Poemsia

by Lang Leav

  “I thought my macarons would have gotten lost in the sea of gifts,” said Jonesy, reading my mind.

  “Actually, Pop ate one, and Jess and I kind of split the rest.”

  “Predictable,” he said, with a wry grin.

  “Speaking of gifts—I’ve got something for you! Jess and I saw it in a shop next to Egg & Yolk when we were in New York.” I reached into my bag for a little purple box and slid it across the table.

  He opened it and burst out laughing. It was a fridge magnet displaying the phrase “I kiss better than I cook.”

  “It’s for the magnet wall.”

  A sad look came over his face, and his eyes darted to the Altar. “Thanks, but it looks like I’ll be shutting this place down.”

  My heart sank. “But there must be something you can do! Jess and I can help out here, especially on weekends when it gets really busy. You can pay us in cupcakes.”

  He sighed. “I wish it were that simple. My landlord just raised the rent up again, and this time it’s pretty much the last straw. I’ve burned through all my savings—nothing left. That’s why I called this place Last Chance. Literally my last chance to follow my dream.”

  “You should have called it Thanks for Muffin.”

  He laughed. “I guess you saw that in my notebook, huh?”

  “I also liked the name Good in Bread. But that really sucks, Jonesy. Everyone loves it here! There will be an uprising, for sure. Possibly led by us.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “What are you going to do next?”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  Jess turned up and stood behind Jonesy, clearing her throat.

  He hastily got up, chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Hey, Jess, thanks for the magnet.”

  She blew him a kiss as he hurried off to the till, where a couple stood waiting.

  “Oh my God, do I have news!” she said, waving her arms dramatically.

  “What is it?”

  “OK, so get this. I was at Deep Sea Diver HQ, and I bumped into Penelope. Of course, we got into a huge argument. It was pretty heated, and Teddy physically had to separate us. First time I’ve seen her since we got back from New York, so as you can imagine, I had a few things to get off my chest.”

  A smile crept across my face. Even though the boys regularly complained about the tension between the two girls, I thought that secretly they thrived on the drama.

  Jess continued. “Anyway, Penelope stormed out in a huff—so predictable. That bitch can dish it out, but she can’t take it. She was in such a hurry to escape the argument she was definitely losing that she left her phone behind.”

  I was all too familiar with the triumphant look on Jess’s face, and I groaned. “Jess, tell me you didn’t.”

  She ignored me. “I remember one time when Teddy was teasing Penelope about using her birthdate as her pin code. The idiot apparently uses it for everything, even her debit card. I literally could rob her blind if I wanted. Anyway, it took me all of five seconds to work out her DOB, and as soon as Teddy had his back turned, I was in.”

  I buried my face in my hands. “Oh, Jess.”

  “The first thing I did was click on her Reader account.” Jess pinched her thumb and forefinger. “I was this close to deleting it.”

  I gasped. “Jess! No!”

  Jess cut me off. “No one comes after my best friend and gets away with it.”

  “Easy there, Corleone.”

  “Then something caught my eye. It was a tab for secret groups. I thought, what the hell—she didn’t think twice about screwing you over, so I went in. And bingo! There it was: a salacious and incriminating thread where she brags about her evil plot to destroy you.”

  My jaw dropped. “Serious?”

  “I took some screen grabs and AirDropped them straight to my phone. Here, take a look!”

  She handed over her phone, and I scrolled through. It was a private conversation between Penelope and two other users—Sean-of-the-read and Bookbabe94.

  Penelope: Here’s the article I wrote about Verity Wolf and that poem she stuck up from Poemsia. What do you think ppls?

  Bookbabe94: Reading now

  Sean-of-the-read: Isn’t she that pop poet who got famous bc of Karla Swann?

  Penelope: Uh huh. B&N are hosting her at the Sojourn tonight. Can you fucking believe it?

  Bookbabe94: OMG busted!

  Bookbabe94: Wait just did a quick google. There’s a BuzzFeed article where she says she didn’t write that poem????? That it was just a misattribution and she tried to tell Poetry Seen? Here’s a link.

  Sean-of-the-read: So what if she isn’t a plagiarist? Who gives a shit?

  Bookbabe94: Ahhahah, ur right. Hang the bitch anyway.

  Sean-of-the-read: This pop poetry shit is killing literature. You’re doing the world a favor.

  Bookbabe94: Do it Pen. Destroy her!

  Sean-of-the-read: Yaaas queen, publish! Do it! Tear that bitch down

  Penelope: OK, omg. I just hit the upload button. It’s live guys.

  Bookbabe94: Omg shit’s gonna hit the fan

  Sean-of-the-read: Gonna make some popcorn. BRB

  “Unbelievable,” I said, shaking my head.

  “You see? Now we have proof that she knew you’re not a plagiarist. You know what I think?” Jess’s eyes shone with glee. “I think we should go public with it.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  She grinned, looking like the cat that got the cream. “So? Want to start working on the tweet and expose her for the monster she is?”

  I considered it. Part of me wanted to out Penelope for the lying, evil rat that she was. But wouldn’t that make me just as bad as she is?

