Wouter van Noort > Recent Status Updates

~ Okay maybe not

~ It kinda gets better? I'm not sure.

~ Well this isn't exactly a good start, almost seems like it's Cornwell's first time writing a book.

I wince. Squeeze my eyes shut. Pry the words from my teeth. "How do you know if you like someone?"
"Oh." Her tone changes instantly. The smile is plain in her voice. "This is one of those conversations. It's been ages since you had a crush on someone."

Before I can put a finger on it, he turns around on his way out and says only, "Congratulations, Sadie. The torture is over." The torture is over. These are the last words Julius speaks to me in over a month.

I've heard of it happening at other parties. I've seen it play out in movies. But I still experience a horrible shock when someone suggests, two hours into the party, that we play a game of truth or dare.

He thinks he has me all figured out. That I'm an open book to him, and he can read me easily, better than anybody else.

"You kids have fun though."
We did not have fun.

It's irrational, because I've seen him almost every day for the past ten years. I should be used to it by now - to him. He's as permanent a fixture as the clock hanging on the walls, the view of the emerald school oval from the windows, the dull circular patterns in the carpet. But something feels different. Slightly askew.

School tomorrow.
The reminder hits me like a mallet to the stomach. I don't know how I'm going to survive it.

The textbook was wrong.
The most beautiful arrangement of words to ever exist. It's like someone's injected sunlight directly into my veins. I'm so relieved, so euphoric.

It's an honor to be waiting outside the school gates in the winter cold. This is what l've been telling myself for the past hour as I shiver in my ironed blazer and watch my fingernails turn a concerning shade of purple. It's an immense honor. A privilege. A joy.

The only sound was the turning of pages.

"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean? I'm reading." she replied, sounding perfectly composed.
"Yeah, but why now?"
"I felt a sudden urge to read." she said without looking up from the book.

My days at the Morisaki Bookshop had come to an end. I wanted to go on living at the shop, but instead I closed the shutter tightly and went back to my home and my normal life.

In that room lit only by moonlight, I revisited those sweet
memories that had lain dormant behind a door within me, and
it was like I was opening up one book after another, turning the pages until I finally fell asleep.

"No... I have, um, plans."
"Plans?"
"I just told you about the bookshops."
"Come on. Nobody goes to bookshops that often."
"People who like them do though. There's nothing wrong
with that," I replied.

There were places I wanted to go and people I wanted to see. And there was a place that was always ready to welcome me back. I can't think of anything more wonderful than that.

This is my beloved Morisaki Bookshop. It's been an inseparable part of my life since the days I lived here. In its own modest way, it's a place that holds so many little stories within its walls. Maybe that's the reason I keep coming back.

The Jimbocho neighborhood is a little unusual for Tokyo
because most of the stores there are bookshops.

"Hi."
"Hi."
"..."
"..."

"It's funny how they thought we were dating," Colin said, glancing over at her. "How's that funny?" she asked, holding his gaze. "Um," he said. Distracted from the road, Colin watched as she gave him the slightest version of her inimitable smile.

"I'm behind on my reading," Colin explained. "Behind on your reading? All you do is read," Lindsey said.