2019-12-17 - How Not To Not Talk To Strangers

The bookshop is a good place to escape the cold December rain that's currently pelting the pavement outside. The week before Christmas means people are out shopping for gifts but the rain might be keeping them inside and in other shops. There are a few bibliophiles wandering shelf-created hallways of the store, but it's not what one might call busy tonight.

Quyen is one of those souls, wandering with a couple of books in hand, one of them open to read a page or two as she turns a corner. Her phone chimes and she stops short to swiftly pull it from her peacoat's pocket, fingers seeking the side button to turn down the volume before she glances at the display.

Another one of them is Levi -- he is browsing the shelves opposite the ones she's looking at, though his browsing seems to have devolved into just reading a whole book, judging from how long he's bene standing there. He hasn't really moved in several minutes, turning page after page of Lost Children Archive.

He does look up at the sound from Quyen's phone, looking around until he spots where it comes from. It doesn't take him long, since she's not exactly far away. "Shh," he says, though there's a little half-smile that pulls up the corner of his mouth as he does. "This is a...wait." He looks around again, as though he's forgotten where he is, before he amends, "Never mind, carry on."

For an instant, there's a narrowing of Quyen's eyes when he says "Shh," before her gaze alights on his and she realizes he's kidding. "Right. You're supposed to actually buy the books you read," she teases him, having apparently noticed him standing there for however long she's been in the aisle, lost in his reading.

Her own smirk follows the words to offset what might be considered a rude comment. "Sorry, though. I didn't mean to interrupt your reading," she says, lifting her phone to indicate what she means, before she slips that back into her pocket. "It's loud and obnoxious so I don't miss it when it's important, but then it's loud and obnoxious for other people, too." She sets the book she was reading back on the shelf she's standing closest to. Apparently that's not one she's planning on buying.

"Really?" Levi's eyes widen, as though this is a revelation for him. "Wow, no wonder everyone always yells at me when I try to walk out with a book." He reaches up to smack his forehead -- though it's obviously meant to be a joke, since he doesn't do it that hard. He sticks the book under his arm then, apparently having decided to buy it. It must have passed the threshold for how many pages it needs to hold his attention for in the aisle.

"If it makes you feel any better," he continues, turning to face her more, "I'm in here a lot, and you definitely aren't the most obnoxious person I've ever encountered."

Quyen rolls her eyes at the joke, but it still draws a small laugh. Not overly loud, since she's trying not to be loud and obnoxious.

"Well, thanks. I think. It's nice to have something to aspire to," she says wryly, glancing at the book in his hands, but not recognizing the title or the subject matter to comment on it. She looks back up at him, before tipping her head and narrowing her eyes again -- this time thoughtfully, rather than in almost-annoyance.

"You look familiar," she says, before her dark eyes widen and she looks like she might have committed a faux pas. "Shit, you're not standing here talking to me because you remember me and I've forgotten you entirely, are you? That would be embarrassing."

"No problem," Levi says as his smile widens a little bit at that, as though she's actually thanking him seriously, though he doesn't actually seem like he really does think she's asking him seriously, since there's still humor in his expression as well.

The question, however, makes him laugh, and he shakes his head. "No," he says, "I just never learned not to talk to strangers. Though you do look kind of familiar, too. Did we go to middle school together, maybe? Or something like that? I've lived here pretty much all my life."

His answer about talking to strangers draws a warmer laugh from Quyen. "How are you ever supposed to make friends if you don't talk to strangers? I don't think that rule applies to adults." The smile slips away a little into something more pensive, and she studies him for a moment before nodding.

"That's probably it.I went away for high school and then college. But I was class of 2008." You know, if she had graduated with her peers as she was supposed to. "You're probably a few years younger though," she adds, because he has that clean-shaven baby face and all.

"I guess that's true," Levi concedes. "It really was a lot easier to do in school when you were thrown together with the same people and you didn't have all the adult hangups about not being rude and feeling awkward all the time." Hey, maybe this is a little awkward! Though he doesn't seem to feel that it is -- apparently he's just friendly.

"Actually, I'm class of 2009," he continues with a little chuckle of his own. He certainly doesn't seem to be offended by the assumption. "I only look twelve. I don't remember your name, though. I was probably way too much of a nerd back then to be friends with. Levi."

"Right? You could just ask someone to play tetherball and not have to worry about whether they were married or not or anything else adults have to worry about when talking to strangers," Quyen says with another grin.

Her brows lift when he reveals he's only a year younger than her. "Oh. Sorry. See? Much easier when you're kids. Though I do remember someone in second grade trying to tell me where the kindergarten room was because I was small for my age. Scarred for life." She offers her hand when he gives her his name. "Quyen." Her eyes narrow again as she considers him. "You have a sister, right? I kinda remember. Maybe. I forgot a lot of stuff from back then." Spending years in a drug haze will do that, goes unspoken.

