Saturday shifts at the bookstore are my least favorite. I don't mind where I work but working for a full 8 hours is tiring.

I'm organizing books. Double checking the shelves to make sure everything is properly sorted. The job is tedious but I do it well.

I'm not a big reader. Surprisingly enough. It would make sense to read a lot since I work in a bookstore but in recent times I've not been able to enjoy reading. My mom was a bookworm. She practically had her own personal library. She used to always tell me her favorites from a book. Her favorite passage, a quote that stuck with her, a character she admired. There was always at least one thing she would tell me about a book she finished reading. I hadn't ever really read. I always preferred her telling me about the book.

I sigh deeply, shaking my head of the thoughts about my mom that kickstarted the ache in my chest.

The dinging of the bell alerts me of someone entering the store. I hear Jane greet them and ask what they are looking for. She directs them to the historical fiction aisle which is where I am. I hope to dodge whoever it may be by going somewhere else but I'm too slow.

I'm surprised to see Miriam come into view, her face immediately breaking into a smile when she sees me.

"Hi, Blade." I give her a small smile in response to her greeting.

"I'm looking for City of Girls," She informs me. "Do you know if you have it?"

I nod, reaching into the box and pulling out the crisp new book. I was just looking at it before I dropped it back in the box in hopes of dodging a customer.

She grins. "Thank you!" She turns around and goes to pay up. I continue my task at hand with putting books in their proper location.

Three hours down. Five to go.

****

I haven't seen Dustin since dinner at his parents' house. I have onvinced myself that the speck of disappointment I felt was because I wouldn't get another home cooked meal.

Deep down I know that's a lie.

I enter English class, my eyes scanning the room at their own accord, the speck of disappointment returning when I realize Dustin isn't in class

I chastise myself for letting foolish thoughts of friendship penetrate my mind. I am a loner. I'm alone. I always will be.

I repeat the words in my head like a mantra to harden my shell again. Can't get hurt if you don't let anyone in.

When Dustin enters the class late as usual, I keep my head down. He plops down next to me, his breathing laboured and erratic.

"Good morning," he blows out, shooting me a bright smile. His hair is stuck to his face as sweat drips down his face.

What was he even doing to have him so worked up this early?

I ignore him, telling myself that I don't care. I focus back on my schoolwork, unable to focus because of the brown skin boy beside me.

I continue with my mantra. You can't get hurt if you don't let anyone in.