You have nothing better to do at four o’clock in the afternoon other than follow me around like a puppy as I stock books back on the shelves. You’re pushing the big blue metal cart around, so I guess I can’t complain too much. You’re also rambling, which I happen to know is a telltale sign of you being nervous. Or, at the very least, having something on your mind.

I laugh softly at something you say to me as we stop in the science section. I have to crouch to restock two biology books and one about space. If only I could get you to do all the moving around for me.