And, truly, was there any way my future lunch mates could’ve made a better first impression? There were two girls sitting at the table Lance had indicated. The pretty Asian girl with red-streaked bangs and matching glasses was the one who’d spoken. She was small and round—and seemed even shorter next to the tall, reed-thin girl who smiled shyly at us before looking down at her sandwich.
“Hannah Kim,” said the first girl. “And this is Sera. I think you’re in our English class and in my history too.”
“And my bio.” Sera’s voice was a whisper. The two words made her soap-white skin blush, a thing I thought only happened to heroines in books. It made me adore her instantly.
“I love your bangs,” I told Hannah, already debating which color I’d tint mine if I had bangs and my parents wouldn’t kill me dead.
“Thanks! I did it while visiting my cousins in Korea this summer, but I think I might keep it. You’re Toby’s friend Merrilee, right? He’s so excited you’re here. And if you like books, then I’m so excited you’re here too. I love to read. I’ve got a book blog and everything. This one is so not a reader.”
Hannah nudged Sera’s shoulder. It made her blush again. “I read. Just not at your impossible book-a-day rate.”
“Unless you value kissing scenes more than writing skill, do not ask Merrilee for book recommendations.” My best friend smirked at me to show that she was—maybe-sorta—joking.
“This is Eliza, and she’s just mad because I said On the Origin of Species was boring.” I plopped down in the seat next to where she was unpacking her lunch. “For the record, it is.”
“Agree,” said Hannah. “I don’t even need to read it to agree. So tell me more—what do you like to read? Or do you mostly stick to romance novels? If so, no judgment. We get enough of that from every other corner of the bookstore.”
“Yeah, since it’s a genre read mostly by women, it must be dumb, right?” We traded eye rolls. As I pulled my sandwich out of my bag, I added, “I’m actually reading an incredibly feminist romance series. It’s about this guy, Blake, and this warrior half-angel heroine—”
“Esmeralda?” Hannah leaned in and nodded. “The Fall with Me series is awesome.” She elbowed Sera. “See? I told you you should read it.”
I elbowed Eliza. “See? I told you not to judge it from that one scene.”
Sera took a deep breath and looked across the table. “Well, I . . . I’m with Eliza. I liked Origins. But I have no interest in reading about Blake.”
“I’ll wear you down eventually,” Hannah said as she linked their hands on the top of the table. I was pretty sure I understood what that meant, but I’ve never let being “pretty sure” stop me from stating the obvious.
“Are you guys a couple?”
“Yes,” said Sera. The intense blush was back, but her gaze was direct.
“Cool.” It was good to know that even though Toby was perpetually single, this school wasn’t a relationship wasteland. “And to answer your question from before, Hannah, I read anything. Anything fiction, that is. Classics, contemporary, fantasy, sci-fi, thriller. I don’t really like war books, but I make an exception for, like, Johnny Tremain and Henry V.”
Hannah laughed. “Eclectic. I like it.”
I shrugged. “And if there’s a romance plot or subplot . . . I’m certainly not going to complain. Like I was telling Eliza this morning: boys are so much better in books.”
“This again?” sighed Eliza.
Hannah snorted. “Well, I agree. Kinda.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, right. Girls are so much better in books?”
She laughed and shook her head, making her red bangs dance. She tapped a pin on her blazer that read “Biracial/Bisexual.” “I’ve got strong opinions on all sorts of fictional love interests. Sometimes the quote-unquote ‘romantic heroes’ are really disturbing—but there are also some truly hot characters that no real-life guy or girl could measure up to.” She squeezed Sera’s hand. “Not that I’d want them to. I’m happier with you than a paper person.”
“See?” I told Eliza. “Hannah thinks some book heroes are better. And I happen to think that Romeo is right up there with Blake, and Rochester, and Gilbert Blythe, and Gatsby.”
Eliza groaned. “Gatsby is a narcissistic mess. He is not romantic.”
I fiddled with the zipper on my lunch bag and ignored her. “And Juliet’s only thirteen. Yet she’s already had way more romance than I’ve had in my whole life.”
“Your whole life is fifteen years,” said Eliza. “Plus, life expectancy back then was so different.”
“True! It’s like dog years. Juliet was probably comparatively thirty,” said Sera.
