were waiting on their sticks, but hey, at least she wasn’t cold. Harper couldn’t stand to be cold. Being cold was worse than being wet. Sort of. Sometimes. Okay whatever, they were both terrible. Cold meant snow and snow meant puddles of water left behind and there was just no escaping the cold or the wet. The only good thing that the cold brought along with it were people who sought refuge inside the bakery.
And yeah, okay, so maybe it wasn’t actually that cold outside today, but that didn’t stop Harper from loving how warm the bakery was at the moment. She was too busy going from station to station, mixing new batter, testing the fudge, adding sprinkles to realize that the bell over the door had rang. She was just pulling a pan out of the oven, conveniently without mitts, when out of the corner of her eye she saw Crayola’s head perk upwards and his tail start to move back and forth. So she turned to see what held her familiar’s interest and what she saw nearly caused her to drop the whole pan of chocolate chip cookies. Fortunately she made the gesture look like she was artistically setting the pan on the counter. With her back turned to the customer at the counter, she inhaled deeply as she shut the oven. You don’t know him, he doesn’t know you. Just another customer. Don’t even acknowledge him really. ‘Good luck with that.’ I don’t understand why you like him so much. He’s rarely even here. Plus, you hate everyone. ‘Not everyone.’
She turned on her heels, wearing a smile that she hoped seemed normal and not nervous at all. She hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and approached the counter. “Can I help you with something?”
Tech repair was far from what anyone would describe as bustling work. Entire days could pass without a single person walking through the door to drop off or pick up whatever it was they had managed to break. A few months ago, Josh decided to start keeping hardware and accessories in stock in the hopes that it would bring in more customers than just those who needed repair work done, but it had not been pulling in as much business as he had hoped. Even the repairs he had to make weren’t enough to take up much of his time. More often than not, people brought in computers that were over-run with viruses; it was as simple as running cleaning software and they were ready to go. The orders he really lived for were when someone came in and asked him to put together a computer from scratch, but, of course, those happened once in a blue moon. Though he wouldn’t dare tell any of his customers, Josh had been guilty of dismantling and reassembling things that were brought in just for the sake of having something to do.
Today, more than ever, he was feeling a serious need for something to occupy his time. Josh could repeat the words “everything is fine” over and over in his head, but it was easier when his hands – and mind – were preoccupied with something else. He wasn’t even sure what about today made it worse than others before it. His mother had been fine, albeit exhausted, when he had left his parent’s house last night, and he hadn’t gotten a call to say that she had suddenly take a turn for the worse. It could have easily just been the waiting: waiting for her to get better, or for the other shoe to drop. Josh had never been what anyone would describe as patient.
Usually when he felt an excess of energy – which was constantly, granted – he would go out for a run. Had it been closer to closing time, that was exactly what he would have done, but there were a few people coming by after five to pick up their computers and he needed to stay at the shop at least until then. There was only one other option for him; actually there were two, but the alternative was not one that he was allowing any amount of consideration – not much anyway. Josh headed out of his shop, making sure to tape a “Back in 10 minutes” sign to the front door before locking it behind him.
The bakery next door was not a place that he liked to visit very often. It wasn’t that he didn’t like what was sold there; far from it, actually. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drop serious money on cakes and pastries every time he paid one of his rare visits; no, the discomfort he felt when he walked into Sherry’s Bakery had everything to do with the girl that now owned it. Harper Jones. The two had history, though she never seemed to recognize him when he came in. Josh had done a lot of horrible things as a teenager, back when his ego was so inflated it could barely fit through a door frame, and that included asking Harper out to his Senior prom and ditching her halfway through the night. Looking back now, Josh couldn’t figure out what had possessed him to pull such a dick move, but he had and he wanted to kick himself for it every time he saw the blonde.
Josh gave her a nod in greeting before answering. “What’s fresh?” Okay, it wasn’t much of an answer, but he wasn’t interested in anything that had been sitting out all morning.
Josh Flynn. Joshua Effing Flynn. There was no one else who made her stomach flip over with butterflies and jump into her throat with a hatred as intense as about a thousand and a half suns. Saying that they had a history was putting it lightly. She had crushed so hard on Josh when they were in high school, it was absolutely ridiculous. He was the boy that every girl wanted and Harper had so wished she was immune to those charms. He was charismatic, friendly, and didn’t seem fake at all to the people he talked to. He smiled at her and even laughed at her incredibly lame jokes, but the important thing was that he never laughed at her when the popular girls teased her for her odd clothes. He seemed like he could have genuinely liked her, especially when he went all love story on her and asked her to the prom. She was a sophomore and wasn’t going to get to go, but he was a senior and asked her. Her! Of all the girls who were prettier, more popular, and didn’t look like a boy in a dress, Josh had chosen her. Somehow, that act had proven to her that he valued personality over looks.
And then the bastard up and ditched her halfway through the damned dance.
She had been so heartbroken that night; Sherry had curled up next to her and let her sob until the next morning. Sherry had even offered to let Harper stay home from school the following day, but Harper was too proud. She went to school and refused to look anyone in the eye. So she started hating him. Terribly. It should have been the end when he graduated. Really, that should have been it, but next thing she knew, that damned computer repair shop was open next door. Next freaking door. And he came in to buy all sorts of sweets, but not once did he ever acknowledge that he knew who she was. So she did the same to him. He was just another customer. A no-good, dirty, rude mother fucking customer who just so happened to ditch her at the prom and break her heart into a million tiny pieces in the process.
