sonder

sortable

Chapter Twenty Two

Sortable

(adj.) a person you can take anywhere without fear of being embarrassed.

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"Which one of the favourites is it today?" I ask Kali, walking up to the counter where she's perched on the stool. The bell signalling Mr. Harvey's disappearance still faintly vibrating throughout the stretches of books. She holds up the novel's cover to me, the title not registering with me as one that I've read before.

"Mr. Harvey recommended it to me, I think, the second year I started working here." Kali explains, her eyes wide as she waits for me to say anything. The deadness of the store allowed for her to take some time to read rather than just restock the shelves, something that seems to be uncommon especially since it was midsummer.

"The Book Thief, huh?" I respond. "I've never read it before." I admit, glancing down at the open page she has facing her. The words seem to jumble together before me as I take it in, trying to decipher what makes this one so special to her as if it'll give me her entire life story.

"It's really good, a little slow to start but it's incredible." Her voice changes to one of endearment as she looks back down at the crinkled, yellow pages suggesting that it had been read many times over. That made me want to understand the book even more.

"How long have you even been working here anyways?" I find myself asking after not being able to crack the code of the novel. My upper torso leans against the counter, my bicep grazing against the cash register that looked like it hadn't been upgraded for a newer model since the 80s.

"I," Kali looks to the ceiling as she thinks, the gesture making me wish that I could understand her better. "I think it's going on four years now. It was at the beginning of the ninth grade, that I do remember... Actually, it may have been the eighth grade, I don't really remember." She chuckles at her forgetfulness, something I envy her of. I often wish I couldn't remember exact dates and times of all the little details of my own life, it would save me a lot of spiralling.

"Wow." I breathe out. "That's a long time to be working. I mean, when I was in the eighth grade the only thing I was worried about was playing Spin The Bottle in my friend's basement." The feeling of stupidity hits me in a wave, making me realize just how immature I had been. Prepubescent, acne infested younger Damian was also not a piece of myself that I was super proud of either.

"Let me guess, first time you ever kissed a girl was at said party?" Kali teases, her eyebrows raising with a smirk on her face.

I instantly try to deny it; however, the honest side of me that Kali brings out wins the battle. "Yeah, it was." I finally fess up.

"Why do I have the feeling there was like green carpets and panel on the walls at this party?" She ponders aloud. "Like I have this weird image of you, before the whole alternative rocker took over, sitting in this dingy basement with a bunch of kids with braces." Kali describes, her face scrunching up as she continues with the details. "I can practically smell the stench of teenage boy sweat mixed with Cheeto dust and video games."

"Very funny." I state, not so impressed with her image of me; although, she wasn't exactly wrong. "It was actually like a light grey carpet if you must know." I correct her, feigning being hurt by her comments.

"And the video game plastic smell?" She interrogates.

"Overpoweringly obnoxious, nearly choked from the air pollution when you walked downstairs." I answer, the relief of being able to laugh at myself for that entire moment was cathartic. I remember dwelling on how horrible the scene was, what I would have done differently, why I shouldn't have even participated in the first place... I did that, for months.