I sit behind the counter, flicking through the latest book my boss has found and decided to sell. He doesn’t let me use my phone, and I hate the feeling of staring at people until they buy something.

So, I flick.

With the turn of the next page, a young man walks by. His curls bounce with every step and cover his eyes as he looks down at what’s below the counter.

It’s see through, so sometimes it ...