Page 19 of Safety Net
“Kid, that’s what makes it a dud.” The older Black man Lincoln debated with came into my peripheral vision. He wore a plaid newsboy cap and a Mountain Pine Books gray tee. There was a set of thick glasses hanging from a brown neckband that he picked up to place on his nose as he stopped in front of the mystery section. His arms were full of books. Not only was I in the way of his reshelving, but I was also in Lincoln’s direct line of sight.
My jaw clenched as I wondered if I could escape upstairs and hide out until the coast was clear. But that’d go against every goal I had in mind today. I couldn’t keep putting this off. The universe had given me the perfect second chance.
Yeah, no. You’re not ready for this. You need more time. Please, run. Abort mission and run.
The stairs weren’t far. Four, maybe six steps until I could reach the bottom of them. They’d creak underneath my shoes all the way up, but Lincoln was so deep in conversation he wouldn’t even notice.
My planning cost me valuable time. Before I could take one step, Lincoln said, "You’re just jealous because your stack of Lee novels hasn’t sold, but my tip on stocking Carter paid off. Look, someone’s picked something right now—good choice, my friend. ”
Lincoln gestured to the paperback under my arm. “You’re going to love it. It’s one of my…"
He paused when he met my gaze. I tried to smile. I hoped my mouth responded to orders because I knew my lungs didn’t.
“Favorite,” Lincoln finished in a quieter voice. “Hey.”
The guy with him raised a brow and removed his glasses to get a good look at me.
I swallowed. “Hi.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LINCOLN
Iwasn’t supposed to be at another bookstore today. But something about Mendell’s campus bookstore unsettled me. The shelves were too glossy, the lights too bright, and the air reeked of cleaning supplies. The books I needed for this semester lost half their value as soon as I swiped my card. The visit was a necessary evil—a rite of passage to becoming a serious student. I often delayed buying textbooks until after the first week of classes. But between Jonah’s concern and Sam’s skepticism about my ability to pull it together, I needed to try. I needed to break my bad habits.
So, to make up for the torture of being an adult, I went to my favorite bookstore directly after stuffing my textbooks into my gym bag. I knew the old book smell would cleanse my palate, and Lenny was going to be on shift.
My new friend was an ex-retiree who knew all about the lore of Tinsel and hated how much I loved new-age mystery stories. Lenny preferred keeping things old-school and non-commercial.
“Not Doyle,” he would huff when I assumed. “And do not speak of Christie in front of me.”
“Oh, Len, you’re breaking my heart,” I lamented. “What did my girl Christie ever do to you?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem.”
See, Lenny was a fan of ultra-stuffy writing that waxed poetic about the meaning of cloudy summer mornings. There was a time and place for all kinds of literature (in my humble opinion). But God, if I contemplate the meaning of blue curtains again, I might quit reading for good. And that’d be terrible considering I started to develop a decent enough attention span for it.
While getting my weekly “bug Lenny” quota in, I also got to inquire about Carter sales. Sometimes I worried I was the only person keeping Mountain Pines’ mystery section alive. But then, I ran into Celeste.
She stood in the middle of my favorite section. My heart raced when I saw my favorite Carter book tucked under her arm and my favorite Holmes book in the other hand. The orange glow pouring in from the windows gave her quite the halo effect. Celeste’s smile was small, and her gaze was distracted, as if she were looking for something or someone else besides me. Maybe Naomi? She even seemed to prefer Finn’s presence. My mind began its familiar game of how to say the right thing to Celeste without fucking it up.
“I need to get a cart. Took too many books by hand again,” Lenny grumbled. He could read a room, and to be honest, wasn’t exactly working at the bookstore to make new friends. I just happened upon him like a stain on his Sunday’s best or a stub on the toe in the middle of the night.
“Need help?” I called after him as he shuffled away. He gave me a look and rolled his eyes before continuing.
I laughed and told her, “Believe it or not, I’m his third-best friend.”
“Oh?” She hugged the books to her chest, and they doubled as a shield. I stepped back a half foot to give her space and glanced at the shelf to offer her some sense of privacy. I touched a few spines, feigning interest. It’s difficult to fake the need tolook at books when she was here. Celeste was in my favorite store, holding my favorite book, and wearing my favorite color ribbons around her jean loops. Every time I’ve seen her in jeans, they include some type of bow. Today’s color was green. The ribbons reminded me of a jersey, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d look like in a Mendell Hawks hockey jersey. My jersey.
It was an embarrassingly attractive fantasy that made me lightheaded with want. A couple of minutes in Celeste’s presence already had me forgetting how to breathe. And I liked the struggle. Got high off it in some weird, pathetic, ‘I think this crush will consume every part of my self-respect’ way.
“Who’s one and two?” Celeste asked.
I barely heard the words. I replayed the sentence in my head a couple of times, but the meaning still didn’t click. I got distracted by her hair. It was braided in two, the green ribbons woven in there as well.
When we’d met a year ago, and I learned my typical nonsense wouldn’t capture her attention, I set off trying to figure out what would. The investigation didn’t get me much closer than an occasional polite greeting or rare smile. But it did confirm Celeste held the key to triggering a fire in my veins. She had a peaceful confidence about her. It was in those small details. The things that set her apart from me, Lenny, and every person I’d ever encountered. In her quiet, Celeste was her own person. She didn’t have to run her mouth like yours truly to be seen or heard. I couldn’t imagine her walking into a room unnoticed.
“Sorry.” I shook my head, trying to stay on task and not admire how pink her cheeks were. God, she was so beautiful. So out of my fucking league. “What do you mean?”
