by Dave Connis
“Okay, but what if it is me?”
“Right, well, because it’s you, and you’re bringing your A game, you say, ‘Well, that didn’t really answer my question. Why?’ Prince Walsh will say, ‘It isn’t currently beneficial to your learning environment.’ So there you are, the A-game student hearing ‘currently beneficial,’ thinking the whole situation weird, awkward, and confusing. So you want to get out of the principal’s office. You go, ‘Yeah, sure,’ not realizing you just got censored.”
I opened my mouth to push back, but LiQui held up a hand.
“But say you feel weird and driven enough to go through all of that yet still have the energy to read the student handbook. You read what we just read, and then you come to me. I say, ‘Sorry, I don’t have a list yet. They haven’t given me one.’ Are you going to go back to Principal Walsh and ask for a list?”
“I mean, right now I would.”
“Clara, come on. For real.”
I sighed. “Likely not.”
“Right. There are all these obstacles that ninety-nine percent of this school wouldn’t cross.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s weird, right? It’s like it’s built this way.”
Suddenly, my war against Mr. Walsh felt bigger than it had before.
She held up a white cover. “Well, it can’t stop you from doing this. Right? You’ve gotta do this.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sick of Mr. Walsh getting away with this. I’m going to show him he’s wrong.”
“I’m proud as hell. Look, you know books aren’t my jam, but bringing power to the people is. StuCab’s got resources. You need some extra lockers and unused janitor closets for drop-off places? We got you. I’m doing what I can to find some legal alleys to take this. I’ve reached out to a few peeps at other schools and emailed the American Library Association.”
“Hmm. Well, first of all, I don’t understand how anyone can not like reading, but it’s fine. We can still be friends. Second of all, maybe. I don’t know. It’s not going to get crazy enough for me to have to drop them places, I don’t think. Besides, I want to be there when I give them out. Third of all, do you really think you can find something?”
She shrugged. “I’m gonna try. If this was a public school? We’d be all over this. Private schools are different beasts. Law, girl. Sucks.”
I laughed. “Thanks, LiQui. Seriously.”
She nodded. “Let me know how we can help.”
“Well, I have another question.”
“Go for it.”
“Do you think the administration will notice me? I mean, they’re betting that students don’t read for fun, right? And if we do read for fun, there’s a whole library of ‘acceptable books.’ So, they aren’t looking very hard if they think the ‘unacceptable books’ are gone, which they technically are.”
She shrugged. “Hard to notice a tree when you think you’re in a desert.”
“Right. LA kids aren’t lining up to borrow books when they aren’t banned. So I’m thinking I’ll hustle them to the people who are interested. The year ends; we graduate and get out of here. Boom. I’ve done my part in fighting.”
The way I said it sounded so much calmer than the way I felt.
“It’s so subtle it’ll actually work,” LiQui said.
Then, strangely, one of Lupton football’s two wide receivers—LiQui’s ex, Maverick Belroi—appeared from around the bookshelf, taking my mind off omissions, rejected grievances, and systems of proof. Both LiQui and I stared at him, heads tilted in a Yo, what are you doing here? look.
What was going on? What sort of parallel universe was sending the people I least expected to the places I least expected to see the people I least expected to see?
I had no idea why he was there, but since he spoke a special language—Let Me Insult Your Deepest Insecurities, but If You Get Mad, You’re Insane Because It Was Just a Joke, Bro—I girded myself for some sort of lambasting or insult. LiQui and I both knew this, and her dagger eyes and pressed-together lips were a sign that all her strength was being used to keep the snappy insults at bay.
“’Sup,” the Mav said.
“Hi?” I said.
He leaned closer to me, and I began to panic. What if he was attempting to make LiQui jealous by kissing one of her friends? How fast would I perish in the disaster that would follow?
“I heard you’re who I should see if I want a copy of a book called Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell?”
“Uh . . . yes?”
I had a few more questions for him that went unasked:
Do you know that Eleanor and Park is banned?
Are you a spy? Who sent you?
How do you get your arms to be that big yet still find shirts that fit?
Was this really going to be my first book checkout? A banned romance—granted, a brilliant and masterful one—to a jock that an entire school called “the Mav”?
He shrugged and I didn’t press any further. I wanted him gone and the moment with LiQui back. Plus, with LiQui looming next to me, I figured the quicker I got the transaction over with, the better.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to LiQui. Then I silently nodded to the Mav, and in some of the most awkward minutes of my LA career, he silently followed me to my locker.
When I opened the locker to pull out Eleanor and Park, the Mav went, “Whoa. Those all books?”
I looked at what was obviously a stack of books.
“No, some are TV dinners in case I don’t want what they’re serving in the cafeteria.”
He nodded. “Sweet. Good idea.”
“Yeah, they’re all books. All banned.”
“LA has banned books?”
I nodded, but I said nothing else. I wasn’t lying and I wasn’t betraying Mr. Caywell. It had been announced, and according to the student handbook there was supposedly a list of all the banned books with the student-body president. It was public knowledge.
I matched the book code with the ID on my phone and pulled Eleanor and Park up from the bottom of the stack and handed it to him.
