[Complete] Ariel and the Bandits

3 - Cupid and His Firetruck

~February 28, 2020~

"Thanks for hanging out with me this weekend," Naz says.

"I mean, shoving a book cart as you organize the library shelves with my baby sister until midnight is how I'd want my weekend to start."

It's quiet and uninhabited at this time which is pleasant for public outings. The offseason is a blessing in that way too. The media doesn't want my attention until football season picks back up again. That or I do something incredibly stupid or viral.

Naz holds a book she's trying to put on a higher shelf when she sends me a dirty look. She looks back up to the shelves. I reach for my phone in my pocket.

"Hold that pose," I say. I open the camera app on my phone and snap a couple of pictures of Naz. "Now, look at me. Tilt your head. A little bit the other way--"

"Ollie," Naz groans. "We won't get done if you keep taking pictures."

"Sorry. Sorry," I say. "I'd be less fidgety if I could look around, but don't worry, I got some great double chin pictures that'll keep me distracted."

"Delete them," she orders. "And help me finish this. I'm not trying to stay past twelve-fifteen."

I pick up one of the books off the cart.

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite. I turn the book to look at the back.

"I might as well start a new reading list for the offseason," I say.

"Oh I actually read that one," Naz says. "It has a lot to do with family obligation and the things we would go as far as to do for our siblings. It's got a lot of dark humor and satire so it's right up your alley."

"I'll put it on the list," I hand the book to Naz. She furrows her eyebrows. "What?"

"We're on G, not B," Naz points to the sign on the shelf, "And we're on historical fiction."

"Your determination for accuracy is impeccable, little one."

"It's my job, ya doof." Naz picks a different book from the book cart. She expands her little stepping stool. "So. How are you feeling?"

She doesn't need to elaborate. I nod.

"I am doing better. Thanks for asking," I say.

Naz creates a gap between two books and places the book in her hands on the shelf before folding her stepping stool back up.

"I'm not hurting as much as I thought I would be."

"Why do you think that is?" Naz asks.

I shrug. "I guess part of me knew I was putting in more effort and not getting anything back. I don't know. Maybe I was buying Serena things to make up for my constant absence."

"Hey," Naz calls my attention. "You were not compensating. You saw her when you had the chance. She didn't want to do that because she expected you to see her. I get you guys were great friends in high school, and maybe she makes a better friend-- but that's not what you were asking of her."

She walks forward and around the corner. I follow with the book cart.

"More than anything, I feel anger at her choice of words-- or a lack thereof. As if she were doing me a favor."

"Oh she was doing us all the favor," Naz sighs. "Believe me, you'll know a soul-wrenching heartbreak when you experience the-one-that-got-away ordeal. But let's not hope for that." Naz hands me a book and points at a gap between books. "BRB. I have to pee."