the books were purchased locally, so I used my one brain cell to figure out that it must’ve been your mother’s collection.” And then he takes a deep breath and adds, “It’s yours now.”
My eyes widen. I stare at him, wondering if I’d heard properly. “This book?”
“The entire collection.”
I gawk at him. “All of them?”
He outstretches his arms. “It was yours to begin with. I’m just giving it back to you—you can take them, or you can keep them here.”
Take them—or keep them? This…this is too much to comprehend. I shake my head. “No, I—I know how much those books sold for. This must’ve cost…” I trail off, because I can’t even begin to think how much money it would take to buy something like this, or how much money Vance needed to give for its owner to relinquish their hold.
He rubs the back of his head, a little sheepish. “Do…you want the rest of them? I mean, I’m sure they can be sold for—”
“What? No! Please!”
His eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Then…”
I hug The Starless Throne to my chest. Why does this feel like goodbye? It feels like it’s permanent, as if he’s going away. “Why?”
“Because you seem happy with these books.”
Oh. I am. But he only has half of the equation. Because I’ve felt happiest not just with these books, but with someone to share them with, and I don’t know how to say that. “And…you? If I keep these books here—will you be here, too?”
He smiles, but there is something bitter hidden behind it. Something I’m not sure I trust. “Of course I will. I’ve still got loads more boring books to read.”
“They’re not boring,” I chastise him, but his words make me feel better. I step closer to him, and I take him gently by his chin, and move his face down toward me. I kiss him. “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips. “I could stay here forever.”
“Mmh,” he mumbles against my mouth, “but don’t you have a football game to get to?”
I gasp, pulling away from him. “Oh, shit! I told Annie I’d pick her up!” I try to hand the book off to him again, but he pushes it back toward me.
“Take it. You might get bored,” he says, the edge of his lips twisting into a grin.
“I’ll come back later? And we can finish The Starless Throne,” I add. “I love the ending. It’s one of my favorites.” As he agrees, I kiss him one last time and rush out of the library—our library—and out of the castle-house to my car waiting on the side of the road.
The Homecoming game can’t be over quickly enough. But first: we have to make sure Garrett does not win Homecoming King.
* * *
—
I ENVY THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE FOOTBALL GAMES, because I don’t understand the sport at all. Even as I make my way up the aluminum bleachers with Annie, picking our way between popcorn on the seats and gum on the ground to an empty section next to the band, I don’t understand the appeal. It’s October and the air is sticky and humid still, and there’s a weird smell that I can only assume is coming from the marching band, but otherwise it’s a beautiful night. It’s almost game time, and the band is beginning to file out of the bleachers and onto the sides of the field, near the end zones, to start the pregame show.
During halftime, those running for Homecoming will parade onto the field one last time, and the principal—Mrs. Rogers, an ex-Marine whom I am thankful I have never crossed paths with on the disciplinary scale—will announce them one last time. Garrett and a few of his buddies are already down by the sidelines, along with most of the other contestants.
I frown, squinting down the sideline. “Where’s Quinn?”
Annie, with a tray of nachos, shrugs. “Dunno. They said they didn’t need a ride to the game.”
“Really? They’re your best friend!”
“Yours too, don’t forget. And there are things neither of you know about me, so it ends up being fair,” she replies mysteriously.
I roll my eyes. “Your AO3 username isn’t as hidden as you think, you know.”
She mock-gasps. “How dare you! It’s very hidden.”
“I guarantee I can search ‘Starfield Carmindor/Sond hurt-comfort fantasy AU amnesia’ and your fic will be at the very top.”
She blinks, frowns, and then shoves a chip into her mouth and says around it, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmm-hm.”
We laugh, because she knows that I