Bookstore Boy

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I've got shame, I've got scars, That I'll never show. I'm a survivor in more ways Than you'll ever know.

-Demi Lovato

I woke up on a Wednesday to see my friend Stella lying next to me, sleeping soundly. Her brown hair was splayed around her head messily, and she was snoring quietly. I grabbed my red framed glasses from the bedside table and took a deep breath before sliding them on. I crawled out of her bed and crept out of her room, trying not to make a sound. I walked up the stairs and into their living room, where Stella's 20-year-old little brother Ollie was laying on his back, playing Minecraft. Before I could say hello to Ollie, Stella's 16-year-old sister came in, twirling around.

"Hey Ollie, Hey Lola." Ollie sat up alertly and waved at me, relaxing a little. Lola crashed into me with a hug, making me give out a grunt.

"Sami! Ben re-followed me on Instagram last night!" Ollie shouted from his now upright position. Ben was a boy he had liked since third grade, good for him.

"That seems like an accomplishment, Ollie. We must celebrate!" I laughed I think the Bailin's had become accustomed to my unexpected sleeping over with Stella, and the racket in the morning, probably why they hadn't woken up yet. Stella flitted up the stairs, in a good mood like always.

"So what are we gonna do today?" Stella asked.

"Well," I started " Grambo here got re-followed by Ben on Instagram so I thought we could hit Starbucks first. On me."

A smile flashed across Stella's face. She didn't like the drinks at Starbucks, but she loved their baked goods. And right now I was starving myself except for Starbucks. Anything's better than cutting, right?

"I'm down with that. Then we could drop Ollie and Lola off and go to Barnes & Noble's." Stella agreed, "Let's get dressed! See ya in the kitchen in five minutes." Stella and I ran down the stairs to her room, followed by Ollie and Lola.

We ran into Stella's room and squeezed into Stella's walk-in closet. I spent so much time at Stella's house we had spent a day last summer making the empty side of her closet for when I was over.

I pulled a plaid flannel button up and a weekend warriors t-shirt off of their hangers and took off my pyjama shirt. I put on the t-shirt then put my arms through the button-up, leaving it undone.

Then I pulled open a drawer and took out shorts. When we were in children school, middle school, and high school, I had an irrational fear of wearing shorts, but now I don't see why.

I pulled down my sweatpants and squeezed into my shorts. For a couple of minutes, I tried zipping my shorts first, which usually worked for me, but these shorts didn't have it.

Then I attempted to button them, which worked but took a while and my shorts were squeezing my waist. I zipped up the shorts and swerved around to Stella.

She was wearing a zip-up military jacket with a built-in sweatshirt and a white long sleeve underneath. Her pants were ripped black jeans, and she had on brown leather combat boots.

And, to add just a bit of Stella to the whole thing, there was a crystal cat necklace. She had been waiting for me and had watched me attempt to zip up my shorts.

"Shoes and socks?" She said lifting her eyebrows and pointing at my bare feet. I laughed and turned around to grab socks and shoes. I took black Vans out of the four shoes I had there, and white no-show socks then slid them on quickly.