by Amy Sparling
“What’s the good news?” I ask.
“It’s not good news, it’s great news,” she says. She leans back to let me see what she’s writing on the board.
NOW AVAILABLE, she’s written in big block letters.
Anticipation ratchets up in my chest as I watch her write each letter of what’s “now available” at our store. When she’s finished, she turns to look at me, her expression so hopeful it makes me feel really bad for what I’m about to say.
“Bestselling books?” I read the sign again to make sure I hadn’t imagined it. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Natalie,” Mom says sharply as she stands back up, capping the chalk pen. “I don’t need sarcasm or cursing. Come inside and help me unload the boxes.”
And boy is the front of the store filled with boxes. There is also one new and rather large dark wooden bookshelf right as you walk into the store. It’s about ten feet long and taller than I am. I gaze around at the scene, so weirdly confused it makes my head hurt. “So we’re selling books now.” It’s a statement and a question and confusion all wrapped up in one.
“Yep!” Mom claps her hands together, then she takes a pair of scissors to the first box on the stack. “Only the bestselling books, of course. I’ve ordered five copies of the top twenty New York Times Bestselling books.”
I try really hard not to slam my head against the wall in frustration as Mom starts opening the boxes. “You know bookstores are a dying business, right?”
Mom rolls her eyes. “That’s why we’re selling only bestseller books. They’ve already proven that people like them, so we’ll be offering books people actually want. Plus, we’re not a bookstore. We’re a gift store that also has books.”
“But people buy books they want from actual bookstores,” I say, taking the handful of new hardbacks she gives me. “Or, more accurately, they buy them on Amazon.”
Which is why bookstores are going of business, I want to say. But Mom has that look on her face that tells me she won’t listen to anything I have to say right now. She’s the parent and she knows best. At least, that’s what she thinks.
“Natalie, this is a good idea,” she says as we work on filling up the new bookshelf with the new merchandise. “We’re a variety gift store and we sell many different items. These books are going to sell and we’ll become everyone’s favorite place to buy the next big book from. You’ll see.”
“Okay,” I say, deciding that I’d rather see her in this unusual good mood than burst her bubble by telling her how stupid this is. “I’ll start putting them in inventory.”
After the book-packed events of the morning, things settle down at the store. Mom hauls all the empty boxes out to the Dumpster, and I take some photos of our new bookshelf to post onto our social media sites. The books do look pretty cool on the shelf, and they have that delightful new book smell, and there’s even some Young Adult books I’ve been wanting to read. But I can’t help thinking this is a dumb idea.
By lunch time, Mom suggests that I should go out to the boardwalk and pass out the fliers she’s made up for the store. They advertise our new book selection, and although I hate passing out fliers on the beach, I wouldn’t mind getting some sun.
And getting away from my mom. She’s being so happy and optimistic about these books and it’s creeping me out. It’s like she’s a totally different person than she was just a few days ago when she was talking about getting a real job.
Luckily, the weather has cleared up from the storms over the last two days, and it’s bright and sunny. I don a pair of oversized sunglasses and pull my hair into a messy bun and then I start handing out fliers to people. As I walk along the boardwalk, I pass by the video game store and think about asking them if I can leave some fliers on their front counter. I figure nerdy people play video games and so they might also read books, right? Or, at least the parents who buy games for their kids might be interested in books.
I approach the store and start to reach for the door handle when I see the large sign on the wall.
OUT OF BUSINESS
I stop, gazing up at the Games & More sign. It’s been covered with a black tarp. The store is completely empty inside, all of the former shelves of video games are now collecting dust. When did this happen? It was only a week or so ago that I came in here to trade in some used DVDs for cash.
Then I see it. The sign of betrayal that is so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. Jack Brown Properties is printed on the bottom of a sign that’s been placed in the window.
He bought the video game store. And now he’s coming after The Magpie. I grit my teeth and head back down the boardwalk. I’d been doing a half-assed job of passing out fliers before, but now I’m determined. I will give a flier to every book loving person on this damn beach because I will not let Jack Brown buy our store from us. I don’t care what it takes—I will sell every copy of those books my mom bought. Just thinking about earning enough money to forever be able to tell Jack Brown to piss off gives me motivation.
When all of my fliers are gone, I head back to the store and make copies of more. Mom had printed two fliers per page, but I shrink it down into four per page that way I can print twice as many.
While I’m cutting the papers into quarters, I call April. “Please tell me you’re not doing anything exciting,” I say when she answers.
“That depends. Do you find laundry exciting?”
“Damn,” I say with a fake sigh. “You’re clearly having a very fun filled Saturday. So I guess I can’t talk you into coming to the store and helping me out?”
She laughs. “What do you need help with?”
I explain the books and the fliers. “That sounds fun,” she says. “I’ll have my mom drop me off and I’ll tell her to browse the books, too. She’s a big reader.”
My heart swells with gratitude. When April and her mom arrive, my mom immediately shows off the new books. April’s mom and my mom have only met a few times, but they always act like they’re close friends. We watch while they gush over books and when April’s mom chooses three to purchase, my mom gives me a big smile.
