The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,159

can have signings here, too. Like the ones at Murder By The Book.”

“Yes, that would be great…” She sighs and trails her fingers over the spines of the books, her eyes dreamy as she gazes at them. “Books are magic, aren’t they?”

“The only kind I’ve ever known,” I agree. Our eyes meet and we grin, big silly grins that we call our “bookworm grin.” She twirls in the aisle; her dark hair flies out around her. I’ve never seen her so light.

“So, people came by? Excited people? Or people like that the Wilde lady who thinks she’s Queen Elizabeth, and this is England?” She doesn’t have the venom in her voice that she used to when she talked about Mrs. Wilde. I’m glad she’s letting it go. I wish I could.

She flops into one of the two chairs we’ve put in the bay window’s reading nook.

I sit down across from her, let the fading sunlight that’s flooding into the window warm me.

“A little of both. But mostly excited people. You know… book people, who can’t wait for us to open so they can get their fix daily.”

“And what did the rest want? To warn us to keep our evil vaginas away from their husband’s and sons?” This place, it could be home.

“Basically.” We share a laugh and the tension that was building dissipates. She has bad memories of the time we were here. Mrs. Wilde’s treatment of her was the first in a series of events that started her spiral downward and eventually put her in jail. She’s trying so hard to make up for the early years of my life. I know coming to live in Rivers Wilde wasn’t ever on her list of things to do, but we’re making the most of it.

“I hope you’re happy here, Lee…” she begins to ask me the question she always asks.

“I am happy.” I give the answer the way I always do.

This time, it doesn’t feel like such a burden on my lips. “I made a friend today,” I add and can’t stop the smile I feel when I think about the ridiculously handsome, charming boy who was as nice as I remembered.

“Oh, I’m so glad, what’s her name?” She smiles lazily over at me.

“We’re going to Murder by The Book together tonight,” I respond and evade her question.

She sits up a little straighter and looks at me skeptically. “I hope this friend of yours has herself a car. I can’t take you all the way to Rice Village tonight and you’re not riding your bike either.”

“I’m not riding my bike—”

“You need to buckle down and get your license, though, honey. You’re the only seventeen-year-old in this entire city that doesn’t drive.” She wags her finger at me.

“That’s not true. I am working on it. I just… don’t know. I like riding my bike.”

I drop my eyes to the frayed hem of my shorts so I can pretend what I’m about to say isn’t a big deal. “Anyway, it’s fine. My friend has a car. He’s coming to get me at seven.”

“Oh.” She sounds surprised and curious. “And, who would he be?” She raises her eyebrows expectantly. I try to keep the nerves fluttering in my stomach off my face and say as casually as I can, “Um… His name is Remi. He was in here the other day making a delivery.”

“Oh, Kal… please don’t tell me you mean Remi Wilde,” she shouts.

“Why are you yelling?” I ask, raising my own voice.

“Because he’s a Wilde. Don’t you remember how his mother treated us? They don’t like us.”

“Well, he likes me. He’s nice,” I say. I hear how defensive I sound, but it’s because I know what’s coming.

She walks over, her face pinched with worry and my stomach knots as I wait for the lecture.

“Listen to me. I know you grew up watching me do certain… things. But I don’t want all of my mistakes and the way I’ve paid for them to have been for nothing.”

“Mom, we’re just going to a bookstore,” I protest

She cups my face in her hands and searches it with those green eyes I used to covet. “You’re a good girl. But so was I. I can tell you nothing changes that faster than men with sexy smiles and fancy cars. Women in our family, those kind of men are our downfall. It’s in our DNA.” She smiles wistfully and strokes my cheeks with her thumbs.

I pull out of her grasp. “It’s not like that. He’s not