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Authors: Isabel Bandeira

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BOOK: Bookishly Ever After
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“Right.” Dev reached over tentatively and squeezed my hand.
Like a friend would
, I reminded myself.
Alec would do the same.
“Have a Merry Christmas, Phoebe,” he said softly.

It was as if someone had made me swallow a porcupine, but I forced my smile to grow wider. “And I hope you have a safe trip and a great Santa Claus day.”

A click of impossibly high platform heels announced Lexie’s arrival. She was perfect, from her thick, long blownout hair to the tiny rhinestones on her nails. “Dev, c’mon. Matt’s waiting.” She said, tugging on his arm.

Dev nodded at her, then gave my hand one last squeeze. “I’m sorry you can’t make it.”

I shrugged. My face hurt from this fake smile and I just wanted them to go away already. “Happens.” I backed up a step. “Sorry.”

Without letting go of his arm, Lexie managed a onehanded check of her cellphone. “We’re going to lose our ride.” She then gave me a smile that made my insides twist a little bit more. “That little flute solo thing you did was really cute. Too bad you can’t come.” When I didn’t say anything, she slipped her phone back in her purse and wrapped her other hand around Dev’s arm. “Oh well, I’ll see you on Monday. Bye.” With that, she pulled Dev towards the front doors and he turned slightly to give me a little wave before disappearing into the night.

I bolted for the Language Arts hallway and slid down the wall, burying my face in my skirt. It was such a relief not to have to pretend anymore. I tried to take deep breaths to loosen up the tight feeling in my lungs. This wasn’t a fairy tale and it wasn’t a book. Dev wasn’t going to run after me with a glass slipper or dive in front of me to protect me
from evil fae. Why had I been so stupid and naïve to think otherwise?

Another deep breath. I needed to find a ride. Focus now, fall apart later. I pulled out my phone and sent a mass text to everyone I knew was going to be in the audience tonight. Someone was bound to still be here.

As I waited for my phone to buzz, a pair of glittery heels that looked a little bit like Dorothy’s shoes from the
Wizard of Oz
stopped in front of me.

“I thought I saw you duck back here.” I looked up to see Grace waving her phone. “We got your text.”

Leia kneeled next to me, not even caring about the dirt that got on her long skirt. “What happened? Grace said you were supposed to be going to Marrano’s tonight.” Her voice was soft with no trace of her usual, condescending kindergarten-teacher-like tone.

I blinked at both of them, their expressions mirror images of concern. I wasn’t going to say anything… and then it all came spilling out.

I never really liked Leia before, but the gentle way she rubbed my back and just listened without any of her usual “oh, aren’t you the most adorably naïve five year old” commentary made me think of her differently. I finished my story and she and Grace shared a long look, like they were communicating telepathically. Leia nodded. “What you need right now is a good cup of freakishly expensive coffee.”

Grace tugged me to standing and swung my flute case onto her shoulder. “And I know the perfect place.”

26

“I don’t know why bookstores need to be open until eleven o’clock at night, but as long as they have coffee and free Wi-Fi, I’m not complaining.” Leia announced as she placed a tray on our tiny café table. She slid a ceramic mug of something topped with a giant mound of whipped cream at me. “One full-fat gingerbread latte with extra gingerbread and extra whipped cream for you. I talked them into throwing in a cookie.”

I picked up the little gingerbread man on the side of my coffee cup and balanced him, head-down, in the whipped cream. “Thanks.”

Grace swirled a chocolate spoon in her nonfat soy latte. “The concert was nice. Your solo was really high-pitched and squeaky.”

When I twisted the gingerbread man free, his head had absorbed some of the whipped cream, becoming soggy and decapitating him. That plus her comment made me crack a smile. “You make it sound like I was playing a mouse, but thanks.”

“Dev’s an idiot if he picked that girl over you. And a jerk for leading you on.” Leia said bluntly, bypassing all the
pleasantaries. “I don’t really know them, but, at least from an outsider’s opinion, you’re better than both of them.”

“Thanks, but Dev didn’t really lead me on. Not really.” Leia made a dismissive sound and the need to defend him surged up in me. “Em’s matchmaking radar was probably off. You know how she’s always harping on me to date. Dev would never go for someone like me.”

