After school is out, Isla wants to pull me into the library, but I have to work.

"I'll borrow a pile of books and come over, tonight."

She gives me no chance to protest and races of in the direction of the library.

Oh well, it can't hurt to try, right?

Behind the cash register, I notice I'm looking more closely at the money than before. There are so many see through parts and shiny pictures it almost seems impossible for me to take the exact same money from a book. And didn't I read somewhere that every piece of paper money has a number? They will notice when there are suddenly two of them, or when there's money that doesn't have a number at all. And what if they can trace it back to me? With fingerprints and such?

My overstrung imagination takes me straight to juvie with orange overalls, or punishment with a prod in the park. I shiver.

Quickly I stuff the notes back into the registers drawer, I'm not gonna risk it. Clothing is one thing, money remains safely inside the books.

---

Isla is waiting for me at the back gate. Her bag is beside her on the ground and I suspect she must have used two cards, because it's bulging.

"There you are, I've waited for ages."

Without saying anything I open the door and she follows me inside, huffing and puffing.

Grinning I hang up my things on the coat rack and yell two minutes later from the kitchen: "Take them upstairs, okay? I'll warm up dinner. Pizza-day."

Because my mother is late today, we talk a lot more than usual and eat slowly.

"Bram talked about studying in Utrecht yesterday, and that we might find a room together a year from now. How bizarre is that? I mean, I think it's great, but that he's the one to bring it up. You hardly believe it. I'm really so happy with him."

Isla's Bram in in six vwo. I think he wants to become some sort of doctor, but I'm not entirely sure any more. He's arranging his university applications, or how ever that works in the Netherlands. I don't have those high aspirations myself. Thanks to the weeks I now work in the boutique, I abandoned the idea of Business Administration. I still can't decide between lab assistant and Marketing Communication, although neither of them seem very appealing. I just don't know what I want. Unlike my best friend, who already mapped out her entire future.

Maybe I need to take one of those internet tests. If that tells me precisely what suits me best, I don't have to contemplate any more.

I should have learned I can read without a problem when others are near, years ago. Then I wouldn't have had to base my choice of subjects on scary visions of someone throwing away the book I was in. Now I'm stuck with a profile I don't actually like. I'm pretty good at it, but I just don't like Nature and Health. Would it be possible to go from havo5 to vwo5 with a completely different profile? Or would I have to begin from scratch? And if I do get to choose a different profile, which one should I pick?

In the middle of Isla's sentence about finding a place to live in Utrecht, I ask: "What profiles are there in vwo?"

"Tss, you're paying attention, are you. Why? Do you want to transfer this year?"

"Perhaps." I shrug, bite off a piece of my next pizza slice and say: while chewing slowly: "I have no idea what I want to do after school and I only chose this profile because it had the least reading in it. But now I think I don't really want to do anything with what you can do with this profile."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"I don't know." A deep sigh blows a tuft of hair away from my forehead and I take another bite.

"Maybe you can go to college in the States?" Isla's tone of voice is as innocent as she can master, but I get where she's going and make a face that makes her burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay, then don't. It's just that you said recently that your English is much improved, so I thought perhaps English literature is a good idea."

Again I shrug. Isla remains silent for a moment and then continues telling me about her dream, to one day open a private clinic with Bram. Some people have all the luck.

When Isla at last looks at the clock, she chokes. "Shoot, I have to go home in half an hour. Mum says I can't stay out late any more during the week, because my grades are slipping. And I really don't want her shortening my time with Bram, so I obediently follow her orders. Are you done? We can go and look at the books."

I open my mouth, but she cuts me off. "I know you can't stroll in paper when I'm in the room, but I have to explain some things."

"Walk in paper", I mumble, while dumping the plates in the sink. I'll wash them later.

Isla runs up the stairs, taking two, three steps at a time. I follow in my usual tempo. I'm tired. Much too tired for haste and speed, after my bad night and long work day.

In my room, Isla already placed all the books around her and pulls the last one from her bag, when I close the door behind me.

"Nine of these are from the library, the other five are mine. I'll make sure they're returned in time, so don't worry about that. This one", she holds up a chicklit I vaguely remember, "you need to try first. I placed sticky notes at the pages you can start, that way you don't have to read the whole story first. That works right?"

