It was a Sunday night, and Kassie, Mel, Abraham, and Derek were closing up Buzzy Bees. Kassie could hear Mel and Derek cleaning and prepping for the next day as she restocked the books in their proper place. This was her favorite job. She loved walking among the tall bookcases and finding a home for each new book. She liked leafing through the used books before stocking them, finding love notes and grocery lists, looking to see what people added to the margins, and reading the parts they highlighted. The best part was the middle book display cases. They were waist-high and square. The top had books stacked on it, and the sides were small shelves. Each employee had a display of their recommendations.  

While Abraham and Kassie weren’t messy, they were not nearly as neat and particular as Mel. She categorized the display books first by genre and then by author. Abraham tended to organize these displays by author, whereas Kassie’s square displays lacked organization. Last week, her displays were each a different color; a month before that, they were books published in 2010. This week, she dug through the used books in the back of the store to find all of the hardcovers with missing dust jackets. Most of them had a solid-color cover with no writing. To find out the title or author, the book would need to be opened. 

On the chalkboard sign that each display had, she wrote, “Don’t peek. Be Surprised!” 

When she was done, she took a seat next to Abraham on the worn-out, tweed couch. He was on the store’s laptop, reviewing next week's online orders. She slipped her shoes off, turned sideways, and wiggled her toes under his thigh. He didn’t look away from the screen, and his lips upturned in a small smile. 

She took out her phone and went to the store’s Facebook page. She uploaded a few pictures she took today. One of Mel and Meg was baking. Mel’s blond and purple hair was up in a neat bun, and she was smiling brightly over some cupcakes. Meg was next to her, scowling, looking fierce with her lips painted dark red and her black hair in a sharp bob. She made sure to tag both of them. Meg would hate it. 

Another photo was of the bakery full of people. One of Abraham's stocks is some books, another of her displays. Her favorite one was of her, Abraham, and Mel. Mel’s eyes were closed, with a big goofy smile on her face, flashing her teeth. Abraham looked amused, the lighting complimenting the olive tone of his skin. Kassie didn’t look as good as the others. Looking at the picture, she felt like an outsider. Like some unfortunate, disfigured creature masquerading around as a functioning adult.   

She was smiling, a real one, which to her made her lips look thin and her eyes look crinkled. She agonized over every flaw. The slight crinkles around her eyes, her freckles, the position of her teeth. Every time she caught her reflection or saw her photo, she located everything that was wrong with her. At these times, her inner voice sounded startlingly like her mother.  She tagged and posted it before she talked herself out of it. 

She scrolled through Facebook for a few minutes before she was interrupted by a message. 

Aaron Adams: How was your day?

Aaron Adams:  You look beautiful in the picture you posted. 

As usual, his messages made her smile and blush. And just for a second, the storm that constantly clouded her self-worth eased, and she felt the smallest amount of contentment and pride.  Over the last several weeks, they both became more open with affection. It didn’t make it easier to hear. Her first instinct was always to reject the compliment. 

Kassie Harris: It was good. The newbies are working more and sucking less. And not next to Mel, I don’t. 

Aaron Adams: I’m glad their increasing competency is lessening your workload. I wasn’t aware Melody was in the picture. My eyes never strayed off you. 

She snorted. Seriously, the things he said. A strange and endearing mixture of emotionally constipated and romantic, and she totally ate it up. Abraham smirked knowingly, his eyes still on the computer. She non-so-gently nudged him with her toes. 

Kassie Harris: I’m sure. Eyes usually go for the pretty blonde first. 

Aaron Adams: Kassandra, I’ve said it before, and I’ll repeat it. Do not doubt my affection for you. They are as genuine as they are steadfast. 

Her eyes prickled a little at that. She cursed herself for being a crier. This was a touchy subject with her. Having a beautiful best friend had its downfalls. She was never the pretty one. No one looked at her first, and sometimes, not at all. Consciously and subconsciously, she was continually comparing herself to Mel and, most of the time, falling short. Mel had always been her standard of beauty, in which all else was judged. Even herself.   Her first, and only, boyfriend admitted that he originally dated her to get to Mel. 

Kassie Harris: It’s one of those things, you know? Like, Mel is all pretty and fit, and I’m always her chubby friend that no one’s interested in. Sorry. 

Aaron Adams: Don’t apologize for something you are struggling with. It is not something to be ashamed of, but let me reassure you. Objectively, Melody is a pretty girl. The thought has never gone beyond that because you are enchanting. When I saw that picture, I thought how beautiful you are when you smile. How your eyes shine, how they are the prettiest green. I’ve never thought of freckles as attractive till now. You do not need to enhance your natural beauty with makeup or styled hair to make you the star of that picture. I have never thought of you as chubby, and I have never been uninterested. 

She didn’t even bother to pretend her eyes weren’t wet. Her smile stayed on her face all day.