“Excuse me?” Leia put down her mug with a clang and leaned forward. Grace, meanwhile, sat back and watched us like we were a tennis game, or like she was an anthropologist in the wild. “Someone like you?”

“Come on. I’m a geek. I’m on first-name basis with every librarian in the county, but I don’t even know who sings the song that’s playing right now.” I pointed to the speaker above my head, blasting some pop-rock-whatever song. “Dev is so much hotter than me—”

Grace almost choked on her coffee. “If you say so.” She muttered something about shoes and hair and marching band that I didn’t catch before shaking her head and waving. “Go on.”

I took a sip of my latte before continuing. It was hard to be miserable while drinking something that could potentially give me a whipped cream moustache or nose. “And Lexie is gorgeous, put-together, smart, nothing like me. Of course he’d like her.”

“I think you’re wrong. And blind.” Leia said, sitting back again. “There’s nothing wrong with being who you are, which is pretty kick-ass, too. But, you probably aren’t
going to listen to either of us because I’m sure it’s easier to feel dramatically depressed right now.”

I didn’t bother arguing with her. “You know what sucks the most about all of this?” I waved my headless gingerbread man in the air to make a point. “I could have left things alone and been okay, but no, instead I texted him and tried to flirt with him and wore makeup and dressed like Marissa and I made him
socks
. Who
does
that? No wonder he’d rather date Lexie.” My voice wobbled on the last sentence and I took a deep breath, blinking back tears that were threatening to come out. “It sucks. It majorly sucks. And I made such an idiot of myself trying to impress him.”

Leia pat my back lightly. “You kind of did look stupid the last time I saw the two of you flirting over there.” She gestured with her chin towards the new releases. “But he looked stupid too, if I’m remembering right.”

I let off a shaky laugh. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It should. Being mutually stupid cuts any feeling that you made an idiot of yourself in half. Besides, when you graduate in about a year and a half, you’ll probably never see him again, anyway, so why should you care what he thinks?” Leia said, handing me a tissue. Her voice had somehow morphed to gentle and comforting instead of grating. “Perspective. Don’t ever regret trying.”

My fingers went to work twisting and picking at the edge of the tissue rather than wiping my nose and eyes with it. “The scariest part about trying is what I could lose
from it all.”

“Your pride?” Grace asked.

I hadn’t thought of that. “Okay, my pride, too.” Instead of looking at them, I focused on the tissue. “Before all of this, my life was perfect. I had my book boyfriends and it was enough for me to read and dream about these guys because they weren’t real. I’m so scared I can’t go back to that. I’m afraid that maybe reality ruined me for fiction. And that means I really did lose everything.” My chest constricted, forcing me to choke out the last sentence. The thought of losing Aedan or Cyril or any of my other book crushes physically
hurt
.

Leia scooted her chair next to mine and gave me a onearmed hug. “No, you didn’t. I doubt you’ll get over books that fast. Besides, I know you won’t believe me now, but the real world can be awesome, too. Until then, you know you have us, right?” She gave my arm another squeeze and stood. “I’m going to get more napkins.”

When Leia was far enough from the table, I turned to Grace, who still watched me with that psychologist expression. And then I said something I never thought I’d say about Leia. “Your girlfriend is pretty awesome.”

She went from serious to grinning in a nanosecond. “I know.”

I used my headless gingerbread man like a spoon, flattening some of the whipped cream in my mug. “Is it weird to say I’m jealous?”

Grace let off a little laugh and looked over her shoulder
at the brunette. “It’s only weird if you’re threatening to steal her.”

I grinned back at her, in spite of myself. “Yeah, no. Still like boys.”

Leia got back to our table, dropping a pile of napkins in the center. “Feeling better?”

“You two make being melodramatic like a Regency heroine kind-of impossible.”

“Well, this isn’t one of your books. I’m not a fan of the whole ‘spend the next few months crying into a pillow while listening to depressing music’ thing. Please don’t tell me you’re planning on doing that, because if you are, I’ll have to change lunch tables.”

Nudging her with a teasing expression, Leia said, “We’re supposed to be supportive, Grace.”

“You don’t go to our school. You don’t get a vote.” But Grace’s voice was light and she winked at me. “Fair enough, you get a pass on a few days of moping. But if you start acting like Alec did when Katie broke up with him, I’ll personally escort you to the outcast table.”

