Page 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Labor Day weekend is packed full of extra homework, a dress fitting, a barbeque at Ava’s brother’s apartment complex, and the street fair. Now that we are back in school, I’m having a hard time getting online to search for #NoMoreShame videos and entries. But I’ve started getting up an hour earlier every day—no easy task—and I dedicate that time to my online search. Then it struck me that I can also carve out time to read at the end of each day, so I crawl into bed a little earlier each night and spend time reading every day as well. I don’t get as much of either task done as I did before, but I feel better about doing a little every day instead of none for days on end.

Because Brent and Chris are friends, I’d hoped to see Brent at Joel’s barbeque. No such luck. My heart stopped beating a mile a minute with anticipation about an hour after I got there and realized he wasn’t coming. It was awkward seeing Chris after what Brent told me about him, but hopefully I managed to act normal enough that he doesn’t realize I know he actually likes me.

Using one of our brochures as a fan against the heat, I wave it faster, hoping to cool my flushed skin a little. I shift my tired butt on the uncomfortable folding chair. After three hours of sitting in this booth at the street fair, I’m regretting my promise to stay all day. Lincoln, who just finished his shift and has been replaced by Ines and Gayle, tried to warn me that these things are grueling and boring as all get out and they make for a long day, but I thought he was just trying to take some pressure off me so I wouldn’t feel obligated to stay. Note to self, when the perpetually happy guy says it sucks, listen to him!

The street fair is made up of vendor booths selling a variety of things from food to art to chair massages. I’ve always loved visiting the annual event and am bummed to be stuck behind a table. If we do this again next year, maybe we can use some of those volunteers that have expressed interest in helping in the organization.

A girl walks by with a waffle cone dripping melted ice cream down the side. My stomach growls loud enough for Gayle to hear.

“You should go get something to eat,” she says. “Ines and I can handle things while it’s still slow. Walk around a little, too.”

I look over at Ines who’s completing the sale of a tote to a younger girl. I think the girl is sharing her own shame story. Ines is very focused on what she’s saying. It’s inspiring how many people have shared stories today or stopped by to thank us for watching their video. I feel like we are really making a difference for the people in our community. The more I do this, the more I realize how important it is for people to feel seen and heard.

Regardless of all the good feelings, the temptation to escape is too much to pass up. With a nod to Gayle, I grab my purse and bolt.

I stop to get a dumpling and stroll from booth to booth while I eat. After I’ve finished my food, I get a frozen lemonade and continue strolling. I find a tiny silver fairy charm on a delicate silver chain that I buy for Bek because it reminds me of her. I stop to browse the hand-painted scarfs, the novelty socks, and the t-shirts. A few people ask me about my own shirt, and I’m happy to point them in the direction of our booth and let them know that the proceeds will be donated to Shame-Less.

A huge booth stretches across the street from curb to curb, indicating the end of the street fair. Inside the booth is shelf upon shelf of books. I smile when I see a banner announcing the booth is indeed Beckett’s Book Shop. I immediately head into the tent. I wave at Callie who is helping an old man at the far end of the booth. Then, I spy Brent holding a stack of books in one arm and wandering around shelving them.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a book for a friend.”

Brent turns, a pleasant expression on his face. When he sees me, his smile expands with pure happiness. “Sam! What a nice surprise.”

His eyes scan the tent behind me.

“Is it really?” I ask. “Haven’t you seen other kids from school? Or am I the only student who stopped in who doesn’t read?”

“Didn’t read,” Brent corrects with an arched brow. My pulse stutters. “Yes, I’ve seen a few. I’m surprised you’re alone, actually.”

“I’m working a booth too.” I point to my shirt. When his gaze automatically drops to follow my finger, I realize I might want to stop pointing my boobs out to people. “But I’m on break. I found a sweet little gift for Bek already and thought maybe I could get another book for Ava.”

“Yeah sure.” He turns and gestures for me to follow. “I was hoping you’d come in. I have something for you.”

I frown. What on earth could he have for me? As we head toward what looks like the register, I glance around the tent. “It’s like a complete bookstore in here.”

Brent speaks over his shoulder. “It was a lot of work. Took us all day yesterday to set up. We had to hire a security guard to watch the tent overnight.”

“What if it had rained?”

Brent walks behind a table and reaches underneath. A tablecloth blocks my view of what he’s getting. “We have sides on the tent we can lower if it rains or gets too windy.”

“Fancy.”

When Brent stands, he plops two magazines onto the table next to the iPad register. “You haven’t been into the store, so you’ve missed the last two copies of Global Lit. I got them for you.”

My mouth drops open. “You saved these for me? That’s super nice, Brent. Thanks.”

“I was going to bring them to school,” he rubs the back of his neck, “but I got the impression you didn’t want to see me.”

I cock my head. “What gave you that impression?”

“You?” He’s looking down at the magazines instead of at me. His finger traces the letters of the magazine title.

“How did I give you that impression?” I shake my head. “And when? I haven’t seen you.”

“Well, that’s part of it. But then, even though you were polite and stuff when I asked about the book, you were also pretty dismissive. “

“That’s your fault.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Not mine.”

His eyes narrow. “How’s it my fault?”

I’m not sure I have the energy to do this again. I suck air in through my nose, hold my breath a second longer than normal, and then let it out in a breathy sigh. “Brent, I have expressed interest in you twice. You have rejected me both times. What do you expect from me? I can’t keep opening myself up like that.”

His expression is a mix of confusion and surprise.

I sigh again. “Come on. I was very direct both times. You couldn’t have misinterpreted me. How can you be so confused about it?”

“I didn’t reject you the second time.” He pinches the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “But now I see why you would think that.”

I’m too incredulous to speak, so I stare at him with my mouth open. I think I’m getting the same headache he has, because I suddenly want to pinch the bridge of my nose, also.

“I never said no that second time. And I thought we’d have more opportunity to discuss it, but then you never came back in. I finally got your number from Ava, but…”

“All of this happened.” I point to my shirt again even though I just told myself to stop.

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it adorably askew. “I’m such an idiot. I didn’t realize you would assume no answer was a no answer.”

“For someone who is so well-read, you sure are a poor communicator.”

With a sad smile, he says, “My dad tells me that all the time.”

For some reason, I’m having a hard time with this information. I still feel vulnerable, and I’m worried that I won’t be able to keep my emotions in check. The last thing I want is to cry on Brent’s shoulder when I’m barely talking to him again. I make my excuse with a shaky voice. “You know, I should get back to our booth.” I pick up the magazines. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. They’re a gift.”

That’s even more confusing, but I smile. “Thanks.”

I spin on my heel and leave.