“Pretty much everything,” she shrugged, stepping over towards the display case. She used the chance to look away from Josh. She hated that conflicting feeling she got where she wanted to punch him in the face and draw hearts around it at the same time. “Chocolate chip cookies, snickerdoodles, butterscotch, cupcakes of every shade and flavor, and I’m trying out caramel toffees for the first time. They should be cool in just a second though, if you want to try any of those.” Shop talk. That was easy. Except for the part where she wanted to ask him how he could possibly not remember her from school. “So what do you think? Going to stick to the usual?” ‘Maybe you shouldn’t try to rush him out.’ Maybe you should just … shut up. ‘God, you’re so clever. I think I might be sick.’
‘Nope. Just a fur ball.’
In all honesty, Josh was used to Harper’s distant if not cold regard toward him. The first time he had walked into the bakery and saw who it was behind the counter, he had expected her to glare or yell or actually throw something in his general direction before telling him to get out. When that didn’t happen and it became obvious that she had no memory of who he was, he expected her to start to warm up to him. Even without any of the added oomph of his charm, it was rare that anyone remained this put off from him for so long. To say that it didn’t wound his pride – not even a little bit – would be a giant lie. The last thing he wanted was for Harper to swoon all over him, but a little service with a smile wouldn’t hurt anyone. Josh bit the inside of his lip as he debated over what to order. With his mind preoccupied, his hand lifted up to rest on the register in front of him; his idle fingers drummed out a mindless beat. “I think I’ll go with two dozen cookies, three dozen cupcakes – dealer’s choice – and a dozen of those toffees when they’re ready. I’m sure they’re good.” His tone was flat, lacking any of the lilt that a compliment might have. He didn’t have to tell her that she was a good baker. Josh was more than positive she believed it already and if his frequent patronage was proof of anything it was that he believed it as well. “I’ll take rest while I wait for them.”
He was growing antsier by the second waiting for Harper to prepare his order, even if it hadn’t been more than a minute or two. Anyone who knew him, even a little at all, knew that it was nearly impossible for him to stay still for very long. His eyes moved from watching her dart around to where his hand rested on top of the register. Josh could sense the energy circulating through the machine; as the current passed by him, he pulled at it through plastic and into his skin. The electricity felt good and warm and – Shit. He knew how to take just what he needed, but that fast he had become wrapped up in the sensation and drained enough energy to short it out; had he been paying attention, he would have realized what he was doing and stopped. Of course, he could just pass it back off, but that would have been a lot easier to accomplish if Harper wasn’t on her way back with his boxes of treats. Josh jerked his hand away and stuffed it into his pocket. He had a feeling that the woman’s attitude toward him wouldn’t improve if she knew what he had just done; actually it might make her appreciate him more if he fixed it for her.
Trying to play it as casual as possible, Josh looked past Harper to where Crayola was sitting. For all that the baker seemed to not care, her familiar was rather fond of him. In fact, the two of them had a secret bond that he doubted Harper knew about, or at least he hoped so. Whenever he came over, he always had a treat to slip to the cat when his owner wasn’t looking. He had even come over to make sure that Crayola was fed – and that the shop didn’t burn down – when Harper was arrested. Josh had promised double treats for life so long as the familiar swore never to tell his ward what he had done. He didn’t want the woman to get any ideas when he was just trying to be nice; he had a lot of bad karma to pay off where Harper was concerned. Josh and Crayola locked eyes and he gave the subtle hand motion that signaled he hadn’t forgotten the treats. It was like a back alley deal, only it was between a man and a cat, and the contraband was salmon flavored cat snacks.
She never really intended to be cold toward Josh, or anyone for that matter, but it was better than the alternative. The alternative being shooting balls of fire into his face every time he stepped into the shop. That just wouldn’t end well, now would it? Per usual, he ordered more than what one person ought to order. Normally, giant orders were a pleasure to fill, but just because this was for Josh, Harper couldn’t help but be resentful as she bustled behind the counter to get everything ready. Dealer’s choice. Did he say that because he trusted her judgment? Or was he testing her? Or was she just reading too much into it? Hell, he didn’t remember who she was, so clearly it was just an order. It never occurred to Harper that she was punishing him for something he may not even remember doing. If it had, she would have thought that made it so much worse, that she wasn’t even worth the memory of his cruelty. She decided to give him four different kinds of cookies, six of each sugar, snickerdoodle, chocolate chip, and peanut butter. The cupcakes were a little trickier to decide. She started off by just pulling a couple of every flavor she had ready and counting them by pointing her finger at them.
“Not too picky, are you?” She asked when she realized she still needed a few more. Harper didn’t look at him when she spoke and she may or may not have realized that there was a barbed edge to the question. Well. She did. She knew she was being on the passive side of aggressive. ‘It’s a wonder you still have customers when you treat them like this.’ Ignoring her familiar, she reached into the display case and grabbed a maple-bacon flavor that had received admiration from customers of the stoned variety. Maybe Josh would like it too? She also picked up a caramel salted pretzel and a couple of red velvet cupcakes before she double checked to make sure she was right at thirty-six cupcakes.
While his ward was busy being an ass, Crayola recognized the look in Josh’s eye and he knew the treasure that was waiting in the man’s pocket. He left his usual perch and lazily approached his secret ally, making as though passing by Josh was the best way to head back upstairs. Harper had just finished gathering all of the cupcakes and placing them in cream colored cardboard boxes, placing the packages of cookies on the top. She decided that the toffees still weren’t quite cool enough to serve, so she headed to the register so she could ring the order up. Technology and Harper were not exactly the best of friends. In fact, Harper could barely operate a television and DVD player, let alone anything that was remotely high tech. That was why when she started pushing buttons on the register and there was no response, she figured it was something she had done wrong.
“Seriously?” She asked the machine, pressing the buttons even harder and slapping the side of the register, as if that was going to make it work any faster. “Stupid piece of -- Ouch!” Turns out, hitting a sharp metal corner of a register was good for slicing open the side of her hand. Mentally she was cussing the machine and Josh both, even though the latter was out of pure embarrassment.