That made me smile again. “If I start writing really bad poetry and reciting it every time Dev’s in earshot, you have my permission to send me to Coventry.” At their shared look of confusion, I added, “You know, exile me? Regency?” Leia had an excuse because it was impossible to know what they taught in her snobby private school, but Grace really should have gotten the reference. “We learned that in English class last year during the Jane Austen module? You two seriously
need to read more.”

Leia dropped her chin in her hand and winked at Grace. “Sounds to me like she’s feeling better already.”

Grace studied me for a second and nodded. “Totally agree. She’s saying English nerd stuff already.”

“I think I liked her when she was a little bit depressed and not so much of a know-it-all,” Leia said in a bored tone.

I feigned offense. “Hey! Thanks to that comment, I’m taking back what I said about you being awesome.”

“Aww, you actually liked me?” Leia twiddled her fingers in an evil-professor fashion. “My world domination plan is slowly taking effect.”

I laughed, then sobered up, leaning back to get them both in my line of sight. “Thank you for making me forget the whole miserable feeling of rejection thing for a little while.”

Grace reached over and squished me in a one-armed hug. “I’m glad we could help. Plus, I put a lot of hard work into making you look presentable and I don’t want you to use this as a reason to slip back into your old ways.” She tilted her head and grinned at me. “You’re coming to my New Year’s party, right?”

“Of course. Why?”

“So’s Dev. We’re going to make you so gorgeous, he’ll see you at the party and regret not picking you. And then you can ring in the New Year looking like you stepped out of
Vogue
.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“Trust me, it’ll be fun. Being a little bit evil always is.”

Sunday.

All I wanted to do all day was go through my notebook and figure out what could have gone wrong. Or fall into a pile of books and only come up for air when I’d forgotten the last few weeks. But every book I picked up was as substantial as onion skin, without that magical spark that usually dragged me into a story until I forgot everything. And reading about feeling like my heart was put through the blender definitely paled in comparison to the real thing.

I slipped the record out of its sleeve and carefully positioned side two on the vintage record player Trixie had bought in Philly during her senior year. Bouncy 70’s guitar filled the room and I dropped onto my bed. Mom had stolen this
Partridge Family
album from Grandmom’s house and I had stolen it from the rec room record player.

David Cassidy started into a cheesy voiceover monologue about wanting to be wanted and being lonely and a wave of nausea rolled over me. If I was honest with myself, my pride hurt as much as, or more than, my heart. None of this would have happened if Em hadn’t told me about Dev. I could happily still have kept dreaming about Kris. From afar.

It was embarrassing enough I’d let myself get carried away like I did. Dev was probably laughing over the whole thing right now while cuddling with Lexie before his flight. A suffocated, overwhelming feeling rushed over me at the thought, but I forced in a deep breath and pulled myself
together. I could be cold and heartless, like Marissa after Cyril disappeared. Or at least, I could work on not feeling anything.

I swiped the back of my sleeve across my face and coughed from my clenched throat. I needed to
do
something. Something that would channel these feelings out so I could keep going on. I stood and changed into one of the tight-fitting workout shirts and a slim fleece Trixie had bought for me to use in the winter when I’d complained about how it was hard to practice outside in a jacket.

Shooting things always made me feel better.

The Hidden House series book 1: Hidden PG 240

My sweater slips off my shoulder and I don’t bother to push it up. In fact, I’m glad I’m wearing it today. It’s bright red and bold and as non-Victorian as I can get. I pull myself up and stare at the back of the bathroom door, gathering the courage to go out there and confront Cyril.

He doesn’t want to fight for us, and if he really does still love Virginia—even though she’s been dead for over a hundred years—
then I have to stop caring about him, too
. I need to be strong and draw this line in the sand between us.

Especially since it’s like someone asks me to tear my own heart out of my chest every time I see him.

“Screw this,” I say to my bath towel and combs before opening my bathroom door.

Just as I cross into my room, though, the dried tussie-mussie catches my eye. I turn on my heel to grab the little Victorian-style bouquet, head back into the bathroom, slide up my window and screen, and throw it as hard as I can into the night. A little bowl of potpourri that mom had put in my bathroom follows, and then the dried rose I saved from the dance.

Throwing things feels amazing
9
.

BOOK: Bookishly Ever After
6.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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