Levi reaches to shake the offered hand, though there's a bit of recognition when she says the name. There are probably not now nor were there ever that many Quyens in Grey Harbor. "Right," he says, "I remember now. And yeah, I have a twin sister, Magnolia. Jones," he adds, just in case that helps.

"It's been a while," he confirms, since it has, indeed, been a while, and that's probably what he assumes she means. "What are you doing with yourself these days? Since it requires really loud cell phone rings for emergencies, I'm going to say...president of the United States."

"Are you saying I look old? You just aged me a few years if I can be the President." Quyen tsks and shakes her head, as if offended. "I'm not that important. I'm a social worker over at the hospital, so I'm often waiting on calls regarding resources for patients, and I despise playing phone tag. Like it's the worst. And it happens at least ten times a day. I try to mitigate it by being loud and obnoxious."

She flashes another smile before nodding to him. "And you? How's your sister? I do remember her because I thought her name was cute. I did that thing where I had a whole list of the names I was going to go by when I could change my name legally. And then when I could, I actually found I liked my name, go figure. Do you remember that book Chrysanthemum? Kind of like that." She shuts up at the end so he can actually answer the question she posed to him.

"I mean, I just assumed that you were so important they waived that part of the Constitution," Levi replies. "They kind of seem to be on the verge of doing that with other things, so it seemed reasonable." His smile tilts a little wryly, but that's all the mention of politics he does -- at least for the moment. Instead, he gets a little more serious when she says what she does do. "Oh, really? That's very cool. It does seem like a job where you'd have to be the squeaky wheel a lot of the time."

As for his sister, he continues, "She's doing well. She's a PI, so she's putting her nosy streak to good use." He laughs, but his tone is fond, and the smile softens a little bit when he talks about his sister. "I do remember that book. Actually it was one of our favorites when we were little." Probably for obvious reasons.

"Well. I mean, they should, but I didn't put my name in last time. I'm pretty confident I would do a better job than the current idiot," Quyen says.

There's a smile for the fondness he has for his sister. "I don't remember her being nosy, but then, I don't remember much as we have determined," she quips. "And what do you do?" Though once she asks it, she looks a little worried she's committed another faux pas, like maybe he glossed over the question of what he does because he doesn't do anything. It's a possibility, after all. "I mean, unless it's personal," she amends quickly, glancing down at the book still in her hand, as if it might tell her whether or not she's asking a personal question. Sadly it's not a Miss Manners book, so there's no answer there.

When she asks what he does, Levi looks from left to right to see if there's anyone else around, and leans in a little bit closer while lowering his voice. "I can't really go into detail," he murmurs seriously, "but the gist of it is that I teach History at the high school."

That's about as long as he can keep up the straight face, and he smiles, straightening up again. "I know it sounds glamorous, but I'm really just like everyone else." He lifts the book that he's taken from the shelf, gesturing with it as he continues, "It's almost winter break, so I'm picking up some things to read."

His words draw a huff of laugh from her and she rolls her eyes again at him. He deserves it.

"I'll believe you're just like everyone else when People magazine publishes a photo of you drinking coffee or walking your dog and claiming you're just like me. Otherwise, I don't know if I can take your word for it," Quyen says wryly. "Congrats on the vacation. I'm sure it's well earned. You should get hazard pay for dealing with teenagers. Do you even try to teach anything this week, or have you caved in and just show Christmas movies? I think that's what my eighth grade history teacher did. I vaguely remember falling asleep watching The Santa Clause in Mr. Jacobs' class."

The eyeroll certainly doesn't offend him -- maybe he even expects it! Levi does reply, "I don't have a dog, but I do go shopping wearing sweats sometimes, so that's probably about the same." He shakes his head when she goes on, though, continuing, "Not really. I give them some nothing assignments and we play History Jeopardy. And movies too, though not Christmas ones. Mostly just ones that I can pretend have something to do with history. Today it was Lincoln."

Quyen looks doubtful about the sweats, glancing down at him, then back up and lifting a brow like she just can't see it. She groans when he mentions Lincoln.

"Come on, it's Christmas. At least give them Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter or something. They'll love you for it." She flashes another toothy smile. Her phone makes that little zzzt sound for being put on vibration mode, so she grimaces and pulls it out of her pocket. "I hate when ignoring someone doesn't work. I should take this. Good to re-meet you, Levi."

She lifts a hand in farewell as the other slides across the screen of her phone, unlocking it and answering the call. "Quyen Le," she says, voice suddenly more professional in tone as she disappears around the bookshelf's corner.