by Katy Cannon
“DrewSFF,” he replied, and as soon as the system logged me in, I searched for it.
As far as I could tell, Drew had read and commented on, or offered to critique, dozens of stories but never actually submitted any himself. Typical.
Mind you, I would probably end up doing the same, if I contributed at all. I couldn’t exactly post any of Gran’s book online; her publishers would be furious.
I clicked back to the Stories page, and scrolled through the information about crit partners without reading it again. Underneath, there were links to the ten most popular stories. The top one, I noticed, already had three chapters and hundreds of hits, plus quite a few comments. I glanced up at Drew but he was still engrossed in his own screen, and Rachel was still in the office. I’d done as much work as I could on my own story and I had a free period after lunch. I could get started on my homework … but perhaps reading someone else’s story would be good inspiration.
At least, that was my excuse and I was sticking to it.
The first story was by someone called Morgan Black, and titled Looking Glass. I smiled at the obvious Alice reference, thinking of Book Club. But then I started reading and I became too engrossed to think about anything else but the story.
This was good. This wasn’t just a distraction, an amateur story on the net that was a nice procrastination choice. This was something I wanted to read more of.
As I read, I automatically reached for my notebook, and started making the same sort of notes I did when I read Gran’s first drafts – scribbling down observations about characters, noting lost threads and confusing paragraphs, highlighting sections where I wanted to know more about what the character was feeling, rather than just what they did next. All the things I was used to pointing out to Gran, when she’d written a book too fast to see them for herself.
Except this story was nothing like Gran’s. There was no obvious romance (although I had high hopes for the two best friend characters in later chapters), and little sense of reality, either. Everything took place in a mirror world, one like ours in some ways – and terrifyingly not in others. By the time I reached the end of the three chapters, I was hooked. I needed to know what happened next.
I signed up for update notifications immediately. Then I looked down at my notes. I wanted to sign up to do crits too, but I knew I really needed to keep working on my own story for now. Could I make time for both?
Before I could decide, Rachel burst through the door from the office into the library with a giant, beaming smile splitting her face.
“Oh good! You’re both still here.” She planted her hands on the library counter and leaned across it to grin at us some more. It was starting to get a little creepy. “Guess what Wonder-Librarian has achieved today?”
“Wonder-Librarian?” Drew asked, eyebrows raised.
“Everyone needs a superhero name,” Rachel countered. “And you’re not guessing.”
Excitement started to bubble up inside me. This could only be one thing – the Juanita Cabrera event Rachel had been trying to arrange for weeks. But she was so obviously desperate to tell us, I couldn’t help but make a few other suggestions first.
“Um, got a donation of lots more books?” I guessed, keeping my eyes wide and innocent. Drew snorted.
“Better…” Rachel said.
“Bought a decent coffee machine for the office?” Drew suggested.
“Better. And you’re not supposed to be back there drinking my coffee, anyway,” she added, but the smile on her face suggested she didn’t really care all that much. At least not today.
“I give up,” I said, shutting my laptop. “Come on, Wonder-Librarian. Tell us.”
Rachel sucked in a deep breath and left a dramatic pause before starting. “I have, against all the odds, secured the award-winning author, cultural icon and all-round fabulous human being, Juanita Cabrera, to come and do an event here at the school, as part of the extended Westerbury Fringe!”
Drew and I both cheered.
“That’s fantastic news!” I said. “I can’t believe you pulled it off.”
“Neither can I, to be honest,” Rachel admitted. “It was such a long shot. But apparently she prefers to do smaller, intimate events, rather than big ones, so that worked in our favour.”
“When’s it happening?” Drew asked. “Before the festival officially starts?”
Rachel nodded. “She’s only here for a fortnight, so we’ve got her on her last night – the day before we break up for Easter, actually.”
“So, in about four weeks?”
“Yep.” Rachel rubbed her hands together. “And we have a lot of work to do before then, guys. Ticket sales, posters and flyers, setting up the library, catering … we’re going to need to make a list.” She wandered back towards the office, presumably in search of her notebook.
I glanced across at Drew. “Aren’t you glad you became an official student librarian now?”
“Thrilled,” he said drily.
But I could see the same excitement in his eyes as I was feeling. Juanita Cabrera was coming to St Stephen’s and I had a study date with Zach tomorrow.
Everything was turning out perfectly.
Rosa yawned. “Tell me more about love.”
“Love?” Daniel tried to remember how it had felt, to love and be loved. “Love is like … like coming home.”
“Like the end of a really good book?” Rosa asked. “The Happy Ever After?”
Daniel kissed his daughter’s forehead, his heart aching. “Exactly like that.”
Then he looked up at the doorway. And there was Amy.
The Years Between (Book 9, Aurora series) (2010), Beatrix Frost
Anja showed up to help me prepare for my date a full three hours before I’d arranged to meet Zach at the Hot Cup – the coffee shop most of us from St Stephen’s tended to hang out at after school or on weekends. He’d sent a message the night before, telling me to be there at two thirty, with my English stuff.
“You want to look like you’ve made an effort,” Anja said, pawing through my wardrobe. “To show him that this is a big deal for you.”
