palaces out of paragraphs ~ camila/you

chapter one

When I was younger, on the exact day I turned 17, my parents got divorced. I left my beach town in New Jersey to go live with my mother in her childhood hometown of Brooklyn. I graduated by being homeschooled in a year, and got a full ride to Brooklyn College. Brooklyn is a strong unusual place, but it's known to me in my later years in life as my adventure. Everyone gets something thrown at them that changes everything, but in a good way. To me, Brooklyn changed my life, but working at the Book Nook improved it.

My mother had always wanted to open up an independent bookstore, and the Book Nook was her dream that came to life when I was given money for college by my father. She decided that since I was being paid to go to school, she could afford to buy the flat above as well as cover any other expenses I need for my schooling.

The Book Nook was cozy. It was like a taste of a wiped-out culture that many forgot about. It had shelves and shelves of books. Some were even stacked on the sides; That's how many books we had. It was a rather quiet shop, usually with some band my mother would discover on her Pandora playing softly into the background. Tables and chairs of all shapes and sizes were lined around the store, and in the front was a lone cash register that was very old, but always gave out exact change when needed.

My mother and I used to be the only two who worked at the bookshop, until one day a girl came in with emerald green eyes and dark brown, almost black, hair pulled back into a messy bun. She said her mother took her here once when they went on a trip to New York a while back, and she would like a job.

My mother only ever gave a job to someone who applied, never someone who came in when there was a 'Help Wanted' sign dangling through the window. The only person who she ever hired was Lauren Jauregui.

Lauren was a child born into the wrong generation, whether she would admit it or not is rather nebulous. She wore ripped jeans and turtlenecks often, and would doodle on my notepads whenever I would go out to get coffee for my mother. She was excellent at cataloging, and she adored poems. She wrote poems often, and every Friday night she would read her work whether we had customers or not.

She was, also, the most volatile person you could ever meet.

When Lauren believed something, she fought for it as if he life depended on it. She wasn't stubborn; She was just a person who fought other's beliefs. She always had a question ready in her back pocket, and she always was thinking. Her eyes made it look like she was always thinking.

I was convinced Lauren and I would end up running the shop together when my mother retired. My mother also liked to joke around that we were soulmates, because we both counteracted each other like forest fires and floods.

So, Lauren and I did try. We tried once, and twice, and then again. We had our good times and bad, but I suddenly realized we were both polar opposites. Yes, it was true I loved her, but I don't necessarily think it was true love. More like an affinity to each other. We fought behind closed shop doors and reconciled in front of open ones, but I knew that we would act like nothing changed a week later. That we were still just friends.

However, my main focus as I always made clear, was my schooling. I commuted every day to school, either walking or riding my bike. I was dedicated on proving to my whole professors, my mom and Lauren, and the entire world that I had a story to tell. And when you live in New York, it gets quite difficult to get someone to stop and listen.

One day in the shop, I was 18, going on 19. Lauren was out getting coffee, and I was sweeping the floors and checking to make sure everything was in place. We had just started a new shelf called Blind Date with a Book. It was a row of books wrapped in brown paper, scribbled with a few facts about the book.