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Little me was in desperate need for love and affection, she was praying Kennedy and Robert would be a mommy and daddy. Finally came the cake, it was a chocolate cake, what little would say no to a chocolate cake, I had a generous slice that I devoured happily. Next was opening of presents for Robert he had some good ones and others he just closed back the box and gave his friends the third finger making me giggle. I stayed silent watching him open all his gifts giving thanks to each one for the none offending ones, lastly was Kennedy’s gift, it was the book she got from my job. He must he a bookworm like me. My little side wanted him to read me bed time stories.

“Anything really. I like thrillers, horror, fantasy… and my favorite book… well, that depends, I guess.” “On what?” “What genre we’re talking about? In fantasy, I have to go with the classic Lord of the Rings. Neil Gaiman is another favorite, and of course, in horror, you can’t go wrong with Stephen King.” “Wow, impressive,” I replied, and Shaun looked almost bashful. “Yeah, my mom got me into a lot of that. She’s a big reader too.” We talked a little more about books before leaving the small restaurant. “Now, let’s see if we can fix our broken book,” Shaun said as he held my hand to the car.

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What’s your favorite title word so far? Mine is Unfettering(Chapter one) Tell me yours.

I fake pouted and changed the topic before Baron could ask me anything else. “Oh yeah, we got you food. Your favorite Chinese takeout from that place you love.” Mari said excitedly and pointed to the bags she’d stacked up on the counter. “I’ll heat it up in the microwave.” Baron sat down on next to me and looking me over, he smiled, “Let me tell you one thing though, you look very funny in the oversize clothes.” I looked down, oh yeah, Damien’s clothes. I laughed, “Yeah well, beggars can’t be choosers.”

As a matter of fact, the more I got to know him, the more I seemed to realize just how different he was compared to Kevin. “I don’t think it’s boring at all. I love reading and watching movies too, if I ever get the time. What are your favorites?” I asked him, seeing how his eyes lit up, excited to share one of his passions. “Well, I am a guy, so my favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird, and my favorite movie would have to be The Godfather. What about you?” He asked me, leaning his shoulder against the food truck as his eyes never left me. Even though it looked as if his eyes kept looking down on my lips, but that might have been a fantasy of mine, who was to tell? So instead of leaning in

“Suboptimal for intimate conversation. We will take future meals in the morning room or the annex. The data supports it.” Keila, emboldened by the strange new setting, looked at him. “Mr. Luther, what was your favorite room when you were little?” He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. The question, from his past, in this formal room, seemed to disorient him. “The… the library. It was predictable. The books were in a fixed order. The silence was complete.” “Did you have a favorite book?” “The Way Things Work. By David Macaulay. It presented complex mechanical systems as logical, visual narratives.” He offered a rare, unprompted piece of personal data. “I found it… reassuring.”

I only had to stop our conversation twice when customers came in, but other than that, it was a really light day as Owen had predicted earlier. "Argh! I hate this book," Zac said breaking our comfortable silence. I looked over to where he was with a box and he held a book up in the air. 'Pride and Prejudice'. "It's not a favourite of mine," he continues when I glare at him. "Okay then, what is your favourite?" "Maybe," he blows out of his mouth. "Anything written by John Green" "Why is that?" I asked, genuinely fascinated in his choice.

He asks with something in his voice I can't quite identify. "You don't know." I say with a slight chuckle in my voice. "Just pick one." I watch idle as he sifts through all the books until he picks one. House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J Maas. "That is one of my favourite books. Although I might just be biased because I love her writing." I lean back in the chair with a satisfied look on my face. "What makes you love someone's writing?" He sits back in his chair and looks at me curiously.

He asked me why I picked on Vee so much. I didn’t have an answer back then. But if I had to go back, I’d tell him the truth: Because she made me feel. And I wasn’t ready to feel anything—not for her. Not for anyone. By middle school, it got worse. She got prettier. Not like the other girls who wore lip gloss and tried too hard. Vee didn’t know she was beautiful. That made it harder. Every time I saw her reading alone or drawing in her sketchbook during lunch, it made me want to ruin her peace just so she’d look at me.