Last Chance

There was a sweet smell of desperation in the air. People huddled in a panic between the bookcases, scanning them in the hope of finding what they were looking for. Rarely did their hopes come true, because in most cases it was already too late. Last-minute school shopping - a typical phenomenon occurring in the last week of the summer holidays. This shopping spree is often accompanied by the aforementioned desperation and a lot of irritation at the sales staff. Somehow, no one could have foreseen that there would be a Karen who still hasn’t bought all the books she needs and doesn’t understand the concept of “out of stock”.

Pushing sealed cartons of books along the ground, I apologised to customers who were unfortunate enough to stand in my way of the kitchen and diet bookcase. The clock on my phone indicated that I still had a little over an hour left before my shift ended.

“Where is Psychology For Dummies?” asked an exasperated voice from behind me.

With a forced smile glued to my face, I turned towards the girl who was measuring me with an expectant gaze. It was a wonderful case of a clientele that everyone would probably prefer to avoid with a wide bend. However, I had no choice in such a situation. Enlarging my fake smile, I indicated the girl to follow me. I did just 5 cows stopping at a tall bookcase marked with a rather large and prominent “health, family, relationships” sign.

“Author?” I asked, obviously not knowing all the books available by heart.

“I think you’re the one who works here and you should know that. You’re being paid for something, after all,” the girl remarked opulently, throwing me a disgusted look.

I took a deep breath, not stopping to smile. I couldn’t help but be polite because she was a customer. I bit my tongue, repeating like a mantra that the customer is not always right, but service should always be courteous. There was really very little left before the end of my last holiday shift and I didn’t want to spoil the rest of my day.

“I don’t see the book you asked about on the shelf. I can check if it’s in stock and possibly order it on delivery to the shop for tomorrow,” I stated, pretending to look for the book by the spines visible on the bookcase, “In that case, the book would be available for pick up tomorrow, or you can order it yourself to take home using our website.”

The girl, clearly inconsolable with my answer, glanced at her phone. She muttered something under her breath while typing a message on her phone, and I waited for her to graciously answer me something. Finally, when she lifted her gaze from the display, which was quite large for a phone, without a word she turned and started heading for the exit.

Thank you for your visit and you are welcome again never.

Without bothering about the situation, I went back to putting the new goods on the shelves. An hour, that was all that separated me from being free and going home. In turn, only a weekend separated me from returning to school and starting my final year. At the time, it sounded like a sentence, because graduation had until recently sounded like a distant reality, whereas it was just around the corner. What was a year compared to the whole life I still had ahead of me.

Before my shift ended, I still managed to unpack a few more boxes that came with the new delivery, but I wasn’t going to stay after hours for free. I let the other shift know about the new delivery and all in all I was free. I changed out of my work polo with the bookstore logo on it and jumped into my denim dungarees with a daisy pattern and a beige crop top. It was the end of summer, but the weather had stopped as if it were late spring. It had been a long time since we had had such a calm summer - without the oppressive heat that caused people to worship the air conditioner as if it were a god that had saved them from their misery.

I glanced at my phone to check how much time I had before the nearest bus, which, as it turned out, was about to leave from the bus stop. I started to head towards the bus stop with a quick step, glancing behind my back to see if my bus was still running. Unfortunately, running and looking back don’t go well together, because at the same moment I felt myself bumping into something hard. I wish it had been a lamp, or at least a wall. Falling onto the concrete pavement, I felt a strange and unpleasant sensation ripple through my chest.

“Well this must be some kind of pathetic joke!” a nervous voice rang out.

Croaking from the fall, I glanced down at my chest, which had a huge stain. A coffee stain that was most likely between me and the person I had the unpleasantness of running into. I was already about to apologise when I noticed Warrick Davies in front of me. My bad luck just seemed to have some peak form that day, until I dreaded what else might have happened for the rest of the day.

“Summers, why must your pathetic persona always spread this ginger chaos around? Have you thought to look ahead while running!” he growled, peeling off his damp white shirt, which had a huge coffee stain in the middle, “That skill could come in handy on the football field sometimes.”