April and I leave the moms to themselves, and we venture out onto the boardwalk. “So how’s your tutoring going?” she asks.
I shrug. “I think I’m going to kick ass on my Chem test this Monday. I studied that stupid review website so many times that I’ve actually memorized things. Like…academic things.”
“Awesome,” she says. “I’m glad you’re getting help but it sucks that I have to walk home alone two days a week.”
“You could always hang out in the library and wait for me,” I offer. That sounds epically boring, but April seems like the kind of person who wouldn’t mind. She could get her homework done, because she’s also the kind of person who does her homework.
“I would, but I don’t want to be a third wheel,” she says, turning a random grin on me.
“Huh?” I say, stopping to hand a flier to an elderly couple. “Hi there! The Magpie now has a selection of bestselling novels in stock. If you’re interested, you can bring in this flier for an extra ten percent off!”
After they leave, I turn back to April. “There’s no third wheel in tutoring,” I say with a laugh. “But I have to warn you, you’ll probably be bored to death.”
She smirks. “Oh come on, Nat. You don’t have to play dumb with me.”
I stop mid step and turn to her. “What are you talking about? I am dumb. That’s why I have tutoring.”
She rolls her eyes. “You also have a little crush on tutoring, I’d say.”
Okay, now I’m really confused. “What the hell are you talking about? I hate tutoring.”
“Are you seriously not admitting it to yourself?” April shakes her head and hands a flier to the guy selling hot dogs from a cart. “You’ve been talking about Jonah nonstop, Nat. Like…every day since you started working with him.”
“Uh yeah, because it sucks. I hate tutoring. You’re the on
e I vent to every day.”
She gives me a look and her intentions are unmistakable.
I put a hand on my hip. “You think I have a crush on Jonah?”
“You said it, not me,” she says with a shrug.
I laugh. “I do not have a crush on him. He’s like the hugest nerd on campus.”
“Oh come on. He’s totally cute,” she says.
I feel my cheeks warming, even though I have no reason to be embarrassed. I guess I’ve never thought about it before but Jonah is kind of cute. I mean…in a nerd way.
“Absolutely not,” I say instead. “He’s not cute. He’s just a guy. He’s uptight and too smart and so nerdy it makes my head hurt.”
“And he has a great smile and pretty eyes and you’ve said like three times that he smells good.”
“I only said that because it’s unusual for a teenage male to smell like anything other than body odor or cheap body spray.” I’m getting defensive, but I can’t help myself. Jonah is a total dweeb. I don’t like him. He’s not cute. I could never stand dating someone who’s so unbelievably nerdy. “April, you’re losing your mind if you think I have a crush on the guy. He’s just my tutor. He’s not even my friend.”
“But he could be more than that,” she says in a singsong. She bats her eyelashes at me for emphasis. I shove her into a light pole.
Chapter 11
My life has taken a weird turn. In just forty-eight hours, things have happened that I would have never in a million years believed.
I studied chemistry so much I actually learned it.
The Magpie is now selling books and by that, I mean we’re selling books. Twenty four were sold on Saturday and at least that many more sold on Sunday. We make around seven dollars a book so that was a huge income boost.
Finally, and probably the most shocking turn of events ever—I can’t stop thinking about Jonah.
I mean, what?
Why?
He’s Jonah. He’s an uptight nerd. He has perfectly styled hair and pressed, wrinkle free preppy outfits, and he organizes everything in such a way that means he’s so unbelievably nerdy I want to die.
And of course, April had to run her stupid freshman mouth and put the idea in my head that I might have a crush on him. I don’t.
I totally don’t.
He’s just like that stupid car wash jingle they play on the radio that gets stuck in your head for days at a time. Jonah Garza is just an annoying jingle. Not a crush.
On Monday, first period math class seems to fly by. I hadn’t told Jonah this because I’d be embarrassed for him to realize just how much he’s taught me, but I spent a little time last night on the school’s math website. I studied the modules for the chapter we’re currently learning in class, so that when Mrs. Mafi begins teaching it this morning, I’m already a little ahead of her. It makes more sense this way. I take notes and I pay attention, and the whole time I’m picturing Jonah in the back of my mind, that stupid lopsided grin on his face. He’d be proud of me if he knew this.
When the bell rings, I’m anxious to get to chemistry for our big test. Although I’d had a few nightmares this weekend of flunking the thing, I’m still pretty confident. The ChemXLabs website works so much better than filling out those stupid extra credit worksheets.
My backpack feels a hundred pounds heavier as I set it on the floor by my desk, knowing I still haven’t worked on the extra credit. But I did study for this test and I think I’ll ace it.
Mr. Greenstein passes out the tests, giving us detailed reminders that there is to be no talking until every student has finished. I hold my pencil tightly in my hand as I wait for my copy to land on my desk. Then I write my name at the top, and I take a deep breath, and get to work.
