Chapter 4
The first step to getting yourself out of a downward spiral?
Get back into your old hobbies. For me, I know things are getting bad again when my old hobbies no longer interest me.
The first to go is usually reading because it takes a lot of focus.
So, I’m going to a bookshop and buying a book, which I’m determined to finish.
I loved reading as a kid. I remember when I read my first book with a gay character in it.
It made me realise that the feelings I held deep within my chest were normal.
I wasn’t weird or broken, I was just a normal, gay human being.
And that’s okay. Once I read that, that was it.
I was reading gay romances every single day, and I eventually came out to my Mum.
I think she saw it coming. I kept coming home to my books neatly organised in my library, even the spicy ones I had hidden away.
I didn’t realise it at the time, but I think it was her way of telling me it’s okay, before I was ready to say it out loud.
I walk past a small boba shop I used to visit frequently when I was younger.
It’s on the main strip of town close to the butchers.
It’s nestled in a small alley, and there’s a canopy above some beautiful stone tables.
Oak benches line the wall, alongside paintings of the Cornish coast. Colourful bunting hangs from the ceiling too.
It’s lovely in here. The peak tourism season isn’t until June and July, so the shop is relatively quiet.
Three girls are working behind the counter. I walk up, and a girl with short red hair turns around.
“Hi there, what can I get you?” She asks, tapping the screen rapidly. Her name tag reads ‘Cat’ with little daisy stickers.
“What specials do you have today?” I ask, because I’m unsure what to get. I haven’t had boba in a while, I think because I always went with Mum, the thought of going myself put me off. She wouldn’t want me to deprive myself, though; she would say I was just being silly.
“We have this really nice raspberry and pomegranate fruit tea that has strawberry boba in it. I think it’s lovely, I’ve literally been making it for all my breaks this week,” Cat explains, her smile wide. It’s one of those contagious smiles.
“Okay, I think I’ll go with that then, you’ve sold me,” I laugh as I pay for the boba.
“What’s the name?”
“Noah,” I tell her, she starts writing it down on a sticker and places it on a cup. There’s a small bookcase in the corner, with small handmade coffee cups lining a shelf above. There’s a sign that reads:
Handmade Pottery by Crystal
Lovingly crafted right here in Perrancombe
￡5 each | 3 for ￡10
I study the selection of books they have on display for anyone to take with them. There’s a sign asking that you replace it with one of your favourites when you come back. That’s such a cool idea. You can learn a lot about a stranger from their favourite book.
“Oh, if you want a bigger selection, there’s a bookshop down the road,” a blonde girl tells me from behind the counter. Her name tag says Daisy on it, and there’s a sticker of a black cat on it.
I think I know what’s going on here.
They’re definitely dating.
“Oh, I might actually,” I reply, walking back up to the counter.
“Yeah, our friend is the owner. It’s mostly a queer bookshop but there’s other stuff there too,” Cat tells me as she cleans the counter.
“I actually prefer queer books,” I tell her and she flashes a smile.
“Perfect, well, you can tell him we sent you,” Cat says, as she finishes up the order. An older woman with long black hair turns around and studies me. Her name is Charlotte according to the name tag on her chest. No stickers, though. I smile awkwardly at her before she decides to say something.
“Where do I know you from? Are you a local?” Charlotte asks, adjusting her glasses above the bridge of her nose. My mother wore a similar pair.
“I’m a local, but I’ve been away at University for the past year.”
“Aw, lovely, what did you study?” She asks. Daisy and Cat have gone off into the corner of the room, laughing at something on Cat’s phone.
“Creative Writing, I had this dream where I was going to become a writer but… it didn’t work out,” I tell her, which results in her scrunching up her face.
“You don’t need a degree to write books, just a passion.
Same with most things. I’ve done all this without a degree,” she says as she scoops up strawberry boba into the cup.
She places a paper straw inside and hands it to me with a smile.
I begin to take a drink. It’s sweet and fruity and reminds me of home. I needed this.
“I do recognise you, though, would I know your Mum or Dad?” She asks, and I feel my heart drop. I nearly choke on a boba ball. Just a mention of her, and I hear the crack of her skull on the pavement.
“Both my parents have passed now. Dad passed away when I was a few months old, but did you know an Isabelle Wright?” I tell her with a straight face, trying not to give away how much pain I’m in just saying her name.
