Elena smiled, a full smile this time. Marco smiled back.
“It’s a fake date, then,” Elena said.
And Marco didn’t know why, but he thought it might not be as boring as it sounded. Also, he’d just given up a good chunk of his free time. Cecilia needed to dump Will soon.
Chapter 17
“One green tea latte,” Elena said. She double-checked the table number on the computer and took the tray with her. The Saturday midday rush was in, some tourists out for brunch, but a lot of locals using Melo’s for the Wi-Fi and discounted pumpkin drinks.
Elena squeezed past one table and then another. She kept her focus on getting the order to the customer. She’d been doing that all day, thinking only about the task at hand. It kept her from thinking about the fact her dad hadn’t called to check if she was okay, to tell her she could come back now, that he was over his plan of trying to save the building.
She found her table. The customer had her back turned to Elena, a head of platinum blond waves visible. Elena brought the order over.
“Green tea latte?” she asked. The girl turned. It wasn’t a stranger, it was Cecilia.
Cecilia smiled. She had a laptop in front of her, her browser open to the SAT site.
“That would be me,” Cecilia said. She scooted her things to one side, as if the mug might take up the whole table. “It’s good to finally get a chance to meet you, one on one.”
Elena tried to smile. This was the girl Will liked right now, the one who, at some point, had helped Mia too.
“I saw you at your family’s Thanksgiving dinner,” Elena said, because what else was there to say?
Cecilia smiled, a charming smile that almost made Elena want this girl’s approval. “We didn’t get much in the way of introductions. Although, I do feel like I know you, from everything Will’s told me. I was glad to hear from Lucas you’re coming to the tango exhibition next week.”
“I am,” Elena said. “Marco invited me.”
“I’ll be glad to get in a whole conversation, then,” Cecilia said. “I’d invite you to sit and chat, but I’m working on some SAT practice and I can see you’re busy too.” She smiled, took a sip of her latte and then set the mug back down. “Delicious. Did Will make it?”
Elena nodded. “Yeah, he’s our best barista.”
“It tastes just like the one he whipped up for me in New York.” Cecilia played with the handle of her mug. “I’ll admit, I might have stopped by to say hi to him. His shift ends in half an hour, so I wanted to surprise him with a movie afterward.”
Elena wanted to ask what movie, and if Cecilia knew that Will usually stayed over his shift, especially on Saturdays when they had more customers. Instead she said, “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
“Hopefully he likes the movie I picked,” Cecilia said. “Sorry, I should let you get back to work. Can you let Will know I’m here?”
“Sure,” Elena said. She nodded, already walking back to the coffee bar. She couldn’t get a read on Cecilia. Her tone had been sweet, not sweet enough to the point of fake, but she really hadn’t seemed that interested in talking to Elena. Which was fine, because she was dating Will, so he was the only one Cecilia needed to have an interest in. Elena couldn’t put her finger on it.
She stepped into the kitchen as Will handed her another drink.
“Table twelve, I think,” he said. Then he paused. “You good?”
“Cecilia’s here,” Elena said. “She wanted to surprise you with an after-work movie.”
“She’s here?” Will asked, smiling. “I guess I can’t stay extra time today. Do you know how long she’s been waiting?”
“Not long,” Elena said. “I can cover anything extra to do. I’ll be here until six.” She’d volunteered for a double shift, because of the money of course, but also she didn’t want to go to Bee’s at any point. She and Marco were going to Mr. Thomas’s house after her shift ended. That would buy her enough time to only have to stop by Bee’s to check in on her dad, without him knowing she was checking in.
If he’d closed up Bee’s then Elena knew he’d be all right. Will had checked this morning to make sure Andres had opened the store.
“You’re doing a double shift?” Will asked. “Is this because of the backed-up rent? With how quickly everything happened yesterday, we didn’t get a chance to talk about it. Then when you came over, you fell asleep before I could ask.”
Elena had spent a good hour with her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, until Will had started getting ready for bed. When she heard him blow up the air mattress, she’d known she’d safely avoided the conversation.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Elena said. “My dad said he’ll figure it out, right? I’ll stay out of his way until he does.”
Will leaned in. “You don’t mean that,” he said. “You guys had a fight, so you both said harsh things. You’re welcome to stay at my place as long as you need to, but I do think you should at least let your dad know you’re okay.”
“Did he text you?”
Will nodded. “He knew you were with me,” he said. “But he wanted to make sure.”
Elena looked away. “Have fun with Cecilia,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure this out. Okay?”
He nodded again. “Okay.”
Then he went back to making orders and Elena went back to delivering them. Luckily, in the craziness of the Saturday, few customers stopped to ask her if she was the girl dating Marco Silva.
She went back out with another order, looking up to find Cecilia staring in her direction. When Elena caught her, her gray eyes went wide, but then she collected herself and smiled, holding up the mug of green tea latte and mouthing delicious before setting it down again.
Elena couldn’t help but want to ask her if she ever thought about Marco’s kiss.
__________
“This place looks haunted,” Marco said.