“Stop killing the romance, both of you!” Hannah threw a blueberry at Sera and aimed another one at Eliza.
Toby caught it from mid air and popped it in his mouth. “Uh-oh, Hannah. You’re getting Eliza’s don’t encourage her glare. What’s this one up to now?” Toby put his tray on the table and dropped his hands onto my shoulders with a playful squeeze. “I heard ‘romance.’ Talking about me?”
I laughed and let my head settle back against him. “You feeling all right, Mayday? You’re more delusional than usual.” Toby and I talked dares, and movies, and fanfiction, and fandoms, and music, and—when we were feeling particularly dorky—math. We did not talk romance. Not if I could avoid it.
“Mayday?” asked Lance as he settled into the chair next to Sera. “Oh, Toby May . . . Ha! I get it.”
“Sorry. That nickname’s off-limits,” I said. Eliza groaned.
“She made me sign in blood.” Toby slid his hands off my shoulders and plopped down beside me. “I’m not allowed to respond to anyone else using it.”
“Don’t even pretend you didn’t use ketchup,” I said.
“Interesting,” said Hannah. She was raising her eyebrows and looking back and forth between us.
“No, it’s really not.” Eliza rolled her eyes. I didn’t actually look over and see her do it, but I could hear the eye roll in her tone. “Listening to Merrilee and Toby recount their childhood playdates and inside jokes is really not interesting at all.”
“I want to know what has Eliza more scowly than usual,” pressed Toby. He swatted my hand away from his brownie.
Rude! I was only going to take a bite. “I was explaining how boys are better in books.”
“Specifically Romeo,” said Hannah. “But I disagree. That book is called a tragedy for a reason.”
“Their situation is tragic, but the characters are romantic,” I countered. “So, Toby, since you were so interested, what do you think?”
I expected a banterish deflection, but Toby took a long sip of water, then frowned slightly. “I haven’t read much romance, but you’ve made me watch more than enough of it. I always liked that Knightley dude from Emma. He’s there as Emma’s friend, and she just has to wake up and realize they should be more.”
I wasn’t clueless about how Toby thought he felt about me. I mean, Eliza referred to him as “the infatuation next door.” Thankfully, not to his face. But last summer, he and I had had The Talk. He’d started to make declarations, and I’d cut him off and listed out all the reasons it would never work. I even used the words “We’d be a catastrophe of a couple.” He’d nodded and agreed. And for most of the twelve months since then, he’d still been the pal who was responsible for all my scars and groundings and muddiest childhood adventures. But occasionally he poked at parameters I’d thought we’d made pretty firm. Occasionally he did things like press his leg to mine under the cafeteria table in a way that felt like it was angling for more-than-friends.
This was a conversation he and I needed to have—again—but not here. Not on the first day of school, not in front of an audience, with Sera and Hannah smirking, Eliza frowning. I didn’t want him to ask his questions, because he wouldn’t like my answers.
I smacked his leg and scooted my chair an inch away. A perfectly friendly, perfectly clear knock it off g
esture that only made him lean toward me and open his mouth—
“Wait! Did I miss the part where we do names?” Curtis looked even more like an overgrown puppy as his flip-flops slid on the floor and he crashed down on the chair next to Hannah’s, the momentum sliding her seat several inches. I felt Eliza stiffen next to me; apparently she still hadn’t forgiven him for walking us to bio. “Please, for the love of all things sacred and sugary, someone tell me their first names!”
“Huh, they really do use our last names in classes, don’t they? ‘Miss Campbell’ sounds so formal,” I said. Toby snorted and Curtis pressed his palms into a prayer posture. “Oh, right! I’m Merrilee. She’s Eliza.”
“Eliza,” he repeated. “So, why was the whole science department lined up to shake your hand before first period?’”
She flushed like a cherub, just like she had when they made her walk a gauntlet of introductions before bio.
Sera snorted. “Clearly someone didn’t read the school newsletter.” She looked around the table for affirmation, but everyone shrugged. Hannah patted her arm. Sera’s voice squeaked when she asked, “Wait, am I the only one who did?”
Eliza raised her hand and Sera exhaled loudly. I smiled around a bite of yogurt—it was such a heart-squish moment of watching two kindred spirits.
