Chapter 4
Cleo was behind the cash register, sorting through a stack of boxes, while a cluster of customers were scattered around the bookstore. It took her a moment to notice me, and when she did, her concentrated face softened in relief. She blew air out of her mouth.
“Roxana! Thank God. A shipment of books came in this morning, just in time for the weekend, and Elijah was meant to be working today—but called in sick—so I’ve been working the floor on my own.” Her cheeks were pink. “I haven’t eaten breakfast yet, and I’m starving.”
“Hello to you, too,” I said. “I’m here to help. What do you need me to do?”
She clasped her fingers together. “Great! Can you cover the floor while I grab some lunch? I won’t be longer than fifteen minutes—I promise.”
“What if someone wants to buy something?” I asked, feeling very much thrown into the deep end. It seemed a red flag that she was willing to have me manage the entire bookshop—albeit for fifteen minutes—when she didn’t know me, and, more crucially, I knew nothing about the place.
“People spend so long browsing that probably won’t happen…” she said, edging toward the back room. “And if it does, ask them to wait!”
“Okay?” I said, not sure how else to respond.
“If you could start with unpacking those boxes, that would be amazing,” she called before the staff room door swung shut.
I put my bag under the cash register and glanced at a stack of five boxes against the wall.
Dropping one onto the counter, I opened it and the smell of freshly cut books was heaven.
I inhaled deeply, shutting my eyes. I was taken to summers back home, reading all day in my room.
My mum calling me downstairs to have lunch, then dinner, bringing me cups of tea as I tore through novel after novel.
As I organized the books alphabetically by author onto a trolley, I let my mind wander.
The upside of letting the nightmares in was that they rarely happened more than once in a night.
So after watching Guardians of the Galaxy with Ehsan and my dad, I went to bed early and slept soundly, waking up fresh thirteen hours later.
I didn’t even need to put on much concealer today, opting instead for tinted moisturizer that left me with a shiny glow and my signature winged eyeliner, because my face didn’t feel like mine without it.
The girl and the golden-haired boy lingered in the back of my mind. I’ll always love you. It seemed my dreams were about two lovers. Last night, before bed, I expanded on my drawing of the boy, refining his eyes, showing the pain there as he called to me—to her, whoever she was.
Of course, I’d had secret theories about my dreams. Like what if these visions were of a past self being burned?
The dreams were so visceral, so specific.
It was only in moving to Denver, though, that they had progressed, and I saw more of what was around me.
Particularly, the boy. The boy who apparently worked only a few doors away from here…
Fifteen minutes had passed without me realizing. Cleo stood opposite me, cheeks a little less pink now, lip gloss freshly applied.
“Thank you so much. I practically inhaled my burrito,” she said.
“No problem. I’ve almost finished unpacking the boxes.”
“Cool, I’ll help you finish putting these on the cart.” She stood next to me and ripped open the last box. We methodically organized the books by genre, then in alphabetical order, onto the trolley. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” I said. “You?”
“Same. And before you question why an eighteen-year-old is running a bookstore, know that I’ve been working here for years now. Some would say it’s a violation of child labor laws but…” She shrugged.
“So can you get any of these books for free?”
Cleo laughed. “Yes, sort of, but that’s more because my mom is the boss than because I work here. And that perk becomes less exciting when you’re working in a bookstore while all your friends are away for summer break. It’s okay, though—I’ll travel later.”
The bell on the top of the door jingled, signaling a new customer. I was not, however, prepared for who it was.
He didn’t look in our direction but first went toward a stand of new releases. He wore his uniform, presumably on his lunch break. I must have made a choking sound because Cleo asked if I was okay.
“Yeah, it’s just a cough.” At this, Cleo appeared more concerned. “I’m not sick,” I quickly backtracked. “Just have a tickle in my throat.”
She leaned her elbows on the counter, a knowing look on her face once her eyes flicked toward the boy then back at me. “You sure it has nothing to do with the guy who walked in a second ago?”