Again I get no time to answer as she gives me another book. With every item, I receive instructions and everywhere sticky notes stick out. When she takes a second to breath, I say: "I get why you're grates are slipping."

I get an angry look and Isla holds up the last book. It's a historical novel and something about the cover looks familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. "This one is for my birthday. It's mine, so you can keep it as long as you want. It's a book about jewels and you can pick whatever you want, okay. Everything is fine, as long as it's not a necklace." Her fingers brush over the charm that's on the thin golden link chain around her neck. Two harts with an arrow through it. Not very unique, but she got it from Bram and from that moment on she refuses to wear anything else.

Her eyes shoot to the clock and when I follow her glance, she jumps up. "I have to go. You can manages, right?"

I open my mouth, but Isla already left, with her now empty bag. A minute later the front door shuts with a bang and it's not until then that I start to smooth out the lines my nose and mouth are making.

"Weirdo", I mutter, piling the books. The book I have to read first, I place on top. I also pick up the book about Finn in his wheelchair from the ground. Perhaps one day, I will finish the story, but not any time soon. And from now on I'll read the beginning of the book in the presence of others. Ending up on a tiny ridge on the side of a mountain is something I never want to live through again.

I can't start this evening, because I have homework as well. And even though my grades are still fine – above average even, after my obsessive work ethics of late – I don't want to see them drop.

---

Isla looks at me expectantly the next day, when we're back at school, so I laugh and shake my head. "I haven't started yet, Isla, I have homework too. And I want to check them first with others around. Did you read the one about the boy in the wheelchair before you gave it to me?"

Not understanding the direction I'm headed, she slowly nods.

"The beginning?"

"Yeah."

"And do you know how that started?"

"Ehm, with the accident, right? He was mountain climbing and fell on a ridge?"

"Right, yeah. I give you three guesses where I ended up when I went into the book."

She stares at me dumbfounded for a few seconds and then her eyebrows rise in a frightened expression. "Oh, shoot. Really? Oh no."

"Yeah, that. So from now on I read the books on paper first, thank you very much."

Together we walk to the lockers and we place our coats inside as well as the books we don't need these first classes. Isla's locker is, as always, one chaotic mess. Mine I try to keep a little organized.

"The books I gave you aren't like that. No dramas and such. No mountains, I swear. Just a lot of romance and girl stuff and shopping."

"Hmm." The first bell is about to ring, so I say goodbye.

"Tonight?" she beggingly yells after me and I raise my hand. Who knows.

---

School, work, dinner. The day flies by and at the end I'm completely spent, again. If this taking clothes from books works, I might cut back work a day, since I don't have to buy clothes and shoes any more.

With my mother at the table, I peruse the part at the yellow post it from the book I have to read first, according to Isla. I never started a book in the middle, at least, not before I at least read everything before that. So, just in case, I also read the beginning of the book. Isla is right, the entire book is set in a shopping district. So that'll be fine.

Yawning exorbitantly, I bid my mother goodnight and lock myself in my room. I stuff pillows behind my back on my bed and open the book at the note and wait for the flash.

It works. I end up in the middle of the story. I only have a vague idea about what happened before, but the main character doesn't seem to mind that I'm suddenly there. We're standing – after I scrambled to my feet – in front of a shop and when she walks inside, I follow. Apparently Isla wants her closet to be filled with Gucci, because that seems to be the only brand in the store. With my mouth open wide, I walk passed the racks. Not because I think it's amazing, on the contrary. It's because of what it costs. Five hundred and fifty euro for a T-shirt? My eyes about roll over the floor. I can't possibly take that for her? How is she ever going to explain where she got it from?

I say the exit-words with empty hands, grab my phone and text: Do you have any idea how freaking high those prises are? What will you tell everyone about where you got it from? You just don't get this as a random gift.

The answer doesn't keep me waiting.

Oh, right, I hadn't thought about that. Leave that first book. Take the thin one. She goes to a Calvin Klein shop. You can take underwear for me.

I burst out laughing and text back: as if.

She sends me a crying smiley.

Doesn't anyone go to a regular store? I text.

It takes a few minutes and then she texts me the titles of two books. Really begin at the post its, alright?

