Steady, Junie B., Junie thought to herself as they moved further and further away from the Badger’s Hovel. We’ll be going back for the coffee. She took several steadying breaths as she chanted this mantra to herself. Elliott and Roger were a few paces ahead of her, moving with confidence through the mall. She, however, was a little stunned. When had all these shops gotten here? She knew there were other shops in the mall aside from the Hovel of course; you can’t have a mall with just a coffee shop (or so she’d been told). But these shops in specific were all new to her.
But to be fair, said a voice in her head that sounded like Bob Barker. A lot of things seem new to you, because you rarely notice the old things. Junie thought about that for a moment, but then her left knee started to itch, and that never boded well, so she stopped.
She glanced to one side, pushing her long blonde hair out of her eyes as she walked. She was looking into a sparkling storefront which was so brightly and garishly lit it hurt her eyes. The store was called the Dry Otter. Stupid name for a store. Doesn’t even make sense. Why would an otter be dry? They’re water animals. Or am I thinking of seals?
You have it right, the other voice said.
They’re water animals?
No I meant about it being a stupid name for a store.
Oh.
The store was filled with fashionable clothing that probably had more specific names than just “pants” and “shirts.” Stuff like camisoles, or dickies or something. But it was nothing Junie cared about.
The tall-non-fat-mocha-every-day-at-ten-fifteen-a.m. was there, folding some t-shirts. Junie tended to think of people she didn’t know well in terms of their preferred coffee beverage; Junie sometimes forgot where the bathroom was in her own house but she never forgot a coffee order. For the longest time, she’d thought of Elliott as “drip” and Roger as “Irish cream”, which as it turned out he didn’t much appreciate. The Celts were a touchy people, apparently.
Despite not knowing the girl’s name, Junie knew one thing for sure: Elliott, her best friend, was crazy about her. Sure, he’d never spoken to her, but he was young and little things like not knowing anything about the other person were hardly a barrier to true love and, potentially, expedited baby production. Besides, who was she to talk about someone else being crazy for no good reason? Regardless, Elliott was probably not focused on her right then; Roger was a motivating force of nature and he was simply dragging them through the mall to his car where, Junie hoped anyway, he would have her grenade launcher. He hadn’t said anything about that, but if a guy was carrying around an arsenal it wasn’t out of the question to think that arsenal might include the launcher.
She shook herself and focused. Elliott was not going to want to leave the tall-non-fat-mocha behind.
Junie looked around and tried to get Elliott’s attention; she could see him amongst a crowd of people a few stores down the hall, looking lost. He was so helpless sometimes.
She waved at him, and he finally saw her; the relief on his face was kind of sweet.
“Junie, we need to go,” he said, grabbing her hand. “We don’t have time.” He glanced at the store and then down at what Junie was wearing, her favorite painter’s pants and a green cotton t-shirt. The outfit made Junie feel like a hipster, artsy and environmentally sound, but no one ever got the joke. “This doesn’t really seem like your style anyway,” Elliott said.
She gave him a pointed look.
“There’s nothing in there for me. I was looking at something for you though.”
Elliott quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not sure baby blue capris are my style either, Junie.”
Junie gently took his chin and turned his head towards the store. That familiar, glassy eyed look came over him and Junie couldn’t help but smile. Knowing Elliott, he was probably contemplating what kind of coffee he would make her in the morning. Elliott’s biggest problem was always that he thought things through way too much; he was never spontaneous. He had a freak flag for sure, but his had been neatly folded by well dressed soldiers and placed atop the coffin of Carpe Diem long ago. Time to unfold.
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