I bit the inside of my cheek for something to focus on and kept my gaze down on the cover of a Tahereh Mafi book. I was staring at it for so long and yet I couldn’t tell you which one of her books it was. Maybe An Emotion of Great Delight. Or A Very Large Expanse of Sea. Possibly neither.
“What guy?” I asked.
The boy put the book he was reading back down on the display table and made his way to the counter.
It was only when he was directly opposite me that he really noticed my face.
That same look of recognition from yesterday struck him, and his head cocked ever so slightly to the right.
His eyes went to Cleo, his lips perking up in an almost-smile.
“They sent you here for change again?” she asked.
“Yep,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Sorry. I did tell the old man that he should just go to the bank, but he told me to try.” He had fifty dollars in his hands, which Cleo took and exchanged for smaller bills.
He did prayer hands. “You’re a lifesaver.” His voice was silky smooth and when he flashed Cleo a smile with his straight, white teeth, I swear she started blushing.
“Anytime,” she choked. At least I wasn’t the only one acting like a fool in front of this boy.
He pivoted himself back toward me and asked, “Have we met before?”
Tongue-tied, my mind immediately went back to my dreams. Us tied up, cold eyes watching us as flames engulfed our bodies. I’ll always love you. But no, that wasn’t what he was referring to. “I was at the diner yesterday,” I finally said.
“Right,” he said. I couldn’t tell if I gave him the answer he was hoping for. I diverted my gaze and reminded myself to breathe. “Well, see you guys later.”
After he left, Cleo went back to leaning her elbows on the counter, eyes wide. “What was that about?”
I shrugged. “No idea. Who is he?”
“Zain. We went to the same high school. He was on the varsity football team. And don’t worry, every girl’s reaction to him is the same. He pretty much keeps to himself, though.”
My head nodded like this all made sense, but of course it didn’t. Maybe I was just like everyone else, charmed by a handsome boy, so much so that I inserted him into my nightmare. Odd, not implausible.
For the rest of the shift, Cleo showed me how to run the shop.
We placed books onto the correct shelves, and she taught me how the stock tracker and the cash register system worked.
The stockroom was pretty much a mess of unorganized books and novelty items they hadn’t been able to tackle because they were so short-staffed.
In the children’s section, there were small colorful armchairs.
A boy who looked around Ehsan’s age sat on an orange armchair for most of my shift, engrossed in a Batman graphic novel.
He carefully turned each page, making sure not to bend the spine.
When Cleo noticed me watching him, she said, “He always comes here; he lives above the shop.”
Two hours passed quickly. I mainly sorted through the books in the stockroom, making sure excess copies were alphabetically organized, and then dusted the shop floor.
I had forgotten how easily books collected dust, and the place really did need a deep clean, one I offered to do.
By the end of my shift, Cleo offered me the job.
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “You know what you’re doing, and you aren’t annoying, so I actually can imagine spending eight hours together without wanting to kill you—a major plus.
My mom is pretty easygoing, as long as you’re here on time and do the job.
And so long as you don’t steal all the gift socks in one shift, thinking no one will notice, like Tom did before he was fired… ”
“Someone really did that?”
Cleo pressed her lips together. “Sadly, yes. People are…weird. I think he was a kleptomaniac or something. And the best thing, too, is that in addition to a fifty percent discount, employees get free coffee.” She nodded her head toward the adjoining coffee shop next door.
“Really?” This sounded too good to be true.
Cleo nodded. “I know. I do slightly abuse their kindness, but if it bothers them they really should’ve imposed a one coffee per day policy.” She shrugged her shoulders.
After my shift ended, I bought Ehsan the same graphic novel I saw the young boy reading. He deserved a treat; the move must have been hard for him, too.
Hot air whooshed toward me as soon as I stepped outside. I decided to check out a thrift shop down the road that I had starred. To get to it, however, I had to pass the diner. I stopped in my tracks. Maybe I should go straight home?
I pivoted, about to give in to my cowardly nature, when I thought of a Coach bag waiting for me in the store, or even a fitted leather jacket for the fall.
The idea of what I could be missing out on caused me to take a deep breath before turning back around and making my way to the thrift shop. I kept my gaze ahead, head held high.