Bookshelf Boy

prologue

Y E A R   10 

Two Years Ago

There was the sound of rain pelting mercilessly first, then the wet smack of trainers against the pavement outside of Tesco. A plastic bag splitting into two, multiple things hitting the ground and rolling, rolling away, then a very loud and very angry "fuck!"

He knelt down to pick up what had broken from the bag, but in the end, he stayed crouched on the ground like that, with his head in his hands in the middle of the parking lot.

Time passed. He wasn't sure how long, but eventually he could hear the sound of footsteps. Tentative ones, coming closer and closer and closer—

Then they stopped. Nothing for a while.

Until, "Are you...alright?"

It was a girl's voice. He raised his head slowly until his blue eyes locked with dark brown ones. She was drenched. Properly drenched. Her hoodie—a large cartoonish Mickey Mouse on the front—looked an entire shade darker than it should've been; her sweatpants were in no better shape. She had her hood pulled up to cover her hair, though some locks still escaped it, and she was wearing a concerned frown.

Maybe it was the worry so unabashedly displayed on her face, or her Mickey Mouse hoodie that made her look so utterly ridiculous he could've laughed. Or maybe it was how he'd reached his breaking point and was feeling particularly vulnerable. Whatever the reason, in that small space in time, he let his guard down.

It was strange. He didn't like talking and he didn't like people, and he wasn't one to pour his emotions out to anyone, nevermind a total stranger. That was revolting.

But...

He stared at her. She stared back, unblinking, and her gaze was so gentle and patient and open, like she wasn't standing in the pouring rain with her clothes probably sticking uncomfortably to her skin...

Fuck it.

"I've ruined everything," he spoke, his voice hoarse. It was the only thing he could bring himself to say. His eyes swept past her to the oranges scattered across the ground and underneath cars. "It's..." he shook his head. "Everything's ruined."

She followed his gaze to where the fruits lay. When she looked back at him, he was stunned to see a small smile on her face. He didn't understand. Why was she still here? Why was she smiling at him like that? Why was she...kind?

"No it's not," she replied softly, "you just need new ones."

She knelt down next to him and reached into her own shopping bag that he hadn't noticed until now. He watched as she pulled out a large, round orange, much better than the ones he'd picked out, like she'd scavenged the crate to find the perfect ones. For once, for a reason he couldn't possibly comprehend, he was at a total loss for words—all he could do was stare.

It was bright. So bright and clean and new. A brilliant orange. Beautiful.

She was beautiful.

A U T H O R ' S   N O T E

see you saturday :) 

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