***
I’m clenching my chemistry test in my hands the next day after school, trying to remain calm. Mr. Greenstein passed back all the graded papers at the end of second period, but I’ve had to wait until my tutoring session with Jonah to show him the results. Though I never see him in the hallways between classes, I could have told him at lunch. I thought about it as I watched him sitting at a circular corner table in the far back of the cafeteria. Somehow, walking up to Jonah was just as intimidating as the idea of talking to Caleb at his lunch table. And that, of course, makes no sense because Caleb is my real crush. Jonah’s just my tutor.
I shake the resulting emotions from my mind. There’s no time to think about crushes and boys right now. It’s officially Tuesday, which is tutoring day, and all I should focus on are my studies.
Yeah, right.
I stand at the entrance to the library, wanting to catch him the moment he walks in. Students rush past the library on their mad dash home, and none of the dark haired guys who pass me are Jonah. He’s always here before I am, and by the time the hallway has emptied out, I’m starting to wonder if he’s ditching me today.
And then I get tapped on the shoulder.
I whirl around and find Jonah, who is somehow already in the library.
“Wha?” My mouth falls open. “I’ve been waiting for you. How did you get here?”
“I have computer lab last period,” he says, tossing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the adjoining classrooms. “I just come in the back way.”
“Oh.” I don’t know why, but I feel like an idiot. Standing around waiting for a guy is not something I like to do.
“My favorite color is blue,” Jonah says. “I know it sounds lame because most people expect that a guy’s favorite color is blue, but mine really is. It’s the color of the sky and the ocean, and both of those things are very different shades of blue all the time.” He reaches up and scratches his neck. “So that’s why I like the color. It’s beautiful in all of the shades.”
“Okay…” I say, giving him a weird look as we walk to our table in the back of the room. “Why did you tell me that?”
“Because you got a ninety-three on your test,” he says, giving me a lopsided smile as we walk. “I promised I’d tell you my favorite color once you passed a test.”
I grin. The graded paper is still in my hands and I almost forgot about it when Jonah startled me just now with his quirky smile and sparkling eyes. I hold it up and show it to him. “How’d you see that so quickly?”
“I didn’t,” he admits, setting his messenger bag down in the chair next to him. “I checked in with your Chem teacher today after lunch. I was dying to know.”
“And he just gave you my grades?” I say. “Just like that? I thought grades were private information.”
He shrugs. “Mr. Greenstein knows I tutor you so I guess he was happy to show off your excellent grade. Great job, by the way. You might be my fastest learning student.”
I sit at our table and rest my chin in my hand. “Does that mean I’ll get a smiley face sticker on my page in your notebook?”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t use smiley face stickers.”
“Well, you should. You can put it right next to that note you made about me.”
He clears his throat, but he doesn’t blush this time. It kind of annoys me that I can’t get to him like I used to. “So what are we studying today, boss?”
Jonah leans back in his chair. “Anything you’d like.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Really?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “You don’t have any major tests coming up soon so we have some leeway on what to study. Is there any subject you’re feeling the most behind in?”
“Yes,” I say, reaching into my backpack. I pull out the folder with the stack of extra credit papers. “I’m very behind in the subject of Extra Credit.” To prove my point, I let the folder drop onto the table with a thud.
Jonah chuckles. “Want to see how many you can knock out in the next two hours?”
My stomach twists into something that very much resembles butterflies as I watch Jonah. His little grin is pretty cute, not that I’d admit that to April. Or to myself. And there is something appealing about a clean cu
t guy who always smells nice. There’s no caked on dirt underneath Jonah’s fingernails, unlike just about every other guy ever. I have to resist the urge to lean in and close my eyes and inhale the nice scent of him.
I bite down hard on my tongue, trying to make the thoughts in my head go away. “I have a better idea,” I say, putting my hand on top of the papers. “How about we split them and race and see who can do the most in two hours?”
I wink as I slide half of the papers toward him. “I have a feeling it’ll be you.”
“Nice try,” he says, sliding them back. “How about you do your own extra credit work and I’ll supervise and help as needed?”
I drop my lips into a pout. “That’s no fun.”
“I never said it would be,” he says, meeting my gaze with a sultry one of his own.
I clear my throat. What am I thinking? Jonah isn’t being sultry. He’s being nice, that’s all. Get it together, Natalie!
I swallow the lump in my throat and look down at the papers in front of me. “How about a compromise?” I say, trying to summon up that flirty energy I’ve had in the other times we’ve been together. Now, it’s like it’s all been taken away from me, and my body has been overrun with conflicting emotions. I exhale and try to act like I’m not battling thoughts of Jonah being cute.
“How about I do the worksheets, but after each one, you have to answer a fun question?”
He considers it for a moment. “Okay, but I have the right to veto a question.”
“In which case I’d ask another one.”
“Deal.”
I can’t hide my grin as I take the first worksheet and write my name at the top of it. The idea of learning more things about Jonah has me motivated to answer these stupid questions, some of which are pretty easy because they’re from old lessons that I learned at the start of the school year when I was still attending class regularly. As I work, Jonah walks me through some of the harder problems, and I think about what question I’ll ask him when this sheet is done. Finally, I place it at the bottom of the stack and look at him.