In a strange turn of events, my mom goes to the store early on Saturday morning. She’d asked if I wanted to ride with her, but I was tired and needed a shower so I said no. By the time I arrive on my bike, it’s twenty minutes before the store opens and my mom is in a wonderful mood. I find her humming to herself while she erases the outdated message on the chalkboard easel we keep outside the store. 

It’s such a drastic change from her usual gloom and doom mood that I’m not sure how to handle it. I park my bike at the nearby bike rack and lock it up with my neon green bike lock that I’ve had since sixth grade.

“Good morning, Mom,” I say, trying not to act too surprised by her good mood out of fear of sending her back into a bad one.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Mom’s short brown hair is pulled into a tiny ponytail at the back of her head. The little strands of hair up front are pulled out of the way with a black headband. She looks younger with her hair like that. Or maybe it’s the smile on her face that takes a decade off her appearance.

“I’ve got great news,” Mom says, her eyes flashing excitedly as she turns back to the chalk board. She takes a chalk pen and shakes it back and forth before uncapping it. These pens are really cool because they’re liquid chalk, which lasts a lot longer than normal chalk. Plus they’re more fun to write with.

“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 one 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.