“It’s definitely a thing.”

“I judged you, too. I had this awful idea of who you were before I knew you.”

“Why did you hate me so much?” she asked.

That was easy enough to answer. “Because I was taught to do exactly that.”

“Well, do you still hate me?”

“No,” I said. “Are you still afraid of me?”

“No,” she replied.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to keep up my monster persona around these parts.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, gesturing to the left where a group of girls were whispering. “I’m sure there are plenty who still think you’re the spawn of Satan.”

“Good. I can’t lose my street cred,” I remarked, and she laughed.

I liked it most when she laughed.

“Well, if you want to maintain your street cred, you should stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Smiling.”

I turned my lips down into a dramatic frown. Before I could say anything else, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a grown man recording my interaction with Grace on his cell phone, and I listened to him call her a “church girl whore”.

She heard it, too, and must’ve seen me tense up. “Let it go, Jackson,” she whispered.

Apparently she’d forgotten our roles in this town.

She was the town’s good girl.

Me?

I was the monster.

Without second thought, I walked over to him, snatched the phone out of his hands, and snapped it in half. Then I dropped the pieces into his cart and stared him dead in the eyes. “Do something,” I threatened, crossing my arms. “I dare you.”

His eyes widened with fear, and he swiftly pushed his cart away.

I walked back over to Grace, and she stood there stunned. “I didn’t know phones could snap in half.”

“Yeah, me either,” I replied honestly.

“I know I should scold you for what you just did, but truthfully, that made me feel really good inside.”

It made me feel good inside, too.

“It’s a strange thing, though,” she told me.

“What is?”

“When my Prince Charming is the rest of the world’s Beast.”

23

Grace

Each day that passed felt like a dream intermixed with nightmares. I saw both Autumn and Finn almost every time I left the house, and when I didn’t see them, they still crossed my mind. My thoughts were trying their best to destroy me, but novels and Jackson both served as great distractions.

Even when the world was dark, words in books existed. Therefore, I knew there would always be light around me even on the darkest of days. I often wondered if that was why Jackson read, too—for a few moments of light.

When I arrived at The Silent Bookshop, Jackson was sitting in his corner, and when he looked up, he smiled right away, revealing that left dimple. I hoped that was a new regular thing—him smiling my way.

I smiled back and walked to my corner. When I got there, I saw a book sitting on my table with a Post-it note on it. The novel was The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, and the note read:

I think you might like this, Princess.

-Oscar

My fingers ran over the cover, and I sat down and read for what felt like hours. The way the words pulled me in and didn’t want to let me go made my heart beat faster and faster. You knew a book was amazing when you missed the transition from the sun shining to the sky fading to black. I sat back there until the store was about to close, and then I walked to the front counter where Josie’s mom, Betty, was working.

She looked just like her daughter with those same loving eyes, and she signed my way as she said, “You’ve been here for quite a while—I’m guessing it’s a good read.”

“Better than good,” I told her, holding the book to my heart as my eyes watered over. “It’s one of those stories that just makes you want to yell and scream all at once.” It was the kind of book that made your chest ache, and even though you want to put it down to take a breath, you’d rather flip the page to know more than worry about such a small thing like breathing.

Jackson was right; I did love the story.

“I saw Jackson leave it back there on the table for you,” she mentioned as she rang me up. “Are you two friends?”

“No,” I answered quickly. “But we aren’t enemies either.”

She signed, “He’s a good man.”

She was the first person I’d ever heard say such a thing about Jackson Emery.

“He’s broken,” she continued, “but good.”

The idea that broken things could still be good was a thought that would stay with me for a while.

“I’m starting to see that in him—the goodness,” I told her.

“His mother was in the same car accident with my husband the night of that huge thunderstorm. Did you know that?”

“Oh my gosh, no…I had no clue.”

“Yeah. He was just a boy when he lost his mother. He adored her, and she adored him. After she passed away, I think a big part of him died, too, which is sad. I watched him go from this quiet boy in town to this bad seed. He loved her more than anything and losing someone that close to you is enough to make a person’s mind go dark. So him coming here to this bookshop means a lot for me. Even though he doesn’t speak my way or let me close, it’s almost as if I can watch over him. I’m sure that’s what his mother would’ve wanted. It’s what I would’ve wanted for Josie if I ever passed away. Someone to look after my loved one.”

“You’re a good woman, Betty.”

She smiled. “And he’s a good man.”

“Is it okay if I leave a book in his corner for him to find tomorrow?” I asked her.

“Of course, honey. I won’t move it.”

Walking back into the bookshop, I went in search of a novel to leave for Jackson. I thought back to books I’d read, and which ones made my heart race, wondering which one might do the same for Jackson.

My fingers landed on Long Way Down by Jason Reynold.

It had been a stay-up-all-night novel for me.

I grabbed it and a Post-it note and wrote:

It’s written in verse, and you’ll feel each word within it.

-Princess

We kept it up, too, exchanging notes with different books. It was good to escape my current reality into the world of novels. Plus, Jackson had great taste in books, which made it easier to fall into every single word. Each time I found a Post-it note, I felt as if I was walking into a new adventure. Even though the words we exchanged were only on small pieces of paper, I felt as if I was learning more about the hard man who didn’t let people in.

I was finally zooming in on the town’s black sheep, and he was zooming right back in on me.

*

This one will hurt you.

Let it.

-Oscar

*

This one will heal you.

Let it.

-Princess

*

This heroine reminds me of you.

She cries on every page.

-Oscar

*

This hero’s a total jerk.

Are you related to him?

-Princess

*

The last book you gave me was fucking sad. Is the town’s good girl really that dark inside?

I loved it. Now, read this one, which is even darker.

-Oscar

*

You always give me books that make me cry.

-Princess

*

I’ve learned it’s not too hard to bring you to tears.

-Oscar

*

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Five-star read.

More like this, please?

-Princess

*

Saw you at the bakery today. Your eyes looked sad.

Here’s a book you can’t help but laugh at.

-Oscar

He’d noticed me in town when I hadn’t even seen him. It made me think of all the times I saw him walking around town with Tucker in his arms, or just exploring when he didn’t know I’d seen him.

How many times had we stealthily noticed one another?

I started reading the novel he’d left me, and he was right—I couldn’t stop giggling. I was shushed a few times by others in the bookshop for my laughter being too loud, but I couldn’t help it. Sometimes, the best thing for a sad heart is a book that makes you laugh.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to get through the next few chapters without breaking into a giggling fest, so I stood to go back to Judy’s to read in my bedroom where I wouldn’t bother anyone.

As I walked through the space, I thought about the characters in the novel and kept giggling to myself. Then I passed Jackson’s corner, and he looked up at me.

I gave him half of a grin and held the book to my chest. “Thank you,” I mouthed.

He gave me the other half of my smile and nodded once before looking back down at his book. A half smile from Jackson Emery felt like so much more than the average person’s full-blown grin.

24

Jackson

Grace went against everything I’d been taught to believe about her. She was kind, gentle, and funny, the complete opposite of the snobby, rude, inconsiderate woman I had believed her to be.

That was hard for me to accept.

When you are taught to hate a stranger your whole life, it’s humbling to realize you wasted energy hating something that wasn’t even real.