“Bring it back whole. Oh, and if you could write a quote on the cover, that’d be awesome. Something that you liked about the book. A thought or, like, something that changed you.”
The Mav nodded.
I pulled up a personal-library-manager app—yes, they have them—I’d bought for ten dollars on my iPhone. The app let me know which books of mine were borrowed, who had them, what books I hadn’t loaned out, and so on.
“Phone number? Address?” I asked. He gave them to me willingly.
“Okay, cool. It’s due two weeks from now. You’ll get a text in a few seconds with the actual date. Oh, and you’ll get a reminder text the day of. If you need to renew it, respond to the reminder text with the word renew. If you lose it, you pay for it. If you get caught with it, I didn’t give it to you. Okay?”
“So the school banned these?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Weird.”
“Very.”
“So this is, like, a stick-it-to-the-man sort of library? Like, a secret library of banned books?”
I nodded.
“Sick.”
“Two last questions?”
“Sure.”
“Where did you hear about Eleanor and Park? And who told you to come to me?”
“Jeff Goldblum was talking about it on his Instagram feed, so I asked Mr. Caywell for it and he told me to find you.” The Mav slid the book into his backpack. “I’ll bring it back. Peace.”
I watched him walk away, then went back to the library to find LiQui swirling in circles on a stool at the computer bar. She stopped as soon as I came in and looked at me with a face I called her report face. An eyebrow raised, a slight tilt of her head, lips positioned in such a way that you knew you’d get an earful if you didn’t report. But before I could, Mr. Caywell walked up to me with another cart of books. “Here you go,” he said. “O
h, did that kid ask you for that book?”
I grabbed the cart from him and pushed it out of the way of the aisle. “Yeah . . . what’s that about? He told me you told him to ask me for it?”
He nodded. “You’ve got more libraries than I do, and those libraries don’t operate by the same rules.”
“So you’re going to send everyone looking for contraband my way?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He walked away. I realized I’d been given a promise of patrons, and I felt bad that Mr. Caywell thought he was sending them to my Tiny Little Libraries, not a locker library full of banned books. But, out of all the weird feelings I had, that one was one I could live with most.
I walked back over to LiQui with my new cart of books. Her face was still etched with report, peasant.
“First,” I said pushing a book into the Bs, “he said he heard about the book from Jeff Goldblum. Isn’t he that guy in Jurassic Park?”
“Yeah. He’s his grandma’s favorite actor. She thinks he’s hot and made him follow him on Instagram so she can keep up with him. He has a book club, apparently.”
“For real?”
“Yep. You have an extra copy of it?” she asked. “I wanna know why it sounded so appealing.”
“You should read Perks first, but yeah, I’ve got two. I’ll bring one to you.”
“What else did Mav do?”
“Well . . . wait. Before we move on, he likes romance?”
She shrugged, jumped off her stool, grabbed a book off the cart, and scanned the shelf for where it went. “Dude is also super obsessed with snapping turtles. Who knows.”
As LiQui and I put books back, I gave her the rundown of every step I’d taken with the Mav in tow, with a few embellishments like “I swear he was humming the Monday Night Football song as we walked,” and even though Mr. Walsh was winning, it felt like a temporary win. Levi and Joss were proof that you could stop a war with a library.
I felt inspired.
I felt strangely hopeful.
A Fancy Letter for Clara
Founders Foundation
353 Riverside Street
Chattanooga, Tennessee
Clara Evans
8057 Foundry Hill Drive
Chattanooga, Tennessee
Dear Founders Scholarship Finalist,
Congratulations from all of us at the Founders Foundation on making it to the final round of the prestigious Founders Scholarship. As you know, this is a highly competitive program, and we consider any student finalist the next wave of future leaders in America.
Since the foundation’s beginnings in 1931, it has been a tradition to host a dinner for the five Founders Scholarship finalists. At this event, you’ll be able to meet local leaders and ask them any questions you may have about public work, college, careers, and internships. Then, after dinner, each finalist will have ten minutes to speak to dinner attendees about whatever topic they choose as long as it fits within the themes of community, service, or leadership.
You’re invited to this event, which will take place on the fourteenth of September at six thirty. Attire is formal. We encourage you to bring two guests.
To attend, please RSVP by August 25th by responding to this email. Also, please be sure to list any dietary restrictions or allergies.
Sincerely,
Shelli Brown
Chair of the Founders Foundation
A List of Potential Speeches
- Your Letter Makes Me Sound Way Smarter Than I Am
- Don’t Tread on Me: A Community Library
- My Freshman Year as a Library Intern
- The Books That Defined My Years
- Why Be a Leader When You Can Sleep?
- Please Give Me This Scholarship So I Can Go to College
- The Pros and Cons of Private Education
- An Ode to Queso: The Real Community Leader
- LitHouse Stuff?
- Law, Girl. Sucks.
- What’s the Deal with Books at LA?
- Someone Needs to Make LA Administration Calm Down
- Holding LA Admin to a Higher Standard?
- Our Suspicious Beef
- Hey! I’m Running a Banned-Book Library in My Locker!
