Austentatious

“Good for you,” I said, smiling. I stood, reached down to help him to his feet, and decided to take my chances with one final question.

“Did your sister ever mention the journal’s original owner?”

“Nope. Only said she was lucky that little book had found its way to her.”

I nodded and reached to shake his hand. “Well, thank you so much for your time, Mr. Nelson. Evidently I have some reading to do,” I said, winking.

“I don’t pretend to understand how that diary works its magic, but I’m convinced that it’s well-meant. That said, my advice to you, young lady, is to take any advice with a grain of salt. You’re the one that has to live with your decisions.” He gave my shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Now if you come back, I’ll teach you how to play Mexican Train,” he said, nodding.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, giving him a little salute before turning away. My real life was calling.

I was cutting it close and luckily missed much of Austin’s horrific rush-hour traffic. And before succumbing to what would likely prove to be a thirty-hanger pile-up in my bedroom as I prepped for tonight’s date, I was dead set determined on reading the bit of journaling that had resulted in a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies with Raisinettes.

I never thought I’d be reading my sister’s diary. Then again, there’s not much left of her musings. Not sure I could have stomached the original. She was gone for a long time, half a world away from central Texas, and I wish I’d had a chance to catch up a little before she died. Cat had a good head on her shoulders, despite what some folks thought after she left Tyler behind to get on with her own life. I only regret that she never came back. Seems as though her life kept her busy—and happy—and for that, I’m thankful. I’m relieved that she lived such a full life, far away from small-town judgment and other folks’ expectations—I hope she found what she was looking for. I know she treasured this diary and its peculiar brand of companionship through the years, and I’m thankful to have it in my possession. Reminds me of her spunk.

E. Nelson 01.12.10

Well, obviously I didn’t know exactly what Fairy Jane’s advice had been, but I suspected something like, look for companionship and spunk in 112. Crafty, very crafty. And it looked as if things were progressing very well indeed if the cookies and movie night were any indication. Nicely done, Fairy Jane.

I was now perilously close to running late for my date with Sean, and I didn’t have even a little time to obsess over what to wear. I resigned myself to calling for backup. I tried Beck first, but the call rolled over to voice mail, forcing me to fall back on a very dubious second choice.

“I can’t decide what to wear,” I whined to Gabe.

“Not really my area of expertise.”

“Are South by Southwest festival goers usually dolled up or grunged down?”

“It’s Austin—there’s a mix of both. Some are even half and half.”

The man had a point.

“So jeans are okay, not too casual?”

“I plan to wear jeans.”

How to say this ... “I’m talking about other people—stylish people.”

“You know, you called me.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” I assured him. “How about jeans, a shirt with some shimmer, and a nice fitted jacket?” All three items were currently in my field of vision, hanging off or draped over some piece of furniture, the jacket having been shrugged off the minute I got home.

“That’ll work. Just relax, Nic, or you’ll look like a tourist.”

I didn’t bother mentioning that as far as tonight went, I was pretty damn close.

“Okay, thanks.” Deep breath. Good.

“Have fun,” he said.

Within ten minutes of hanging up, I’d scrambled into my outfit for the evening, added a sparkly belt and some earrings, and even gone a little crazy with the hair gel, scrunching my hair into what I hoped was a slightly edgier look. One final mirror check—oops! a daisy! Sliding the slightly wilty stem from my button hole, skimming my fingers along the petals, I dipped my face once again into its cheery red center and inhaled the swoony scent of a bad crush. It definitely stayed here.

As I skidded out the door, it occurred to me that I’d managed to go the entire day without Fairy Jane running interference. The little burst of confidence and my smug little smile didn’t last, though, because it was still anybody’s game. The day was far from over yet.

Sean, of course, was waiting, and I was left to wonder how a girl who prided herself on punctuality could suddenly be late for pretty much absolutely everything. A couple waves of the wand could help with that—green lights, convenient parking ... Maybe I could put in a request.

As I got close, I raised my hand and offered up a friendly wave, but the second I was within reach, Sean snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me in for a couple of quick, very heated kisses. When he pulled back and skimmed his fingers through my daring ’do, my eyes were drawn up to the Paramount’s Old Hollywood–style marquee, its glamorous brilliance setting off flashbulbs in my head.

“I like the dangerous new you,” Sean informed me, sliding a festival wristband into place on my arm. I was relieved to see that he’d dressed casually as well in beige corduroys and a chocolate brown sweater.

“It’s sort of a special occasion,” I confided. “Eight years in Austin, and this is my first visit to the Paramount Theater, my first time at a South by Southwest venue of any sort.”

“Well then, I am at your service, my little Virgin Queen,” he teased, bowing low, his wicked grin making me think seriously about sexual favors.

And then suddenly I was on the red carpet. Admittedly it was a red carpet in Austin, Texas, where cowboy boots are paired with just about anything and pretty much no one is anyone—or everyone is someone—but still. My eyes were flitting about like hummingbirds, and my fingers were tightly twined with Sean’s as I rode the wave of jabbering festival goers.

In the middle of it all, Sean dipped his head down beside mine, his breath feathering hot against my chilly ear.

“Dodge out of work tomorrow and come ’round the city with me.”

A shiver ran through me as I imagined the thrill of playing hooky with Sean, seeing the city through the eyes of a “cool kid.” But it was quickly squelched. I couldn’t just take off without warning—I was the Go-To Girl.

“Very tempting, but I have to work.”

A Hummer limo pulled up in front of the theater, and I craned my head to catch a glimpse of its occupants.

“Do you really?” Sean pressed, evidently unconcerned with the arrival of the stars. “Is it an absolute must or just habit?”

My gaze shifted to meet his, and I felt as if I’d been caught in a lie. Sean’s gaze was patiently challenging, as if waiting for everything to click in my head.

“No, I really do.” Of course I did—it was a Wednesday. I couldn’t just randomly not show up on a Wednesday. My face scrunched with uncertainty. Could I? I turned back to the Hummer, forced to squint against the onslaught of flashbulbs, and tried to consider this unfamiliar alternative.

“We could come up with a proper itinerary and everything.” He lifted his hand to settle on the back of my neck, squeezing gently. “Has no one ever taught you to snatch at opportunities when you can, before they disappear?” Sean murmured.

Those particular words served as the necessary inducement. I suddenly felt a feverish need to race the clock, to make every second of this temporary romance count, knowing that it would, inevitably, come to an end. “Okay.” The word just ripped out of me before I could snatch it back, and the inherent hesitancy was just hanging in the air between us. I couldn’t seem to stop the flood of stilted sentences that followed. “Definitely. I’ll take the day off. Wednesday. Hump day. I need a break anyway.”

“I must be even more charming than I imagined to lure the dedicated Nicola James away from the office on a random Wednesday. This definitely calls for a celebration, a toast to tomorrow’s adventures. But being short on