Where does a broke kid with nowhere to go wind up?
The bookstore looked much smaller on the outside than it did once I stepped foot inside. There was a little bell on the door that dinged as I stepped inside and I could smell coffee and the crisp scent of old books. Glancing about, I noticed one person seated to the far side with a book in hand. He was a big guy with his hair pulled back into a bun, tattoos running along his arms—“Welcome!” Glancing toward the front, I noticed a girl with blue hair and a warm smiled, giving a wave. She too had tattoos and a lip ring, her black framed glasses thick and stylish. “A first timer?”
I nodded, glancing warily back at the guy who lifted his cup of coffee as if to salute me.
Giving a nervous smile, I turned back to the girl and