  “Well?” Jess gave me an expectant look.

  “Let me talk to her first.”

  I caught Penelope as she was walking out of Deep Sea Diver. She looked mildly shocked to see me but quickly recovered.

  “I have to talk to you,” I said.

  “Oh God. I’ve already had a showdown with your idiot friend this morning. I’m not taking it down, and that’s final.”

  “That’s your call, Penelope.”

  “I guess we’re done here, then?”

  She pushed past me as I reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “Not so fast.”

  Without a word, I handed her my phone. I watched a myriad of emotions cross her face as she scrolled through the screen grabs Jess had taken. Her face went deathly pale.

  “This—this is private,” she sputtered. “How the hell did you get this?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “We’re watching you, Penelope. We’re watching your every move.”

  “This is illegal! I’m calling Daddy.”

  She pulled her phone out of her bag, thumbs moving at lightning speed.

  “Sure, Penelope. While you do that, I’ll just upload these screen grabs, so the world can finally see the real you.”

  She froze. Slowly, she put her phone away and met my eyes. “Why haven’t you exposed me yet? You have a huge social media following. What do you want? Is it money? Are you blackmailing me?”

  “I just want you to write a retraction and full apology for Billy. Set the record straight.”

  She stared at me for a long time, then her lips quivered, eyes filling up. “OK. And what else?”

  “That’s all.”

  She was quiet for a few moments, and I almost felt sorry for her. When she finally spoke, her voice was very subdued. “Before you came along, Verity, I had all these plans. I was going to be a poet—not a pop poet like you,” she added quickly. I rolled my eyes. “I mean, I’m not even sure if your work even belongs there. To be honest, anyone with a social media following gets lumped into that category, and in your case, it’s probably not correct. The thi
ng is I actually do appreciate your work, and I hate that I like it.” She was blubbering now. I reached into my pocket and handed her Sash’s handkerchief. “Thanks,” she sniffed. When she saw his monogrammed initials, she started bawling even harder. “And to top it off, you stole Sash from me.”

  “He doesn’t belong to you, Penelope.”

  She gave me a miserable look. “But I liked him first!” She must have realized how childish she sounded because she quickly changed her tone. “I know, I know—Sash is his own person, but I can’t help it. I was going to marry him. I even picked out the names of our kids. Cortland and Patchouli.”

  “Of course those would be their names,” I said, already feeling sorry for Penelope’s future children.

  “And I picked out the Vera Wang dress I was going to wear at our wedding. I even found a company that makes these life-like ice sculptures. I was going to have one made of me and Sash. I had it all planned out, and then you came along, and everything went to hell. The thought of losing him drove me crazy, and I just panicked. I know it’s not your fault, and it was mean to treat you the way I did . . .” She trailed off. There she was, standing in the middle of the street with her usually perfect mascara running, and for the first time, Penelope seemed genuine.

  Her voice trembled. “It’s just so unfair, you know?”

  “Unfair? You’re young, beautiful, rich, and talented. I’d given anything to look like you.”

  “I suppose most girls would,” she sniffed, and I raised my eyebrows at her. “But I know what I did was wrong. I wanted to hurt you, but now I realize how awful I was. I’m really sorry, Verity—I would take it all back if I could.”

  “OK,” I said, still doubtful.

  She continued. “I never thought I’d say this, but thanks, Verity. Thanks for giving me a chance to make this right. I mean, you could have outed me, and that could have destroyed my reputation. At least this way, I probably can salvage things.”

  Penelope sniffed a little and babbled, “You’re really OK, Verity, and Jess isn’t an idiot. She’s doing a great job at Deep Sea Diver, and she lent me a tampon one time when I was out, even though we’d just been screaming at each other. That was big of her.”

  “I’ll let her know you said that.”

  “Tell her I like Finding Nemo, too. In fact, I love it! I love that damn cartoon to pieces, but I’ve never admitted it to anyone. I don’t know why. I’ve never had girlfriends because they’re always so jealous of me. But I look at you and Jess, and sometimes I have to admit . . . I wish she was my friend.”

  I smiled, thinking how powerful the two of them would be if they ever managed to put their differences aside. “You never know. Stranger things have happened.”

  “Do you really think so?” She looked almost hopeful.

  “The trick to winning Jess over is cupcakes. She often mentions the ones you brought into the office that one time.”

  She hiccupped and laughed. “Thanks for the tip.”

  We shared an awkward smile.

  “I know I’ve been ghastly to you, Verity, and that’s not really who I am. I’m going to make it up to you.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I had to admit it was exhausting to always be on guard around Penelope. I knew if the two of us could find a way to get along, it would mean the world to Sash. Then I thought back to the stunt she pulled that night at his house and immediately felt wary.

  She must have read the look on my face because she continued. “I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you after all the things I’ve done. But I will set things right; I promise. In fact, I’m going to start right now.”

  She dialed a number on her phone and put the call on speaker.

  “Hi, Penny,” answered Sash’s mum.

  Penelope looked at me and took a long, deep breath. “Dotty, about the joint I found at Graham’s birthday party . . .”

  A couple of days later, Jess and I found ourselves sitting in Mei Lyn’s office.