- Hey! I Think the New Book-Ban Policy at Lupton Academy Is Incredibly Dumb!
- Hey!
- Why Don’t We Just Fix All the World’s Problems?
A List of Potential People I Could Bring as Guests
Absolutely invited:
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
- Lukas Gebhardt
If that doesn’t work out:
- Lukas Gebhardt’s hologram
- Levi and Joss
- Dad and/or Mom
Texts from That Night
Unknown Number #1
Unknown Number [6:11 PM] Hey is this Clara Evans?
Me [6:11 PM] Sure is.
Unknown Number [6:11 PM] This is Resi Alistair. I hear you might have Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson?
Me [6:11 PM] Oh, cool. Yeah, that’s a bannie, so I have it.
Unknown Number [6:11 PM] A bannie? Can I get it from you tomorrow?
Me [6:11 PM] Yes. Quick survey, how’d you hear?
Unknown Number [6:13 PM] LA library copies were gone for some reason, but the Mav told me you had a bunch of books stashed away.
Me [6:13 PM] Ah. Cool. Come by locker 21 before lunch.
Unknown Number [6:13 PM] Okay, thank you.
Hanna Chen
Hanna [6:55 PM] Hello, Clara. This is Hanna Chen. We were on the track team together freshman year?
Me [6:55 PM] Hey, Hanna!
Hanna [6:55 PM] Do you have a copy of Strange Astrophysics by Colt Cax?
Me [6:55 PM] Uhh. I’m not sure? Let me check. Who told you to check with me?
Hanna [6:56 PM] Mr. Caywell. Our library didn’t have it, but he said you might.
Me [6:56 PM] Sure, give me a sec.
Hanna [6:56 PM] Ok. Thanks.
Me [6:56 PM] Yep! Meet me at my locker tomorrow during free period?
Hanna [6:56 PM] Sure. Thanks.
Unknown Number #2
Unknown Number [7:30 PM] Heyyyyy.
Me [7:30 PM] Hi! Who is this?
Unknown Number [7:30 PM] Ashton Bricks.
Me [7:34 PM] Oh, hey.
Unknown Number [7:34 PM] Is my locker working out for you?
Me [7:34 PM] Yeah. It’s peachy. Thanks.
Unknown Number [7:34 PM] What are you doing with it?
Me [7:34 PM] Just a project thing.
Unknown Number [7:34 PM] Cool. Resi tells me you might have a book I need for class?
Me [7:34 PM] The Friendly Occultist’s Guide to Death Potion Making?
Unknown Number [7:34 PM] Ha. Yes, please.
Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson? YA.
Me [7:34 PM] Which teacher is still assigning Speak?
Unknown Number [7:35 PM] Ms. Croft, English Comp II.
Me [7:35 PM] Of course. You have two Ms. Croft classes?
Unknown Number [7:35 PM] Yeah, she’s intense in both, FYI.
Also, Resi and I were talking about how weird it was that the library doesn’t have Speak anymore when I know I saw it on the summer reading list last year.
What’s up with that?
Me [7:35 PM] Tell me about it.
I have one other copy of Speak.
Want it?
Unknown Number [7:35 PM] Yeah. Okay, sweet.
Me [7:35 PM] Well . . . you’ll need to meet me at your locker.
Unknown Number [7:35 PM] Life. Saver. Thanks.
Unknown Number [7:40 PM] Wai
t . . . my locker?
Me [7:40 PM] Don’t worry about it.
Unknown Number [7:40 PM] Do I want to know?
Me [7:40 PM] It’s fine.
Unknown Number [7:40 PM] Right.
LiQui
Me [8:22 PM] Yo.
I just had two separate star-stars in my messages asking me for books from my library.
The Mav did some work.
So far Resi and Ashton are the only ones who even find it weird that we’re missing books.
LiQui [8:22 PM] Things that are worth noticing normally go the most unnoticed.
Cat videos on the other hand? Watch out.
Thoughtful discourse? Nah.
Video of cat accidentally falling behind a couch? LET’S GO.
Me [8:22 PM] Freaking panem et circenses.
Seriously how do humans suck that bad?
LiQui [8:23 PM] Panem et wtf?
Me [8:23 PM] Read Don’t Tread on Me.
LiQui [8:23 PM] That the one you gave me?
Me [8:23 PM] No. It’s different. You need to get reading.
LiQui [8:23 PM] I just posted a new NOT a cat vid. Check it.
Me [8:25 PM] “Call it like it is, crust. Your hair is crust.”
I love it.
LiQui [8:25 PM] Mojo this weekend?
Me [8:25 PM] QUESO QUESO QUESO
A Cryptographic Bookstore
Ashton stood at his locker, watching me pull out the Speak white cover and begin the checkout process.
He looked around me and scanned the books inside. “Do you know something we don’t?”
I looked up. “Why would you think that?”
He motioned to the books. “You’ve turned my locker into a cryptographic bookstore?”
I turned, glanced at the stacks, then shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re delusional.”
“A joke! Wow. The paranoia continues to abate. What a day. Oh, do you mind if I snag a copy of the next book-club book?”