Shaking my head, I answer with a thumbs up, find the two books and place them beside me. Back on my seat on the bed, I open the first one. There'll be hell to pay if I end up anywhere scary. Then it's a whole lot of nothing for her.

Luckily it turns out to be an other regular shopping district. I scramble up again and agree to myself next time I go into a book while standing up. Soon however, I find out there's a problem. The character I walk with, doesn't actually go inside the shops. She walks passed everywhere and longingly stares through the windows. She sighs and talks about all the wonderful things inside and how she wants to have it, but can't afford it. The shops are open, because others go in and come out, but when I try, the door is locked. Would that be, because the main character doesn't enter? Or does the book know what I plan to do and locks me out?

I guess it's the first thing, say the exit-words and try the second book. If this book also doesn't work, I give up.

This time however, I find myself inside the store. A completely ordinary one, judging by the price tags. And they actually have pretty decent stuff. I don't pay attention to the main character, but take one thing after another from the clothing racks and say, with my arms full of clothing, the exit-words.

But when I'm back in my room, I realize I only brought one item from the store with me. Only the bottom thing from the pile. The shirt that actually touched my hands in the store. The book is beneath that. With a sigh I place the book and shirt on the bed and then I purse my lips. What should I do? I can change in there and go back, that should work.

Heaving another sigh, I pick up the book, change my mind and undress until I'm in my underwear. Then I dive back into the book. I don't feel the cold, nobody looks at me with a strange expression and ten minutes later I'm standing, fully clothed in a new wardrobe, including a winter coat, back in my room. This is actually kind of fun.

Twice more I go in. First I take about the same set, just a size smaller, which looks rediculous, for Isla and the next time a dress for me. I'll probably never wear it, but it's truly magnificent and it simply begged me to come with me.

I have to keep this book. Oh, it's a library one, then I'll buy it. This really comes in handy.

I wonder if Sorley got his geek T-shirts like this as well and then I squeeze my eyes shut. Stop thinking about him.

It's because of the paper walking. Everything about it reminds me of him. Even books he would never step into. I don't want to admit it, but I miss it terribly to walk with him in strange, wondrous surroundings.

My thumb moves over the screen of my phone and my eyes find the words of his last texts that I've memorized by now. Should I text him? Tell him about my newest hobby? I look at the pile of clothes that are waiting for a spot in my wardrobe. The winter coat is truly wonderful, but it's not cold enough yet to wear it. The knot in my stomach, that conquered a permanent place in there, pulls tighter and I put the phone down again. He's surely not waiting for some lame story about shopping. When I text him, he'll want to talk about what happened and I'm not sure that's such a good idea through texts. What if we say something stupid that we can never take back and I'll lose him forever. I might have already, but for now I can hold on to the illusion that we can fix things one day. Right now I don't see how, but the possibility is there and I don't want to ruin it.

No, for now Isla will have to do, who is far to enthusiastic about my weird gift.

---

Isla is ecstatic when I hand her a large shopper the next day. she immediately begins summing up all the things she supposedly can't live without and I let her ramble.

Despite having decided to behave normal from now on, it's still difficult for me to sit around and keep from moping.

It's Saturday and my free weekend in the rotating duty roster. We're sitting with the whole group in our café and Britt is nagging about some story I missed the beginning off. It occurs to me how much it seems as if nothing has changed. As if I've never been to America, or never even met Sorley. My eyes wander to the corner of the library where I found the blue booklet. Should I wish that the old fashioned linen cover never caught my eye? It's still a mystery how it got here in the first place.

"Zaar? Really, girl, pay attention."

"Hmm?"

"There's someone staring at you and if you don't respond, Britt is going to make a move. Really, I don't get why she still hangs with us, not now she and Emiel broke up. Even though he's not in our school any more and we hardly ever see him. I mean, she must know that, when it gets to it, we're on his side, right? Anyway, he looks hot and the way he looks at you is freaky, so do something, because he's way to good looking for Britt. He looks familiar though. Is he in your year?"

I think my brain registered not even half of her words. My jaws are attempting to smile and my eyebrows frown and I don't think that expression looks very charming. Sighing, I look in the direction she points and then the world stops spinning.