Elena stood beside him in front of Mr. Thomas’s dilapidated front door. The huge brass knocker was in the shape of bull. The creature’s eyes were rusted through.
“It’s not haunted,” Elena said. She knocked with her hand, not wanting to pick up the knocker. It seemed to follow her wherever she moved. “I don’t think it is.”
Marco laughed. “Right,” he said. “When you see the ghost of this place’s original owner don’t come asking for help.”
“How could you help?” Elena asked. “Only a trained ghost hunter could help me.”
Marco laughed again. It was a subdued laugh, like that of a person who hadn’t laughed in a long time, or perhaps didn’t want to laugh. It made her smile to see him not look all together mad at something. She knew what she said hadn’t even been funny.
The door opened. Marco and Elena stepped back at the same time. The heavy wooden monster pulled back, making Elena think there might be a ghost after all. It wasn’t until she saw the thin shape of Mr. Thomas, the white wisp of hair on his head, and his inch-thick glasses, that she calmed.
“You’re early,” he said. Then he looked at Marco. “Is this the potential new owner of my book?”
Elena nodded. “Hi, Mr. Thomas. This is Marco. He’s interested in acquiring a Preston Blanchard book to gift to his grandfather. Thank you again for letting us stop by on short notice.”
The old man nodded. He motioned them inside. “I’m only doing it because your father owns one of the last few honest businesses left in Glensford. When I give him a book, I know it’ll go to a trustworthy owner. You can’t just give books away to anyone, you know. It brings terrible luck.”
Elena nodded, like this was a sentiment she shared, and then followed him through the living room. It didn’t take but two steps into the old duplex to see the first stack of books. Then another on her right. Shelves lined every wall of the first floor, neat stacks filled in the spaces in between.
This place had more books than Bee’s. Mr. Thomas walked on, not noticing that she’d stopped to look around. Elena turn
ed to find that Marco had too.
“It’s like a library,” he said. “Who would read this much?”
Elena knew a person who would love this place. Mia would probably see this is as her ultimate life goal, a house full of books to keep her company. For as much as Elena read, Mia was the true reader. When she wasn’t studying, she always had her nose in some romance novel or a fantasy story to lure her away.
“This way,” Mr. Thomas said, turning to keep them moving.
Elena and Marco followed, sharing a glance. The spaces between the shelves were narrow, the staircase to the second floor even more so. Elena’s hand brushed Marco’s twice.
The whole house smelled of paper and ink, of words and ideas brought to the present from authors long gone.
Mr. Thomas passed two doors, then stopped at a third. He nodded to himself, pulling a key from his pocket to unlock it.
“I’ll be heading out to meet with another collector about a potential Christmas Carol first edition. I trust you won’t make a mess of my home, until then. This is my history room. If I have any Preston Blanchard books they’ll be in here.”
“Thank you,” Elena said. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait? It won’t be long-” She didn’t want to stay in this house alone, well, with Marco.
“Like I said, I trust your father, so I’ll trust you.”
“How much would you like for it?” Elena knew a Preston Blanchard book wasn’t widely popular, but it was expensive among avid history readers.
“No charge,” Mr. Thomas said. “I never particularly liked the man. If you clear space on my shelves, that’ll be payment enough. I also feel guilty about not making my usual November purchase from your shop. I’ll be off now. Stick to the history room, please.”
Elena said nothing, because quite honestly, she couldn’t think of what to say. Mr. Thomas was helping them without needing to . He was leaving her in this house filled with prized books without thinking she’d take one she shouldn’t.
As if reading her mind, Mr. Thomas said, “I keep all the rooms locked up and my most valuable books are in my safe.” Then he nodded, gave Marco a glance over, and left, back down the stairs.
Elena waited until she heard the front door close to finally step into the history room.
She turned to Marco, who closed the door behind him. “That was-”
“Weird,” Marco said. “This whole things is strange.” His eyes traveled around the room. Elena turned around, following his glance.
It wasn’t a huge room, but a maze of shelves made it seem so. It was a labyrinth of history books, stretching up and around. On the back wall was a set of shelves with a ladder beside them. She hoped Mr. Thomas alphabetized his collection.
Marco walked up to a shelf, pressing his hands to the books.
“Don’t touch those,” Elena said. She reached for his hand, catching it in hers instead of making him let go. They were holding hands.
Marco looked down where their hands met and then back up. Elena let go.
“They’re not organized by author or title,” he said.
She could still feel the warmth of his skin against hers.
“Um, maybe by time period, or by year published.”
Marco picked out two books from the shelf and scanned through the pages. Elena took one before he had a chance to flip more pages. She slipped it back on the shelf.
“Be careful,” she said. “We don’t know how old these books are.”
“This book is about Roman myths,” Marco said, holding up the one in his hands. Then he pointed to the one in Elena’s. “That one is about the Nazca lines. They were published thirty years apart.” He sighed. “It’ll take us years to find what we’re looking for.”
“Maybe not,” Elena said. “Why don’t we start on opposite corners and then make our way around?”
Marco sighed. “Or a better idea, I just give you the money and we pretend like you gave me the book.”