“But I don’t want him to know it’s a big deal,” I pointed out. “As far as he’s concerned, he’s still trying to win me over.” Keeping up that illusion was going to be hard enough as it was. If I hinted at how much I really liked him by wearing the dress and heels Anja held out to me, the whole thing would be blown.
I shook my head and Anja sighed, returning the bright red dress to the hanging rail as she looked for something else.
I, meanwhile, sought advice and mental preparation from my most reliable source: a book. In this case, The Years Between, the ninth Aurora book, which tells the story of the romance between Daniel (Rosa’s father) and Amy, a vet and a horse trainer torn apart by past betrayals, family differences and gambling, until they learn to trust each other. Admittedly, it didn’t have much in common with my current situation but there was a great first date scene I’d re-read last night for inspiration. Now, I was just caught up in the story all over again.
Flipping through the pages, I paused at one of my favourite scenes – right at the end, where Daniel is completely disillusioned by love, but still lies to Rosa so she can have hope – only to look up and see Amy in the doorway, ready at last to find a Happy Ever After with the man she loves.
I sighed happily as I read it and Anja turned to look at me. “Are you helping or reading?”
“Can’t I do both?” I asked, but put aside my book at Anja’s glare. “OK, OK. I’m helping. But I’m not wearing anything too dressy.”
As I walked into town a couple of hours later – wearing my more casual denim skirt, ankle boots and new loose-knit green sweater – I tried not to let my hopes get too high. Yes, this was a date with the best-looking guy I’d ever seen in real life, but it wasn’t a real one. It was a study date. And even though Zach had promised the ‘most romantic study date ever’, those words did not conjure up an image of the coffe
e shop where I spent half my non-school hours already, drinking iced coffees. If I didn’t harbour too many expectations, I couldn’t be let down if Zach’s idea of romance wouldn’t exactly fit into one of Gran’s books. I could always use my imagination to improve the set-up when I came to write it down. All that really mattered was the emotion, the excitement. And I had plenty of that.
Still, as I approached the window of the Hot Cup, my hopes started to rise again.
My favourite table, the one right in the bay window so you could see out over the town square, had a large reserved sign on it – as well as a candelabra with three white candles lit. OK, for a study date, that was pretty romantic.
“Miss Matilda Frost?” At the door, a guy in a tuxedo spoke my name. It took me a moment to realize that it was Barney Sommers, from the school rugby team. “If you’d like to follow me, I believe your table is ready for you.”
“Great,” I said, trying not to laugh. Zach had to have put in some serious effort to get Barney into a tux on a Saturday.
Barney led me past all the other – very confused – customers, to the table in the window. Then he pulled out my chair, pushing it in with me as I sat, and shook out the white napkin that had been folded into the shape of a swan and placed it on my lap.
“Where did you learn to do this?” I asked.
“I’m a waiter at my uncle’s restaurant in the holidays,” Barney said. “Zach asked if I could help out.”
“And where is Zach, exactly?” I wanted to see him, desperately. To know that all this romance wasn’t just a joke to him. That he genuinely liked me as much as I liked him.
Barney grinned. “He’ll be here soon.”
I sat back in my chair, trying to ignore the stares of the other customers. Sitting on the large, squashy sofas in the back corner – the ones with the best Wi-Fi reception – I spotted a group of girls from school, and tried not to catch any of their eyes. I should have known that, given how publicly this romance had started, people would be watching to see what happened next. I just hoped I didn’t screw things up too much.
Shifting nervously in my seat, I decided to focus on the table instead of the other people. Zach had definitely put a lot of thought into this. The usual bare wood table had been covered with a tablecloth printed with the text of what looked like Shakespeare, and as I waited, Barney came back with a huge tiered cake stand, each layer covered in cakes with sugar book covers on the top. I smiled as I realized that at least one of them was Gran’s.
“Last but not least,” Barney said as he returned again with a tray laden with two teapots, two cups and saucers, spoons, and a milk jug and a sugar bowl. He set each of them out on the table neatly, then gave me another grin. “Impressed?”
“A little,” I admitted, with a one-shouldered shrug, trying to pretend that this was all in a day’s romance for me. I was supposed to be aloof, holding back – like Amy with Daniel in Gran’s book. In fact, I was already pretty blown away and my date hadn’t even shown up yet. I distracted myself by imagining how I could re-work this for Will and Eva’s story. Maybe they were supposed to go to some fancy restaurant opening, but something happens so instead he sets up a romantic dinner for two in her trailer on set that evening … that could work.
I was still working out the finer details when the café door opened to reveal Zach, holding a large bunch of flowers, and I realized that ‘impressed’ was a serious understatement.
If I’d thought his school uniform looked good on him, the tux he’d chosen for our study date was a thousand times better. (I had a feeling it was the same one he’d worn for the Showcase Musicals Special in The Real Star School.) His hair was styled, but not over-styled, and his expression told me he knew he looked good.
“So, do I get points for romance?” he asked as he handed me the roses before he took his seat.
