Freefall ✓

06 | strangers

When I had all the answers, the questions changed.

—paulo coelho

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AUDREY

The habitual tinkling of bells greeted me as I pushed open the door to Rivera Books. Instantly, the crisp aroma of freshly printed ink on paper embraced my senses, feeling like a warm hug that welcomed me back into my world—the world of books.

"Oh, Audrey! Welcome back! We've missed having you here," Lydia called out kindly, as she walked towards me to give me a hug.

Lydia was a woman with a genuinely friendly aura of around forty who, along with her husband, owned this bookshop. Being the bookworm that I was, I'd discovered this place when I was thirteen and soon became its most regular customer. I suppose Lydia grew to like and trust me, because, to my delight, a year after she was offering me a part-time job as a bookstore clerk here.

Books had always been my safe place, my secure source of comfort. Working in a place surrounded by bookshelves felt like home. It was the storage space of hundreds of different wonderful worlds, each one bearing a collection of breathtaking feelings inside itself. Feelings that have been captivated by them when written and were waiting to be released when read. I could happily get lost in this marvelous universe.

"How have you been, dear? How's school? How's everything? How are you?" She began gushing.

"It's all very good. I'm fine, I really am," I provided her with an amiable smile. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, there's actually not much. . .but if you are in a hard-working mood today, there are boxes over there that have arrived this morning—"

"Got it. I'll sort them out!" I burst out before she could add anything else.

Leading my finger through the infinity of book spines, I let out a sigh of relief. Being here brought peace to my mind and, especially after everything that'd been going on lately, I really needed it. My tangled thoughts needed a break from the hazel eyes that appeared every darn time I closed my own. 

I began categorizing each book into its appropriate section. Abruptly, I stopped when a particular book appeared in my hands, the glossy hardcover smooth against my touch. The sight of a black tree with lime leaves over against a bold orange background triggered some heart-stirring emotion in me. Was it nostalgia? It'd been a while since I held this classic in my hands. 

Smiling to myself, I opened the hardback to the first chapter and started reading the opening I remembered all too well.

When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.

"Reading during working hours again, shortcake?" I contained my eyes from rolling and a small smile from striking my lips, as I recognized the cocky voice from behind me. Still without turning around to face him, I heard him skip down the steps, getting closer to me. "Good thing you've settled down for, huh, reading paid books for free," he continued, his teasing tone distinctive.

I turned around, at last, to face his towering figure and meet his playful emerald eyes. I almost forgot the fascinating deep hue of green those eyes concentrated.

Dominic.

It took just one glance at his smug grin for a multiplicity of synonyms of the word annoying to surge into my brain, like a dam wreckage.