"Hey, Lyra. There's some returns that need shelving."

Bea magically hoisted a two foot tower of books onto the counter. I moved a damp strand of chestnut hair out of my eyes. This summer seemed particular humid. Even though the door was open, not even a whisper of a breeze managed to get inside this modest sized bookstore.

Twinkle lights lined where the pastel colored walls met the ceiling. The bookshelves were different shades of brown: mahogany, walnut, pine. The smell of old papers and new ink mingled in the air. The chairs and couches were in various shades of blue and were slightly frayed from wear, but they were the most comfortable pieces. Even I struggled to get out of them when I took my breaks just because they were so nap-worthy. They almost absorbed all 5'5'' of me.

The summer light gave the store a golden glow and the bits of dust looked beautiful as it drifted down to the floor. I quickly grabbed the small cart from the backroom and started loading the books onto it. Then, I carefully maneuvered around the sun-kissed tourists holding fruity smoothies and iced coffees.

After almost a year of working at Book It, I knew the store a little too intimately. I even knew the popular places where people shoved their chewing gum in the cracks of the book shelves. I somehow managed to shelf the books and go through the closing checklist within the last hour.

Biking away from the sunset and the beach, I relished the cool breeze. Now that tourist season is here, I've been busy trying to keep up with the demand for pamphlets and books about the city and its attractions. When my cellphone buzzed in my pocket, I immediately knew who was texting me.