Call Me Blade✔

Eight: Can't get hurt

Saturday shifts at the bookstore are my least favorite. Shuffling around the store for 8 hours isn't my favorite yhing to do and leaves me drained at the end of the day.

I spend ksot of my time organizing books by making sure the shelves have the correct books. I'll spend the second half of the days doing inventory. 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 I've not been able to enjoy reading. My mom was a bookworm. She almost has enough books to run her own 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 told me about after she finished a book. I hadn't ever really read. I always preferred her telling me about the stories.

I sigh deeply, shaking my head of the thoughts about my mom that kickstart 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 not fast enough.

Most times people come in just to browse. We occasionally get someone from school but they don't ever bother me. Still, I try to steer clear of customers as much as possible.

I move over to a different aisle in hopes of staying out of the customer's way. I'm not fast enough because I almost run into them. I back up, signing *'Sorry'* to the girl holding a couple manga books.

Her eyes light up and she drops her books, signing rapidly to me.

I have a pretty good grasp of sign language, but she is clearly more versed than I am. I could get most of what she's telling me but I do miss some things.

She gives me a spiel about wanting to read Manga because this boy she likes reads a lot of Manga and she wants to try it to have a conversation starter, but she doesn't want to look like a poser.

I smiled in amusement at her excitement. She looks about my age. Maybe a year or two younger, but way more stylish than I'll ever be. Her straight black hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a cute floral dress with white frilly socks and black shoes.

She asked if I had any good Manga recommendations to which I responded that I don't read Manga.

She then asked if I have any romance recommendations to which I responded that Jane would probably know more than me.

She nodded, looking down and laughing when she realized she dropped the Manga she was holding.

*'Whats your name?*' She asked in sign.

*'Call me Blade.'* I tell her, and she smiled.

*"Call Me Ellie."* She trots off, browsing some more shelves as she smiles to herself. I can't help but watch her as she moves through the store. So content with life. She just radiates happiness.

I smile to herself, unable to ignore the pure joy that seems to come off her in waves.

Ellie eventually leaves, having chosen a couple more books to buy. I continue to keep myself busy by putting books in their proper place. Some days I really enjoy the mundane motions of work. Other days not so much.

Today would be a long one.

Three hours down; five to go.

****
Monday comes much faster than I would liek it to. Usually, the house feels more like a prison than a place I live but Melissa was gone all weekend so I got to bask in my lonesome without anxious thoughts.

I'm dreading school more than usual because I have to face Dustin today
I haven't seen him since I ditched him and his family without so much as a courtesy text. Maybe that will finally get the message across.

My stomach remains in twists as Englush class inches closer. My eyes immediately find Dustin as I step into the room. I hastily look away, finding a seat on the opposite side of class, right in front of the gossip girls.

*Great.*

The gossip girls have taken an interest in the new boy so they spend most of the session narrating his every movement. Not what I want right now.

I feel a tap on my shoulder that startles me. I turn behind me and see on of the girls leaning of her desk.

"Dustin won't stop staring at you," she says in what is supposed to be a whisper but really isn't.

I turn around, not bothering to check if what she said is true. Instead, I keep my eyes forward.

As the gossip girls keep reminding me of his presence, I can't help but feel guilty for how I acted. He was just being nice, and I acted in the rudest way possible.

Actually, scratch that.

I don't owe him anything. I don't know him. He doesn't know me. We're basically strangers and I has to stay that way. Me and my lonesome are all I need. All I have.

I repeat the words in my head like a mantra until any curiosity, hope or guilt is gone. You can't get hurt if you don't let anyone in.