Having somewhere to pinch Rick’s comments, I pushed past him and started running towards the bus stop again. My damp t-shirt was sticking to my stomach, and the smell of the aforementioned coffee wafted around me. Of all the possible people I could bump into, it had to be Warrick Davies. Warrick fucking Davies, the great lord and master, who has nothing but the tip of his nose, unless he’s busy sticking his tongue down the gullet of his “chosen one of the week”. One would think that none would be naive enough to chase after Rick, who is almost like a public space. Not only that, the aforementioned individual has nothing good to offer, not taking into account perhaps the appeal he was lucky enough to win in the genetic lottery thanks to his parents. Besides, Rick is a package deal that a person in their right mind would not accept even if they were to pay it. An arrogant asshole whose concept of respect is completely non-existent except in relation to the money he has solely and only because of his parents’ success.

Furrowing under my breath for the entire bus ride and walk home, I managed to turn even more negative. And with that, my beautiful last day of holiday flew by. Slamming the front door haphazardly, I entered the house immersed in thoughts of another school year. The last year of school sounded a little nostalgic. I had one last opportunity with my team to buckle down and prove myself in the inter-school volleyball competition. I felt like this was going to be the year, because even in the holidays we tried to get together for training to be fully in sync on the court together. It may not have been everyone’s dream holiday, but none of us were forced to turn up. We just felt that if we wanted to give our best then we had to make some sacrifices.

I was suddenly struck by the realisation that this was also the last year I had the unpleasant misfortune of bumping into Rick at school. And the world slowly became more beautiful, although I knew that in his place my bad luck would surely find another equally wonderful individual to make my days miserable.

“How was your last day at work? You guys had a busy one,” my mother’s energy-filled voice asked, coming from somewhere deep in the house.

I headed for the kitchen, where she was bustling around, cooking. Dad was sitting on a stool, watching his other half with a dreamy gaze. Her smile, as radiant as she was, was immediately shared with me. Mum, without waiting for my answer, returned to the conversation she and Dad must have been having a while ago. More to a monologue, as Dad only listened to her, nodding regularly. He was a low-key person, while Mom was spouting words like a rifle at an express pace. Unsurprisingly, Dad didn’t need words to fulfil himself at work, and code - computers prefer a different form of communication. Mum’s wordiness, on the other hand, was ideal for helping her fulfil herself in journalism, although at times I have my doubts about that.

They both seemed to be happy with each other and their lives, or at least they seemed to be, and in my heart I dreamed of having what they had - a person who could look at you endlessly as if you were the only person in the world, despite your yous.

Breaking out of my increasingly romantic musings, I exchanged a few words with them about my past day and settled into my room. I had a moment to myself before my mother finished making dinner or some uninvited guest barged into my house.

I immersed myself in unfinished reading, forgetting about the world around me. I put the past day out of my mind and absorbed the words as if my life depended on it. To some extent it did, because every moment of delay postponed the end of the book and the case led by commissioner Malin Fors. It was only the beginning of my adventure with Mons Kallentoft’s detective stories, but I felt that I would not be able to tear myself away from him so quickly.

My time spent reading was quickly interrupted, by a figure running through the door of my room to the accompaniment of joy. At the last moment I managed to bookmark the page I was reading when I was assaulted with an enthusiastic hug from Olivia Piper. Her level of enthusiasm and propensity for verbosity at times makes me wonder if we weren’t switched as children by some miracle. I hadn’t even had time to say a good hello to her when she launched into her gossip mode, or more accurately introducing me to all the gossip she was able to pick up - which meant quite a few of them.

“Gather up your reddish storm of curls because we’re going out! We need to end this summer with a bang!” she exclaimed happily, immediately finding herself at my wardrobe in search of an outfit that was appropriate in her eyes.

I wasn’t exactly feeling in the mood for partying, but I could see that I was on the losing end of a discussion with Liv. She was already almost all ready to go out and party. However, her outfit didn’t scream “girls’ night out” but more like “let’s party like there’s no tomorrow” and for the sake of that slogan she apparently decided to adjust my outfit, which revealed more than it covered.

It was going to be a night full of excitement with my friend walking around like a Duracell bunny already without alcohol.