𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣'𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙣

𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆

Saturn
• • •

Stepping through the doors of the Kenton bookshop was like stepping through Heaven's gates.

After riding the bus into the village, I knew that I was going to be a frequent visitor to the shop. It already felt like home to me, with its wide windows and dark interior. There were shelves upon shelves of books for me to befriend. Soft classical music playing in the distance. A few mysterious readers deep in books sitting on antique leather seats. I could finally breathe.

The bell above me dinged softly, declaring my arrival. The readers looked up from their novels. I felt bad for breaking their concentration. I glanced down at my list, returning to the task at hand. Zaire had been too busy with Henri to join me today, so I wandered the bookshop alone. I didn't mind being alone, it was quite peaceful, really.

Quietly, I went on my way, checking off each book on my list as I found it. Some of the titles and authors I recognized, such as Shakespeare and Margaret Attwood. I was a huge fan of The Handmaid's Tale and my essay on it was the reason I had managed to secure a place in the English program.

I sifted through old, untouched, or seemingly brand-new books until I had a stack heavier than my arms could carry. One fell to the floor with a thud. Shit. I'd disturbed the readers again. As I crouched down to pick up the fallen book, more fell from the top of the stack. A heard a soft chuckle from behind me.

"Need some help?"

I looked up, cheeks blazing.

Wow. He was tall.

It was a boy who had spoken. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed him before. His low and alluring voice froze me to the floor. Dark curls fell over his eyes as he looked down at me. He looked like art.

"You look like you could use some help," the boy repeated.
I needed some help breathing.

"I'm fine," I managed to utter. Why was this handsome boy offering me his help? I tore my gaze from his striking face and glanced down at his nametag. Calvin. He must have worked in the shop. It all made sense now.

"Just let me know," Calvin said, before walking back to his desk. My eyes followed him. I stood at last, managing to keep the book stack steady. Calvin did not look like the sort of boy that would choose to work in a bookshop. But what did I really know about Kenton boys?

I took my time wandering the store, stealing glances at Calvin and the other occupants of the shop. It felt nice to blend into my surroundings for once.

In this instance, Calvin was the one who appeared to be out of place. The readers in the nook looked kind, gentle, and were surly sharp as whips. Calvin wore a solemn, uninviting expression. Somehow, he made up for it with his attractive, sharp features.

I collected the first six literary works on my list and brought them to the register. I'd decided to put half of them away to purchase at a later date. My grandmother had given me a bit of spare money to use for books, and barely enough to pay for only half of the required books. Still, having hardly any money I considered that to be a success.

Once I'd finished paying I made my way over to the reading nook. One of the readers had left. I wondered if it was because of me. I sat in their empty chair, trying to deter my focus from the boy at the register, who had taken to watching me struggle as a source of entertainment.

I decided to begin the first book we'd been asked to read. I worried about the remaining six books on my list. Some of which were shorter, and wouldn't cost me much. Others were large, bulky classics that I surely didn't have the money for. I would finish the ones I'd bought today quickly, and then would need to search the shop once more.

As I read, my focus was broken by the strange feeling that someone was watching me. I glanced up at the register. Calvin was studying me.

Perhaps having a reason to return was not such a bad thing.