Grace's Bookstore

Chapter 5

Noah ended up going to the library anyways, unsure of where else to go, and anxious. Because being left there on the staircase, attempting to gather his thoughts, heart racing, he noticed the camera.

It was small, almost imperceptible, the only reason he noticed it was the light blinking red. Somewhere, someone had seen, or there was a recording of it. The thought made him spiral.

How would Damien react to getting caught? How will other people react? It was only after a few minutes, when he was basically in the library already, did he think: Wait, how do I feel about getting caught?

He pushed it aside, simply not having enough time to stop and think about how he felt. A project was due, homework was due, and the end of second period was fast approaching. Not to mention he still hadn't gotten Luka a gift. After Damien's, he decided, for sure.

His stomach gave an anxious flip thinking about this afternoon. He would be in Damien's house, for better or worse, practically alone. He didn't even know where Damien lived, let alone how he lived. He had mentioned his parents wouldn't be there, and it would just be his staff, but how beautiful was his home? How fine were the decorations? How expensive were the walls and floor? How plush was the furniture? He didn't know. Is what I'm wearing ok to be in his house? Or is it too cheap? Will it ruin the feel of whatever interior design there is? He didn't know.

When the bell rang, he realized sharply he hadn't even opened his tablet, but now it was too late. He jumped up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and ran to his third period, trying to keep his head empty and focused not on Damien.

Third period was English, and he sat alone, silently in the back, as he didn't know anybody in it. If he was being honest, he preferred sitting alone though, leaving him to watch their discussions, listening but not participating. There was a lot of writing, and he loved it, but there were also a lot of group activities, and Mr. Medion constantly pushed him even though the other kids knew he would never speak to them. They were alright with that; he was a good listener. While they discussed, he wrote as they instructed him to, and quietly offered his opinions when he felt comfortable enough to.

Today, though, was a timed writing in preparation for their final at the end of the year. They weren't even given a prompt, just told to write a full essay by the time class was done. It had to have a beginning, middle, and end, a rising action, a climax, and a falling action, and was to be turned in and graded as a test at the end of the period.

Noah wrote about a flower, growing through her life, spreading her roots, and falling in love with a neighboring flower, until she was picked and left to die in a vase, away from her love.

Usually when he wrote, he spaced out entirely, tuning out the white nose and focusing only on what he was saying, on the point he was trying to convey. Sometimes it was a good thing, allowing him to disappear into work and not get easily distracted, but sometimes it dragged him through his thoughts and spat them out on the paper. Realizing too late that his story had taken a dark turn, he didn't have the chance to fix it, and sheepishly turned it in as the bell rang.

The walk from third to fourth period was his longest and left him horrendously winded, face flushed and breath shallowed. Every day he had to march from English on the second floor to Astronomy on the seventh. Every day he made the trek alone and every day he had to pause to catch his breath, setting a hand on the wall for balance and simply breathing before he picked his head up and walked to class.

In its defense, the Astronomy classroom was his all-time favorite. It had high vaulted ceilings and a glass domed roof and windows lining every wall. There were no desks, just plush couches and low tables arranged around a central blackboard, and Mrs. Solar was his absolute favorite teacher. Besides the obvious jokes about her name and her class, she really deeply enjoyed the subject she taught and would go on long tangents and conversations with them, derailing her lesson plans.