Except for Toby and me, everyone at the table was leaning in, openly studying Eliza like a bug. Sera shook her head. “Eliza’s a Gordon-Fergus. As in, daughter of Violet Gordon and Warner Fergus. As in, the Gordon Principle? The Fergus Cycle? They’re the most famous biologists on the planet. Well, living biologists. Darwin’s still probably a bit more well-known.”
“Ohhhh.” Curtis’s expression could only be described as “lit lightbulb.” “Is that why Dr. Badawi couldn’t speak coherently in bio this morning? She’s normally, well, normal. At least she was when I was her lab aide last year.”
Eliza shrugged. Her face was blank, but her knuckles were white.
“So, who are you?” Curtis asked me. “Are you someone special, too?”
I laughed. “Me? No.”
“Hey!” protested Toby, at the same time Eliza said, “Excuse me?”
“Well, my older sister is marrying Senator Rhodes’s son. Does that count?”
Eliza huffed. “Oh, stop being such a middle child! She’s Merrilee and she’s awesome. That’s all you need to know.”
“Welcome,” said Lance. “No offense to the rest of you, but I’m ready for new people. Any new faces are exciting when you’ve been stuck with the same kids since sixth grade at Mayfield Middle Academy.”
I was about to explain that the feeling was mutual and add that I’d been stuck with the same female faces since sixth grade—not that I was remotely romantically interested in anyone at this table—but Toby beat me to speaking.
“That’s a good reminder,” he said. Toby pointed to Eliza and me, then turned to his friends. “No. No. Don’t even think about it. And no.”
I blushed. They laughed.
Eliza stood up. “Please tell me you weren’t just playing some patriarchal role and pretending you have any say in my relationships. Because A) I’m not some commodity you get to trade or restrict, and B) Who gave you the authority to speak for either of us and our desires?”
Hannah and Sera clapped. Toby ground his jaw and looked away. I couldn’t reach out and calm either of them without upsetting the other, so I ignored them both.
“Is now a good time to ask for your phone number?” Curtis faux-whispered to Eliza. “I mean, why not take this opportunity to prove Toby wrong by giving it to me?”
Lance laughed, but Eliza silenced them both with a glare. Before she could follow up with a verbal rejection, I jumped in. “How many classes left?”
“Math, media, and then Convocation,” she said.
“And Convocation is announcements and speeches and stuff? It’s where you said you nap, right, Toby?” I tipped my head back on my chair and whined. “So tired. Need more summer.”
“Probably no napping on the first day,” he said with a grin. “But sit next to me, I’ll poke you if you start yawning.”
6
After school, I opened the passenger door of Toby’s car and leaned in. “Hey, Rory. Fun first day? Good. Now scoot!” I pointed from my little sister to the backseat. “I’ve got permanent shotgun. Right, Mayday?”
“Right-o,” he agreed, reaching across Rory to give me a fist bump. “Rowboat’s my hapless sidekick.”
“Hapless? I’d like to think I’m rather hapful.” I ignored my sister’s glower as she pushed me out of her way and joined Eliza in the backseat. I was used to her glower. Rory was born ticked off at me. Mom swore it was her way of looking up to me, but Mom needed to update the prescription on her rose-colored glasses. “In fact, I’m so hapful, I’ve been adopted already. Both Eliza and I were hapful.” I practically melted onto the tan leather seats of Toby’s car. First days were exhausting.
“Stop saying ‘hapful,’” said Eliza. “But I’m really pleased with our Knight Lights.”
“What? I wanted to adopt you!” Toby dropped his keys but didn’t pick them up. Instead he turned his puppy-dog eyes on me.
“Oh.” My heart squished guiltily. I should’ve known. Why hadn’t I thought of that?
“Too late! She’s claimed.” Eliza sounded elated. I shot her a look and she kicked the back of my seat.
“I’ve planned on being your Knight Light since you told me you were transferring. Who is it? Can’t you tell them no?”
“Sorry! It’s Hannah and Sera. I can’t back out.” I put my hand on his arm—the muscles were tight as he gripped the steering wheel. “Besides, I already know you.”
“Um, can someone fill me in?” Rory asked. “Adopted? Knight Lights?”
