Novel & Cerita Book Nerd

"From 2019. Have you read it?" "Twice," I said. "The chapter on laminated dough is the best thing written on the subject." He put it back. Pulled out another. We were standing side by side in the food writing aisle of the Court Street bookstore, two people who had been going to this particular store for years doing the Saturday morning thing, and it was unremarkable in all the ways that mattered and entirely remarkable in the ones that didn't. "What have you been reading?" I said. "Novels mostly," he said. "I went through a long period of only reading work-adjacent things and I'm trying to correct it."

I couldn’t help but smile. He squinted his eyes at me. “Ah, you know something that I don’t.” “Know what?” My smile widened. “At least, you share my frustration. It’s a good book, right?” “Yes. One of the great books I’ve read.” “I don’t even know if you read.” He smiled sadly. “One thing only a few people know about me, but yeah, I read.” “What’s your genre?” “Thriller, mystery, nonfiction. But Midnight is a mix of—"

"It helps me think. Or not think, depending on what I need." "What kind of books?" "Everything. History. Philosophy. Fiction. Biographies. I'm not picky." I pull out a worn paperback. Look at the cover. "The Count of Monte Cristo?" "One of my favorites. Read it at least five times." "Really? The mafia boss likes classic literature?" He smiles. "The mafia boss is full of surprises." We settle on the couch. Not too close. But not distant either. The fire crackles softly. "So why couldn't you sleep?" Ocean asks.

He pointed out a tiny bookstore tucked between two cafés, said he used to come there for quiet when his life got too loud. “Let’s stop,” I said, tugging gently at his sleeve. He looked surprised, but followed. The bookstore smelled like paper and nostalgia. There were handwritten recommendation cards tucked into shelves, and a sleepy cat lounging by the register. Dean and I split up for a few minutes him disappearing into the nonfiction section, me wandering through poetry and travel books. When we found each other again, he was holding a book about dogs. “You think Vegas would approve?” he asked. “He’d probably want the deluxe treat cookbook instead.”

"Yeah, I know he does that. He is gonna be the valedictorian next year. What about you? Are you the topper of your grade?" "No, there are at least three or four people in front of me. I'm not really a nerd like you think." "Sure, I saw your room," I chuckle. "You are the perfect example of a bookworm. But I guess you spend more time on extra reading than studies." He leaves a sigh. "Why do you refer to people who enjoy reading as nerds?" "Who told you being nerdy is a bad thing? It's good to be a nerd."

In my case, I read them carefully and dramatically, line by line, including the footnotes and reader's reviews, and I still end up binge-reading more than ten until the evening. I borrow Alex's bicycle and pedal downtown to check out the library stores I have been eyeing on the past days. There are two bookstores I have been seeing so far, and I will be more than glad if they have interesting non-fiction books to offer. I think I am craving of history and social knowledge these days.

he says helping me kick off my shoes and getting me comfortable. “You actually fought someone?” He rubs the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile on his lips, and he sighs. “I blame purberty. And to answer your question, I had so many favorites I cannot count, but I had ones I could reread over and over again.” he tells me, his eyes scouring the rows of books, brows tugging towards themselves in concentration. He looks so good this. A very hot nerd is who is in front of me. His eyes browse the spines of books, fingers expertly, and gently pulling them down, one after the other, with the carefulness and precision of a new mother and her baby.

As I perused the books, I could feel Aidan’s gaze on me. The shop, much like the one downstairs, boasted an impressive selection. These were books to be enjoyed in the coffee lounge, not purchased or taken home. A smile tugged at my lips as I reached the romance novel section. So, Well Thumbed had these too. I wondered if they had hidden gems, perhaps something I hadn’t read or that Uncle Alex’s book club, Bound To Please, hadn’t discovered yet.

I didn't have much strength, but the shock of it made him stumble back into the deepest, darkest corner of the shelf, behind a row of oversized encyclopedias. ​I stepped out into the aisle just as Jax turned the corner. ​"There you are." Jax stopped, his brow furrowing as he looked at my flushed face and tangled hair. "What are you doing back here? It smells like... dust and old paper." ​"I was looking for a reference book for Lit," I lied, my voice sounding an octave too high. I smoothed my skirt, my hands shaking so badly I had to clench them into fists. "I couldn't find it. I was just leaving."

“Okay, you caught me. But it is not creepy watching, I promise. You just look so peaceful when you are arranging books or helping customers. It is calming. And kind of inspiring. I am a literature major, so bookstores are basically my happy place.” He leaned forward a little, eyes sparkling with interest. “Literature major? That is amazing. What are you reading right now?” “‘The Night Circus’ again,” I said, relaxing into the conversation. “I love stories with magic and quiet longing. What about you? As a bookstore guy, you must have favorites.” James smiled warmly. “I do. Right now I am rereading ‘Norwegian Wood’ by Murakami. There is something about the melancholy and the way people connec