The Boy with the Bookstore

by Sarah Echavarre Smith

“God, Joelle.” Another bitter laugh. “I know they should be put away somewhere safe—I did have them somewhere safe, in a display case. At my bookstore. But I can’t do that anymore because my shop is currently torn to hell with the renovations. So I have to kind of just make do with the shitty space I have now.” I bite my tongue at the tone he employs, like I’m a moron.

I’ve made it clear that I want to fix it and compensate him. He doesn’t have to be so mean, though. “Max, please don’t talk to me like I’m an infant who doesn’t understand the situation we’re in. I’m fully aware of how much this sucks. And I’m so sorry for what Pumpkin did. But it’s not like I meant for any of that to happen. Just tell me what it costs. I’ll pay you back. I don’t care if I have to make payments, it’s the right thing to do and I want to do it.” My insistent tone doesn’t seem to faze him. His bored expression and his lack of eye contact convey just how unaffected he is by my attempt to make amends.

He shakes his head and looks away as he rolls his eyes. “Look, I get it,” he says after a moment. “I’m an animal lover too. I have a cat and a dog, but you don’t see me dragging them in here every day, do you? There’s a level of professionalism here that I think we should uphold. That’s all I’m saying.”

this weird dynamic of ours, where one moment we’re good and the next we’re bickering and the unspoken tension is so thick between us you could hack at it with a knife.

This isn’t bickering though, it’s Max being a cruel asshole

I nod and try to smile, despite how heavy I feel. It’s like I’m carrying an invisible anvil on my shoulders just being in his presence. Like I’m always expecting to do something wrong that will set him off or make him get mad at me.

This sounds like the musings of an abuse victim

“God, I hate how expecting to meet a decent man is seen as a fantasy,” Whitney says. “Like, is it too much to ask for a sweet, thoughtful, respectful, well-groomed, and honest guy?”

Amen, the bar is in hell

I step closer to him. “Are you seriously rolling your eyes at me? After using my oven as your personal laundromat and almost setting the building on fire? You have got to be kidding me.”

Max is very “rules for thee but not for me” with his tirade about professionalism. He put a sweaty rained-on t shirt in her oven that’s used for her bakery. Despite his assertions that it’s clean, it’s fucking not and it’s extremely unsanitary.

My chest heaves up and down as I spit the words out when I feel my pointer finger jab against something very hot and solid. And that’s when I realize I’m poking Max in the chest with my finger. God, wow . . . that’s . . . that’s some firm bare flesh right there.

God, this is so fucking cringe. He talks to you like you’re an idiot, takes his frustrations from his shitty life circumstances out on you, and is generally a cruel asshole. And you’re salivating after him??? Sorry, I’m questioning this woman’s intelligence.

Good Enough Alone

Oh wow, asshole has a stupid, ugly, unoriginal, edgelord tattoo. Why am I not surprised?

Really sorry I’ve been acting like a dick lately. I’m having some serious personal problems that I’ve got no idea how to cope with and because I’m kind of a loner, I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it, so while I try to figure this all out on my own, my default is to act like a closed-off jackass.

GO. TO. THERAPY. Don’t have someone to talk to?? FIND A FUCKIN COUNSELOR INSTEAD OF PROJECTING YOUR ANGER ONTO UNSUSPECTING TOWNSFOLK.

And then he mutters “Jesus,” slams his laptop shut, and turns his attention to a stack of books on the edge of the table, clearly ignoring me.

This thirty-something year old man is a child. A child. Why are we rooting for Joelle to end up with him???

I did actually forget about getting together for lunch, and for that I’m sorry. But it’s not because of work

How many times is this girl going to stand up her supposed best friend because this guy “makes her” forget she has plans with her?

“Have fun,” he says. “I’m gonna go have a drink at the bar.”

Wait a second….hes not going to learn to make French pastries with her?? On the date he planned??? This is so fucking weird.

Max snapped at me loads of times in the first weeks that we shared our current workspace, but we weren’t a couple then, and I was giving it as much as I was getting it from him. Yeah, fighting sucked back then, but there’s something different about being on the receiving end of his anger and irritation as his girlfriend. Before it stung; now it cuts.

Uhhh Joelle definitely wasn’t as horribly cruel to him as he was to her. Idk what the author is doing trying to reframe it like this.

Max scoffs and rolls his eyes in full view of me.

This fuckin bitch

Please for the love of god tell me you’re not that naïve.”

This piece of shit. If a man ever talked to me like this, I’d slap him into next year. TF.

Who the hell is this guy? This man who clearly thinks I’m an idiot who has no clue how to handle a crisis?

THANK YOU GIRL. GET TF OUT OF THIS TOXIC MAN’S ORBIT

Suddenly I feel so tiny and insignificant. I’ve never felt that way around Max before. Ever.

Girl, really?? How about last time you got talked down to like you were a moron??? Not then???

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I can’t believe the man I love thinks so little of me.

AND AT LAST SHE SEES THE LIIIIGHT

“Of course, you wouldn’t understand how messy family can be. I don’t expect you, someone who’s never been part of a family in his entire life, to know anything about that.”

OH DAMN GET HIM. I don’t even care that this was a low blow. I want this fictional man to SUFFER

“What you said to Max was hurtful, sure. But he said some terrible things to you too. Don’t give him a pass on that and then be so hard on yourself. It’s not fair.”

Best friends always have the best advice.

“His family life and childhood were terrible. Traumatizing. And I used that against him.

As you should, girlfriend. This is the most respect I’ve had for this character the whole book and she’s acting like it was a bad thing.

Maybe ignoring my calls and texts for two weeks wasn’t the smartest thing in the world to do given everything going on with Joelle and the building.

You think??? What a fucking idiot.

I stomp the gas pedal, hitting ten over the speed limit as I weave between slower-moving cars along the interstate.

Is it bad that I hope he gets into a horrific car wreck and is unceremoniously killed off? I’ve never rooted for a male lead to die more in a romcom.

The pieces of my heart slowly meld back together. “Th-that’s when I realized I loved her too.”

Gag me

That’s Max’s car, double-parked right in front of us.

He’s a fucking double-parker too that little bitch.

I promise I’ll never, ever do that again.

I’m sorry, but what exactly did this man learn? He spent the whole book projecting his anger onto her, cutting her down, patronizing her, treating her like an idiot, and acting like an unprofessional monster. He was constantly flipping between Jekyll and Hyde—from sweet boy-next-door with a bad boy aesthetic to a spitting, raging asshole. Then, when it mattered most, he throws another fit and talks to Joelle like she’s a moron and then he proceeds to ghost her for DAYS. And now he comes back, “promising” he’ll never do it again?? Actions speak louder than words. Like wtf does this mean when he’s proven time and time again that he can’t learn from his mistakes and evolve as a person?

The owner is a heck of a guy who will make sure your every whim is catered to.”

Except her mental well being

Having a baby is the single hardest thing I’ve ever done.

IM SORRY—— (this is the MMC’s POV, btw) IT WAS THE HARDEST THING *YOU* EVER DID??? YOU DIDNT DO ANYTHING. SHES THE ONE THAT PUSHED A BOWLING BALL OUT OF HER VAGINA AFTER HARBORING A PARASITE FOR NINE MONTHS WTAF