Despite having asked those same questions when Hannah and Sera found me after Convocation, I rolled my eyes like she was clueless. It was an older sister’s prerogative, plus she deserved it for stealing shotgun. I would’ve been there first, but I’d gotten lost in the exodus from the Convocation hall. I needed Eliza to point me in the direction of my locker, but I couldn’t see her, or Toby, or Curtis, Lance, Hannah, Sera—any familiar faces. I would even have welcomed the cranky dude. He probably would’ve been delighted to give me directions . . . right into traffic.
It’s possible getting separated had been my fault. I’d slow-poked, hoping to get a glimpse of my emo mystery boy. And it’s really too bad I hadn’t found him. We could’ve paced sadly together until Hannah located me, linked her arm through mine, and asked to adopt me.
“Well?” Now Rory just sounded pissed, and I realized no one had answered her. Eliza was too busy frowning at her phone and Toby was still staring at me like I’d cut his piano strings.
“There are cookies involved.” That’s how Hannah had presented it to me. And ditto Sera to Eliza, when the two of them had joined us. Not that Eliza ate cookies. More for me!
“It’s a Hero High tradition,” clarified Toby. “Sophomores ‘adopt’ a freshman or a new student. It’s sort of like a mentor program, except less mentoring and more boxes of cookies in your locker and a person to ask if you have questions. We’re called Knight Lights—because the school mascot is the Crimson Knight and we ‘light your way’—cheesy, right? Though, I guess it could be worse—adoptees could be called serfs or vassals. You’re sure you’re taken, Merri?”
Eliza didn’t mock Toby’s awful joke or delight in telling him I was. She still hadn’t looked up from her phone. I reclined my seat until I was practically in her lap. She wouldn’t want me asking “You okay?” in front of an audience, so I just reached back and squeezed her hand. She didn’t object, squeezed back. Uh-oh.
“Could you adopt me?” Rory’s voice squeaked on the question, a nervous tick I hadn’t heard since back in the days when she still wet the bed, still called him “Twoby,” and still had the most adorable-obnoxious little kid crush on him. “I mean, Eliza and Merrilee have each other and you—but
I don’t know anyone. So if you can’t have Merri . . .”
More squeaks. Each one made my stomach drop. My first day had been easy—but how had hers been? I hadn’t seen her except one glimpse of the back of her head at Convocation. Worse, I hadn’t even looked for her.
I uprighted my chair and poked his shoulder. “You with Aurora! That’s perfect.”
She rewarded me with a smile, and I congratulated myself on achieving the impossible—for as long as this lasted, I’d be her favorite sister.
Toby sighed. “You’re sure you can’t—”
“No,” interrupted Eliza.
“Please, Toby! Hannah said some guys use Knight Light as a sketchy hookup thing. Please save my sweet baby sister from some skeezeball who just wants a piece of her.”
“I’m not a baby! I’m only ten months younger than you!”
And no longer her favorite sister. It was a fun thirty seconds. Since she was already annoyed, I might as well . . . “I can’t call you my little sister. It’s not my fault you’re a giantess.”
“Can you kick her chair again?” Rory asked Eliza. “Five-six isn’t tall. You’re short!”
“The S-word?” I gasped. “How dare you. Toby, I take it back.” He laughed and turned around in his seat. “Rory, I’d be honored to adopt you, if you want me.”
“I do!” Her flush turned to blush. “I mean, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. Campbell ladies are my favorite.”
Eliza muttered, “They’re individuals—not a category.”
Toby responded by fishing his keys from the floor and starting the car. “Eliza, am I dropping you at your house?”
“No! I need her!” I answered. “She’s helping me get ready for Lillian’s engagement party. I’m codependent when it comes to formal wear. Oh, hey, there’s Curtis!” I spotted him as Toby backed out of the parking space, but he was too far away to call a greeting. “I like him. Not like like, but I like him as a human.”
“He’s a good guy,” said Toby. Eliza grumbled, but he ignored her. “And his mom is the best baker. She’s from Egypt and makes this almond cake, basbousa.” He paused to drool over the memory, and I took the time to Google bass-boo-sah on my phone. But, yeah, I didn’t spell it right. “I swear, even if I didn’t like him, I’d still be friends just for his mom’s cooking.”
Bookish Boyfriends Page 4
