Without Merit(59)

Sagan smiles and grabs my free hand, pulling me up. “Come on. Let’s go to the bookstore.”

“There’s a bookstore here?”

He shoots me a crooked grin. “You know very little about the town you live in.”

“Technically, I don’t live in this town. I live fifteen miles from here.”

“You live in this county. It’s all the same.”

We walk down Main Street until we get to a small bookstore. When we walk inside, we’re greeted by a woman standing at a register, but she’s the only one in the store. It’s quiet, other than a soothing Lumineers song playing in the background. I’m shocked at how modern it looks on the inside. It didn’t have this much promise from the outside. The walls are purple, which is my favorite color. There are several bookshelves lining the wall full of books. The rest of the bookshelves are full of candles and merchandise.

“There aren’t that many books here,” I say, taking in the small space and the limited number of shelves.

“It’s a specialty bookstore. For charity. They only sell books signed and donated by the authors.”

I pick up one of the books from the shelf and open it to see if he’s telling the truth. Sure enough, it’s signed. “That’s kind of cool.”

He chuckles, but he continues to walk and browse the shelves like he might find something he likes. I pick up a few of the titles and inspect them but already know I won’t be getting one. I don’t have any money and I’m not about to let him buy me something else. We browse quietly until we get to a row toward the back of the store. Sagan stands in front of the books, fingering them, plucking a few out to read the backs of them. I just watch him. After a moment, his phone rings and of course he acts as though the whole world has to stop. He fishes the phone out of his pocket and looks at the caller ID. He sighs, disappointed, but answers the call anyway.

“Hey.”

He grips the back of his neck while the person on the other end talks. He glances at me briefly and then looks away when he says, “Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine.”

Everything is fine.

I’m curious who he’s talking to and if he’s referring to me and my situation when he says everything is fine.

He motions to the door to let me know he’s going to take the call outside. I nod and watch as he slips out the door to the bookstore. I walk over to a couch by the window and take a seat as I watch him on the phone.

“Can I help you find anything?” The woman behind the register is staring at me. It’s a little unnerving. She looks to be in her late thirties and her frizzy hair is piled into a knot on top of her head. She’s sitting behind a laptop, looking across the room at me, waiting on me to answer her.

“I’m good.”

She nods, but then she says, “Are you okay?”

I nod again, a little annoyed that this woman is asking me if I’m okay. That seems a little intrusive. I glance out the window again and Sagan is pacing back and forth, doing very little talking. He’s mostly listening to whoever is on the other end. He squeezes his forehead at one point, which makes me sad for him. He seems stressed and I can’t help but feel a little guilty about that.

“Is he your boyfriend?” the woman asks as she makes her way over to me. I try to keep my eyes from rolling, but I’m pretty sure it’s obvious that I’m not in the mood to make small talk.

“No.”

“Brother?” she asks, taking a seat on the couch across from me.

“No.”

She gets comfortable and looks out the window at him. “He’s cute. How do you know him?”

If I stare hard enough, I wonder if Sagan will look inside and see how desperate I am for him to come save me. Until that happens, though, I have no choice but to answer this woman’s questions. I try and answer them all at once so it’ll leave her no room to ask me more.

“He’s a family friend.” I point down Main Street toward the courthouse. “He kissed me for the first time over there. But he mistook me for my twin, which is the only reason he kissed me, so it was an accidental kiss. I’ve tried avoiding him for the past few weeks because I thought he was dating my sister. But last night I dressed up as her and kissed him again, only to find out he’s not even dating my sister. We got into an argument and he left, so I went to my step-uncle’s room and he was having sex with my brother. So I got drunk, swallowed a bunch of pills and almost killed myself. Sagan,” I point outside at him. “That’s his name. Sagan thought a sugar cookie and a bookstore would make me feel better, so that’s why we’re here.”

The woman’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t look shocked. Just a little overwhelmed by the info dump. She eventually leans forward and says, “Well, he sounds like a keeper. There really isn’t anything better than sugar cookies and bookstores.” She stands up. “You thirsty? I have soda in the fridge.”

Anything to get her away for a minute. “Sure.”

She walks toward the back of the bookstore, just as Sagan ends his call and walks inside. He glances around the bookstore before spotting me on the couch. I stand up when he makes his way over. “Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

I nod. “Was it my Dad? He checking up on me?”

Sagan doesn’t answer me. Instead, he just slides his phone in his pocket and says, “You want to go home?”