“Hot new baseball player?” I ask, mostly to myself. I walk around the line to the front and then push my way through the door to get inside. “Excuse me. Sorry. I’m not butting in line. I promise,” I say when I get more than a few dirty looks. I’ve never been inside Plot Twist, and it feels a little like crossing into enemy territory, if I’m honest. The bookstore is smaller than ours and has a more dated feel, like a library or your grandfather’s den. The lighting is dim, and the color scheme is all wood and dark colors. I glance around for Walter, the store owner.