I tucked my flowers away on the windowsill. “Well, I have to admit, this is more romantic than I imagined when I got your text last night.” He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. I couldn’t let him get too complacent too early in the game, though, not if I wanted him to believe I really was assessing whether this date was good enough to justify a real one. “But you got one thing wrong.” I pointed to the teapot. “My gran’s the tea lover, not me.”
But Zach’s smile only got wider. “Pour some out.”
Intrigued, I did as he said, and couldn’t help but grin when my favourite iced coffee tipped out into the delicate teacup. “OK, I admit it, that was pretty smooth.”
“You think I’d set all this up and not check what your favourite drink is?” Zach shook his head. “I’m not an amateur, you know.”
“Clearly.” I sipped my coffee, looking at him over the rim of the cup as I searched for something to keep the conversation going. What did Amy and Daniel talk about on their first date? Other than horses… “So, if this is my dream study date, what would yours be?” That was OK, right? Learning more about Zach could only be a good thing.
“Honestly? My dream date definitely wouldn’t involve studying,” he said, with a laugh. “But if I get to do it with you, I suppose it’s not that bad.”
Of course. Studying. We actually had to do that at some point. “You realize we’re going to have to eat all those cakes before we even have room on the table to work on our English project.”
“That was kind of the idea,” Zach replied. “But before we get on to the boring project stuff, what’s the verdict? Do I get a shot at a real date?”
It felt like the whole cafe was listening in, waiting for my answer.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“The classics,” Zach replied promptly. “Dinner and a movie. What do you think?”
I thought that spending an evening with Zach anywhere sounded pretty much perfect. Plus, then Eva and Will could get to go to a movie premiere, so I’d have my next scene sorted, too.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if a classic date like that would end with a traditional, romantic first kiss.
My first kiss.
“Sounds great,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I reached for a cake so I didn’t have to look him in the eye as I plucked up the courage to say, “Next weekend?”
“It’s a date,” Zach said, and I felt like my heart might burst.
I was still floating somewhere around cloud nine or ten when I made it home from my study date. Zach had offered to walk me back but then his phone had buzzed and he’d apologetically had to leave – which was fine by me. I’d been holding in my natural impulse to grin like a loon the whole time, in the hope of continuing the hard-to-get act, and by the time I left the Hot Cup my face was aching from actively keeping my smile at non-loon levels.
I spent the walk home plotting exactly how I’d use my date experience to write the next scene in the book, and by the time I pushed open the back door I was itching to sit down and type. Except when I stepped into the kitchen, Mum was waiting for me, a cup of tea in her hands.
“How did it go?” she asked, before I’d even put down my bag of English notes.
“Fine,” I said, underplaying for all I was worth. “I think we should end up with a pretty good project by the end of it.”
Mum gave me a look, and I cursed Anja mentally for letting slip that this wasn’t just another study session. It was a study session with a boy.
Maybe she’d ignore it. After all, this was Mum, not Gran. Maybe she’d give a nod and wave me off.
“Where are the others?” I asked, hoping to distract her.
“Your gran is working, and your dad has taken the boys to the park, which means we’ve probably got twenty minutes before they crash in with one of them covered in blood. So, before that happens, this Zach…”
I sank on to one of the kitchen stools. “What do you want to know?” Meaning, how much did Anja already tell her after I left that afternoon, when she was still waiting for her dad to pick her up.
Mum grinned. “Everything, obviously. He’s new a
t school, right?”
“Right. He started before half-term.” Mum sat there, looking at me, until I started talking again. Before I knew it, I’d filled her in on basically everything I knew about Zach Gates.
Which, I realized with a frown, wasn’t nearly as much as he seemed to know about me. I’d have to fix that, next date.
Our next date. Just the thought of it made me smile.
“So, you’re going out again next weekend?” Mum asked, a small line between her eyebrows.
I nodded. “Dinner and a movie.” Hopefully, movie first. That would give us something to talk about during dinner, and maybe mean we could avoid any embarrassing silences when I couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t, ‘you’re really gorgeous. Are you sure you really want to be here with me?’
“That sounds nice.” Mum’s tone didn’t fit with her words though. In fact, she made it sound anything but nice.
“I think it will be,” I said cautiously. “Why don’t you?”
Mum sighed, and put her tea down on the counter. “It’s not that. I’m sure it will be lovely.”
“But…?”
“But your dad and I played rock, paper, scissors and I lost, so he got to go to the park and I have to have a talk with you.” Wasn’t that just like my parents? Trading off important parental duties to a game of chance. I wasn’t even actually sure which one of them would make the whole conversation more awkward.
At least I didn’t have to have it with Gran, I supposed.
“A talk or The Talk?” I asked. “Because, really, you sent me to a good school. I’m covered, honest. Nothing more to learn here.”
Mum pulled a disbelieving face. “I’m sure St Stephen’s has taught you all about the biology and even some about the emotional side of being a teenager, and relationships and everything—”
“Plus, books!” I interrupted, keen to get this over as quickly as possible. “You bought me books. Dad bought me books. Even Gran bought me books.” Of course, she’d bought them for me for my sixth birthday, when I started asking difficult questions at the dinner table, and Mum had confiscated them until I was older and replaced them with more age-appropriate versions that addressed my concerns but still.