  “Verity, your book sales are going through the roof. Just got your first royalty check and it’s a good thing you’re sitting down.”

  She handed me the check, and on it was a number so long it actually took me a few moments to work out the figure. I’d never seen so much money in my life. “Is that for the rest of the year?”

  “That’s how much you’ve earned in the past month.”

  Jess was staring openmouthed and looked like she was going to faint. “You’re buying me lunch tomorrow. And a new dress,” she added quickly.

  Mei Lyn tossed her a look.

  “What? It’s not like she can’t afford it.”

  “So what happens now? Do I get all this money right away?” I immediately thought of Pop and how I could use some of the money to get him seen by a top specialist.

  “Of course you don’t get the money right away,” said Mei Lyn matter-of-factly.

  My face fell.

  “It’s an international check,” she continued, “so it would take at least three days to clear—”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence because Jess and I started squealing at the top of our lungs.

  She opened her mouth to tell us off but closed it again, her lips forming into a tiny smile.

  Twenty-one

  Spring was in the air when I sat with Pop in the courtyard. Nan’s bonsai garden wasn’t the same without her love and care, even though Pop did his best to maintain it. Sash had just started bonsai classes and was slowly taking it over.

  “Sash has been a real gem, hasn’t he?” Pop instinctively followed my train of thought.

  “He’s pretty special,” I smiled and knew it was an understatement.

  We were quiet for a few moments, enjoying the warmth and birdsong.

  “I’m so proud of you.” Pop looked at me with a new intensity. “You’ve had a lot of tragedy in your life, things that weren’t your fault. Lost your parents when you were only seven and then Nan, far too early. You’ve known more sadness than anyone deserves, but despite it all, you’ve managed to stay optimistic.”

  “I thought I was going to lose you, too, Pop.” My voice cracked with emotion.

  He nodded, and suddenly his expression was serious.

  “Verity, there’s something I want to discuss with you. Don’t fret,” he said, seeing the worried expression on my face. “It’s not bad news. In fact, I’d say it’s good.”

  I heard something in his tone that told me it would be a mixture of both. I took a deep breath and steeled myself.

  Pop reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to me. “This is the title to Wolf Books. It’s yours—if you want it. Mei Lyn has drawn up the papers.”

  I felt a jolt of panic. “But, Pop, I’m not ready—”

  He held up his hand to stop me. “Yes, you are, Verity. You’ll be fine. Mei Lyn and Jess have your back if you need it. I have a feeling you won’t.”

  “But you’ll be here, too, Pop. Why are you talking as if you won’t be? The doctor said you’re going to be OK as long as you take it easy. I mean, Pop—” I felt all choked up and was speaking so fast I tripped over my words.

  “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. I’ve been thinking a lot about things, ever since I ended up on that gurney. When I married your Nan, we spent our honeymoon in Kyoto. We stayed in this little house and spent our days visiting shrines and bathing in hot springs. We slept when we were tired, woke up when we weren’t. We ate simply—rice, fish, and pickled vegetables. I spent some time with master bookbinders, got to see some rare manuscripts. Nan developed her lifelong passion for bonsai. It was one of the happiest times in our lives. We’d planned to go back once your dad took over the store, but of course that never happened. So I’d like to do it now. I know it’s something Nan would have wanted for me.”

  “For how long?”
<
br />   “I’m going to get a one-way ticket and see how it goes. I figured if I sell my signed collection of books, I could live off that for a long time.”

  I felt a grim weight in my chest, thinking how much I would miss Pop, how untethered I’d feel without him. What if his heart gave out again and I wasn’t there? I couldn’t bear the thought of it. “What about your condition, Pop? Who will look after you?”

  “I’ve spoken to my doctor, and he agrees it would be the best thing for me. They have excellent physicians in Kyoto. I will be in good hands—don’t you worry.”

  By now my anxiety had reached fever pitch, and I opened my mouth to tell Pop he was making a mistake, that he should stay here where I could take care of him. Then I thought of the poem from Poemsia, and all at once I understood what the poet meant when she wrote about the certainty of endings—how each goodbye had its own destiny to fulfil. I realized Pop had already made up his mind and nothing I could do would convince him otherwise.

  I let out a sigh of resignation. “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”

  “Not this time, my sweet.”

  “Will you check in with me? At least once a day.”

  “I promise.”

  “And if you feel like coming back, you come back, OK?” I choked on the last word, tears spilling down.

  “Hey,” he said, and his eyes began to water.

  Then there were no more words to say. It was done.

  After a few moments, Pop cleared his throat. “You know, I’ll bet if you and Sash put your minds to it, you could turn this old place into something special.”

  Together we looked at the new awning Sash had put up while I was away. The yellow and white stripes reminded me of New York. Suddenly, I was transported back to the rooftop that first day with Sash when he confessed his dream of owning a bookstore. A shiver went down my spine, and I was overcome with a feeling of coming full circle. Goose bumps rose all along my arms as my mind conjured up images of what this place could be, the things we could dream up and do together.

  I took a deep breath. “Pop?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “You know your signed books? I know someone who would be interested in acquiring your entire collection.”