Chapter Text
I stand behind the register, fighting the urge to slouch against the counter to alleviate the pain in my feet from standing up all day. I ought to spend the time sorting the bestseller shelf or do -something- productive, but I am beyond tired and past caring. Then the bell rings - the first time in thirty minutes - and in walks a very tall boy, clutching his blue backpack over one shoulder. He looks up at me, through his huge, rounded, 70s style glasses. He looks silly and beautiful at the same time. I have seen him before, but where?
"Hi," I exclaim brightly, awaiting his reaction before I proceed with my how-can-I-help-you spiel.
He looks at me for a good moment, as if he's surprised by my presence and subsequently forgot what he's doing in the bookstore. His feet are planted firmly on the ground, legs apart, hips square; his body seems to grow from the floor all the way to the tufts of his blonde hair nearly two meters above, like a tree: Impossible to knock over. His eyes are human though. Endlessly kind. Blue as the sky.
"How may I help you?" I try to give him my best retail-smile, but the form my face takes is probably a tad too honest and intrigued.
"Um... I'm looking for a birthday present for my brother.”
"Okay." I instantly remember how I know him: He is the brother of Laurits, the gender bending rebel who was one year behind me in school. Even after he moved to the city, people still talk about him and that time he held a speech dressed up as the conservative, -female- school director, in full bunad dress. Badass. His brother though is not so controversial.
"And I really don't know what to get them."
Laurits' brother was quiet. Unpopular. Heartbreakingly tender. What was his name?
"Do you know what he likes to read? What are his interests?" Something old fashioned. Like Valdemar. Mar...tin. Malte?
"They've been obsessed with Loke from nordic mythology lately. Says they're gonna change their name. But I'm not sure if he's being serious..." They? He throws me an awkward smile, that kind of turns my insides all mushy and warm.
Magne! It's Magne!
"Loke would be such a cool name, though. We do actually have this series about the nordic gods, but set in modern day. It's witty, bloody, chaotic..." As I'm babbling about the book, I gesture for him to follow me to the fiction shelves, concious of the feeling of his gaze on my back. "It's kind of like American Gods, if you know that one? But with more violence. But in a funny way." I pick out the first volume, a heavy hardback with a beautiful navy and gold cover.
"No, I don't know that one, but it does sound like something my brother would like." He concedes and accepts the book from me, taking with it what I thought I knew about my taste in men, as I look up into those kind eyes. I thought I liked tall, dark and handsome. At least that's what I've always found. Not blonde, square and awkward. He turns the book over in his hands, one square finger rising to push his glasses up, and then he settles his eyes back to me. "Have we met before? You look familiar."
"I went to secondary a year above you."
"Oh, that's right! You worked in the library - now I remember. Frida?"
"Yes. Magne."
He looks a bit taken aback that I know his name, but he quickly refocuses his attention to the book between his hands. I watch him stroking a thumb over the back of the book, perhaps noticing the difference in texture between the soft matte background and the glossy embossed lettering. I wait for him to come to a conclusion about the book, but he seems lost in thought.
"Do you want me to show you other options?”
He looks up. "No, no this is perfect." He hands me back the book, and when I turn to walk back to the register, he follows behind me.
"Is your brother coming home to Edda for their birthday, then?" I ask carefully while beginning to wrap the book in gift paper.
"No, my mom and I are visiting them in Oslo. I can't believe how 'adult' they are now."
"I know the feeling... My brother's having a baby, and he's only three years older than me. AND he moved away to Lillestrøm, making the whole thing feel unreal because we can't see each that often anymore, and I can't like..." I struggle to find the right words.
"Follow his every step up close, like when you all lived in Edda?" He suggests with a melancholy smile.
"Exactly," I sigh. "It's kind of sad, but I guess that's 'adulting'."
"Yeah..." He trails off. "I'm not sure it agrees with me."
I snort and he smiles, and I realise I forgot to ask him if he even wanted the book gift wrapped. "It'll be two fifty."
"What?" He asks dumbly.
"The book is 250 kroner."
"Oh, right." He fishes out his card and pays, before stuffing the wrapped present into his backpack. It looks like a school backpack. It's kind of endearing.
"I'll see you around, I guess-"
"Have a nice day."
He doesn't, however, come back to the store. I tell myself it's all the same. I'm just feeling lonely, that's why I constantly try to connect with people I don't even know. People I don't actually care about. And I'm just horny, I'm not really attracted to him. He just looked incredibly kind. Just made me feel good for a moment. That's all it was.