Emily Yang (11) | STAFF REPORTER
The chimes sounded as we pushed our way in through the doors. I took a long stride forward into the bookstore. Eyelids drooping, I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the scent of dust, paper, and aged book covers. My comfort spot. From behind me, Mavi strolled towards the shelves lining the walls.
“You look insane. It’s like this is your crack or something,” she said with a face.
I smiled. Because it might as well be. Scouring the city for little bookstores and then hiding out between the shelves for hours. I could do that forever.
I made my way towards the classics, skipping the YA novels where Mavi was assessing a row of paperbacks. Even though all classic literature has to have been written at some point in history, I always feel like there’s an endless amount of it. There is always a new book to look through. The weird thing about classics is that something about them is just so interesting, while when I read them, I’m always so bored yet faintly amused. A few minutes of perusing had me wielding what was likely my pick for the day; Emma by Jane Austen and East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I had briefly skimmed through the pages of each when Mavi drifted into the aisle.
“Ready to go?” I asked, lifting my eyes from the pages.
“Yeah. Back to your house, right? I gotta text my mom.”
“My parents are going out for the weekend to hike. You can sleepover if you want, and leave for school tomorrow morning.” I offered. Today was the last day of summer break. The most depressing day of the year, as some may say.
“If I want? Of course I’m sleeping over.”
True. We always do a sleepover before school starts. Kind of like a sad little tribute to the end of summer.
“Ok cool. Text your mom, make sure she doesn’t freak out.”
We checked out and stepped out onto the street with our bags. That nostalgic end-of-summer evening breeze gently touched my face. Mavi walked closer to the street, allowing me to briefly catch my reflection in the passing store windows. Funny, how our brains can conjure up so much emotion from such an insignificant moment. I wore my hair clipped up in the back and had on black sweat shorts with a white boxy cropped t-shirt. I looked completely normal. Good, even. The remarkable part is how I felt at that moment. A year ago, to see my own reflection was a punishment. It had me flinching every time. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt neutral. Somewhat at peace with my body. A spark of pride and relief in my gut had me smiling to myself.
I’d had about two seconds of peace before I started to question myself. Am I going to be able to keep this up? How long will it be until I spiral back into that god awful hole of self hatred and guilt? Wow. just like that, the anxiety had already started to bubble up again. Forcing it out of my mind, I looked out into the street. The sun was setting from behind the buildings, casting tracings of bright yellow orange over them.