“I thought it was for your grandfather,” Elena said. She waited. Marco sighed again.
“Fine. We’ll look until the owner of the haunted house returns. I’ll take that end, you find your space.”
“What was the book called again?” Elena asked.
“A History of Glensford: 1955-1975.”
“Any particular reason you want that one?”
“It has a picture of my grandmother and grandfather together when they opened up the first Melo’s Coffee. It was the only picture taken of the opening that day.”
“Really?” Elena had always thought Melo’s Coffee was a popular franchise, with a grand opening for every store.
Marco nodded. “No one thought the cafe would make it. And my grandparents’ families were in Brazil. The only person who showed up was this strange young man fascinated with preserving Glensford’s history.”
“Preston Blanchard,” Elena said. She still couldn’t get used to saying the name. It sounded like it belonged in a southern gothic novel.
“That would be him,” Marco said. He pointed to the shelves. “We might as well get started.”
“Actually, I might get some water first,” Elena said. “Do you want some?”
“Sure,” Marco said. Then he smiled. “Don’t let the ghosts get you first.”
Elena waved him off and turned back to the door. The dust was drying her throat. She reached for the doorknob, but when she did, she found it didn’t budge. That was odd. She tried again, careful to not put too much pressure on the rusted knob.
“It’s locked,” she said.
“What was that?” Marco emerged from the bookshelves.
Elena pointed to the door. “We’re locked in.”
Chapter 18
They were going to die.
Marco didn’t know how Elena could be so calm right snow. She looked through another shelf, for a book he really regretted even bringing up now.
“It would help if you looked through the shelves too,” Elena said.
“We’re locked in a stranger’s haunted house,” Marco said. “He locked us in here to kill us.”
“He said the doors are old,” Elena said.
“You believe that?” Marco said. He’d taken a seat next to the shelf Elena had been searching through. He knew it was pointless, but he’d texted Lucas his location just in case, with a time to call the police by. His brother had responded with a thumbs up.
“No,” Elena said. “I think he locked us in here so we wouldn’t take anything, but I’m trying to remain calm about it. He won’t kill us. And if he tries, we can throw a bookshelf on him.”
“Death by what he loves the most,” Marco said. “Poetic.”
Elena laughed. She stopped looking through the books in front of her and sat down bedside Marco. Her leg brushed against his as she sat, relaxing her back against the bookcase.
“I just saw a book on the history of zebras next to one on escapes from Alcatraz.” She looked around. “I figure there’s a solid three, maybe four thousand books in here. I’ll need your help if you want find your book.”
“I looked through all the back shelves,” Marco said.
“How about we take a ten minute break and then get back to searching?” Elena asked.
Marco nodded. “Fine.” He breathed in what felt like a thousand years-worth of old books. “This place feels like a giant moth-filled closet.”
Elena stretched out her arms, yawning. “You just described the location of my first kiss,” she said. Then she looked up at him, waiting.
“Why do you keep bringing up your first kiss?” Marco asked. “Is this like a fact I should know as your fake boyfriend?”
“No,” Elena said. “I’m just hoping it’ll trigger a memory for you.”
“Memory of what?”
She sighed. “Your freshman year, did you attend a Halloween party dressed as a three-hole-punched piece of paper?”
Marco thought back to his freshman year. That was right. He’d gone to a party Cecilia had invited him to at
the last minute. He didn’t want to get a costume so Lucas had cut out three black circles and taped them to Marco’s shirt. He figured it was from a tv show or something.
“Yeah,” Marco said. “I did.” He hadn’t thought about that party in years. Mostly because Cecilia had showed up with a date, leaving him to talk to kids from school he didn’t know.
“I went to that party,” Elena said. “I was dressed as the mad hatter, face full of makeup, crazy hat, and the unbearable contacts. My friend Mia took me.”
Oh no. Marco remembered a mad hatter and a game of spin the bottle that had made him go into the closet with said mad hatter. He hadn’t talked to the girl much through the night, but in the closet, in the darkness of it, he had. They’d laughed a lot, the nervous laughter of two freshmen who didn’t know any better.
“I was your first kiss?” Marco asked. “That’s why you keep bringing it up.”
Elena hid her face behind her hands. Her cheeks flared red. “We kissed,” she said. “Then when I came back around later to try and find you, I heard you laughing about it with some guy. You said it’d been a terrible kiss and that you were trying to avoid me.”
Marco didn’t remember that part. Well, it did sound like something he would have said to his friends, but not really meant.
“Is that why you hated me?” he asked.
She lowered her hands and now he could see her face. “I didn’t hate you,” she said. “I think I was embarrassed more than anything. Mad, yes, definitely mad.”
He remembered Elena not liking him from the first time he’d walked into Bee’s Books. He’d always thought it was because of who he was, his family and his money, that sort of thing.
“I don’t remember saying that stuff,” he said. “And you’ve spent years mad about it.”
“It’s dumb,” Elena said. “But it was my first kiss, and I don’t know, I guess I thought-”
“We’d end up kissing some more after it?” Marco felt like he should apologize, but instead he wanted to hear what Elena had to say.
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