“Oh,” she says, the colour drains from her face. “I’m sorry for your loss.” I’ve never understood why people apologise for people’s deaths like this. It’s not like she killed her?
“Oh, it’s okay. Thank you, though.”
“It was just awful what happened. I can’t believe you had to see that at such a young age,” she says, shaking her head.
“Were you there that day?” I ask, for reasons I’m not sure.
“No, I was out of town, but I heard about it in the paper. Such an awful thing to happen in such a quaint little town,” She says as she fidgets with her wedding ring.
“People seem to think it was the Bronze family. Do you know anything about them?” I ask, pressing her further.
“Just that they’re a pain in the ass for small business’ like ours,” Daisy chimes in as she walks up beside Charlotte. She sighs, “I’m afraid they’re gonna target us next sometimes. But they haven’t done anything for a while now.”
“That’s good,” I say, attempting a small smile. “Well, thank you for the boba,” I say, ending the conversation there. I start to head for the bookstore.
I see the sign for the ‘Rainbow Bookshop’, which sits at the beginning of the main strip of town.
A bell chimes as I open the door, and I’m hit with the smell of Coffee and Paper.
Coffee sounds great right now, honestly.
I never used to drink coffee until I started going to university full-time.
Kai hates it; he’s more of an energy drink person.
I’m both a coffee lover and an energy drink lover, so my heart definitely hates me.
While I browse books that consist of lives I wish I could live, a tall boy with chocolate hair makes his way over to me. A mix of wood scented aftershave and Mocha Coffee fills my nose. He says something, but I’m too busy being in awe that I need him to repeat himself.
“What, sorry?”
“Do you need a hand with anything, sir?”
Sir? What am I, forty? I look at his face, then realise something.
It’s the boy from the train station.
I look at him again, and oh my god. He is gorgeous. I haven’t looked at another person that way for a long time after the... incident. I want him to keep talking so I can hear that calming voice of his. Wait shit, he asked me a question.
“Yes I need help.”
Nice.
My voice sounds like a mouse. I feel my cheeks heat up the more I stand here in front of him.
“Wait, are you the boy from the Train Station?” He asks, while my knees threaten to give in.
Oh my god, he remembers me!
“Yeah, that’s me. Thanks for checking on me, it’s not every day that people do that for strangers,” I say, while my heart threatens to explode.
“No problem, Noah,” he says, the way my name sounds coming from him is satisfying, like opening a fresh book for the first time. He starts fixing his hair and the corners of his mouth slowly move up. I now realise I’m just staring at the poor boy.
“What?” He laughs. The laugh reaches his eyes, they remind me of the ocean.
“Sorry, I just can’t believe we ran into each other! It must be fate or something,” I claim. My wide smile hurts my cheeks.
Things like this never happen to me! I get a second chance with this boy. I need to use it.
A song plays through speakers overhead about Daydreams and Cigarettes. It’s upbeat and cheerful. I start tapping my fingers against my thigh. Maybe the universe is saying hey, I know I’ve given you so much shit recently, so here, have this. I’m sorry.
“So, do you need any help… sir?” Teddy asks me. My knees are no longer shaking. He has a warm aura that makes me ease up around him.
“If you could get me a job and a better brain, that would be nice,” I laugh. His eyes widen.
“Do you want a job here?”
“I was joking, I—”
“Come into the office, I can interview you right now,” he says, gesturing for me to follow him.
“I’ve been looking for someone for ages,” he adds.
I didn’t even say yes, but I find myself following him anyway.
I’m smiling widely until I realise he’s taking me into the office to do an interview, one I’m not prepared for.
I take a look at what I’m wearing: a white t-shirt, black denim shorts, with a grey checkered flannel wrapped around my waist. Okay, so my outfit is nice, just not interview material.
I hope he doesn’t hold it against me. I take the shirt off my waist and put it on properly.
He opens the office door and motions for me to sit on the chair opposite him.
If I’m being honest, the ‘office’ looks more like a cupboard than an office.
Piles of boxes (probably filled with books) line the walls and furniture that need to be assembled are on the floor next to the desk.
I can’t judge though, my room at Kai’s already looks like a bomb went off in it.
Fuck I sound like my Mum, what’s happening to me?
“Are you ready to get started?” Teddy asks. Teddy. God, I love that name. I want to hug him like a teddy bear.
I’m partially joking.