The Bookish Life of Nina Hill - Abbi Waxman Page 0,77
you would suddenly attack.”
Millie giggled harder, then stopped. “I miss my dad,” she said.
Nina nodded. “I bet you do. What was he like?”
Millie smiled. “He was amazing. He played with me all the time. He was pretty old, but he came up with the best games. He watched my favorite shows with me, that kind of thing. We would read together every single day. He sat with me at night when I went to sleep, because sometimes I get scared of the dark.” She looked at Nina quickly but found no judgment there. “And sometimes he would set up my toys in funny ways. Long lines of Littlest Pet Shop animals marching across the floor, dinosaurs dressed in Barbie clothes, you know? That kind of thing.”
Nina smiled. “That must have taken some effort.”
“Yeah, dinosaurs have shorter arms than Barbie.”
“Everyone has shorter arms than Barbie.”
Millie nodded. “He rolled up the sleeves. My mom works a lot, but he was kind of retired, so he picked me up from school. Now my babysitter does it. She’s OK.” A little lemonade had spilled on the table, and she drew a starfish. “It’s been over a month now, but I’m always sad to see her car.”
Nina wasn’t sure what to say. She was surprised by Millie’s description of her dad. Their dad. For the first time, she wished she’d met him and impulsively reached across the table and squeezed Millie’s hand.
“He sounds great. I’m really sorry I didn’t know him.”
Millie looked up, her eyes shiny. “Yeah, you would have liked him, I expect.” She took a breath. “Lots of people did. He was my best friend, outside of school.”
“Who’s your best friend in school?” Nina was curious.
“Oh, you know, it changes.” Millie looked at the table. There was a sudden stillness to her shoulders, and Nina looked at Archie.
“Do you like school?”
Millie shook her head, and suddenly burst out, “Not really. I have friends, sometimes, but most of the time no one talks to me. Which is fine, honestly, because I’m happy on my own; it’s totally fine. Really fine. And no one wants to talk about books, except sometimes Harry Potter because they’ve read it, but honestly, I don’t know if they really read properly because they don’t know anything, and if I say, well, what about The Candymakers, or Calpurnia Tate, or Penderwicks, and they’re like, what’s that, then I feel bad.” She subsided.
“Bad for them because they haven’t read those books, which, by the way, are all awesome, awesome books? I love all of those.” Nina felt herself relaxing further; this was her favorite topic. She wished she didn’t feel so much identification with Millie, though; it was giving her flashbacks to her own school years. Recess and lunch, finding a spot to be alone, and then half wishing someone would find you.
“Bad that I can’t think of anything to say if it isn’t about books.” Millie looked crestfallen. “They want to talk about Pokémon or whatever, and I like Pokémon, but I don’t know all about them like I do about books.” She looked at Nina somewhat pleadingly. “It’s hard to find stuff to talk about sometimes. It gives me a tummy ache.”
“Well, we can talk about books whenever you like,” Nina said. “Do you think your mom would let you join a book club at the store? I have a whole group of girls your age who love all those books and lots more.” She remembered that Millie and Eliza lived in Malibu. “It’s a long way to come.”
Millie looked hopeful. “I can ask her.”
Archie added, “You can also ask the other kids questions; that’s what my mom told me, and I think it was good advice. Ask people if they have a dog, or if they like birds, or if they’re allergic to anything, or if they still believe in Santa Claus, or whatever pops into your head.”
“The only thing that pops into my head is books,” said Millie, worriedly. “And if I ask them a load of questions, they’ll think I’m even stranger than they already think I am. Last week a boy at school said I was weird, and nobody else said I wasn’t. Nobody said anything.” Her voice broke a little on the last word, and suddenly Nina was furious.
Trying to keep her voice calm, she asked, “What did he mean, weird?” She looked at Archie and saw he felt the same way.
Millie shrugged. “I don’t know. Weird. We had been talking about Aragog—you know,