I pull into the Pages & Prose parking lot for the second time today, but it’s dark now. The store name is lit brightly and fairy lights twinkle in the trees. It adds to the sense that tonight is a special occasion. I dry sweaty palms on my jeans and try to psych myself up. I’m going to have a great time! Immediately, I regret my choice of words.
“Great” has been our little buzzword this week. Garrett’s and mine. Along with “giggler,” which is how he likes to refer to Bryan and “jiggler,” which is how I like to refer to the girls I’ve seen hanging all over him.
Has something happened to the world’s supply of bras?
Each time I’ve passed him in the halls—which has been a surprisingly large number of times—he’s had some girl with him. Cassie once. Steph once. Annette twice. Two girls I didn’t know. Funny how he has so many friends who are all pretty girls.
My whole body is tense again just thinking about him. I let out a long breath and “gather my calm,” as Mom would say.
Once I’m out of the truck, I give myself a critical once-over. I have no idea what people wear to an author presentation. I borrowed one of Mom’s flowy blouses to pair with my favorite skinny jeans. My hair is down and I’ve done up my face for a change, not that I think Bryan is shallow enough to only care about looks. Not like some people who I’m not thinking about.
Bryan is waiting for me by the front doors. He’s dressed the same as I see him every day, but I still find myself looking at him differently. He’s not smart, nerdy, book-loving, origami-making Bryan. He’s Bryan, my date. (I really need to come up with a new nickname for him.)
He hands me another origami made of purple and brown paper and folded into a…into a… I turn it over in my palm. I’m not sure which way is up, so I keep turning it. “Wow,” I say. “This is…” I blink at him. “Thank you.”
He looks from the origami to me, and I know I should say something else. But I have zero idea what it is, other than an oval blob with three possible ears. Or tails. Or snouts.
He saves the awkward pause from getting any worse. “You look really nice.”
I smile. “Better than the dino costume?”
“A close second.” He pulls open the door and gestures me in with a flourish of one hand. “Shall we? I saved us two seats up close.”
There are around forty people in folding chairs. The author, a woman with spiky hair and red glasses, is sipping water behind a podium. Bryan’s hand skims my back as he leads me to our chairs. It’s nice. He’s nice.
I realize this is partly why I said yes. I want to stop thinking about Garrett. Feeling things for Garrett. I want to feel those things for Bryan—for someone I could actually have a future with.
I settle in as the author begins speaking. I’m not sure what to expect, but it’s pretty cool to hear how someone comes up with ideas and makes up an imaginary world. By the time it’s over, I’m already checking out the schedule for who else is coming. Mai would like the author of a book about global warming. And there’s a meditation expert Mom would enjoy. My gaze snags on the author of a series about mysteries in baseball stadiums. Nope. Not going there.
Purposefully, I step closer to Bryan. We’re in the line for an autograph and he smiles when I brush his arm. After the author signs the book, we head to the café and join the line waiting to order at the counter.
“What did she sign in your book?” I ask.
He shows me the title page. In black Sharpie she’s written: Pray for the power of plasma.
“I thought we lived in a scary world,” I say, “but I’m feeling much better about our planet now.”
Bryan grins. “I told you the book was a little out there.”
We get cookies and sodas and then look for an empty table. He points to a booth where a couple is getting up. “How about that one?”
Of course it’s the same table I sat in with Garrett. A ghostly image of him smirks at me from the bench.
I’m banishing you, Blondie!
“Perfect,” I tell Bryan.
We settle at the booth and I set my origami on the table. “It was cool that the book is about a different universe, but it sounds a lot like our own society. Like how they turned people into slaves with opioids.”
“That’s what I love about sci-fi,” he says. “It gives you a different world to look at, so you can see this one more clearly.”
I nod and smile because he’s so right and so…smart. How can I not like this guy? I reach for my drink and accidentally knock over the origami. “Oh. Sorry!” I set it right again.
“Actually, that’s upside down.”
Embarrassment floods through me. “It is?”
“It’s the spaceship from the book. I figured you would ask me about it.”
“Oh. Crap.” I smack a hand against my forehead. “I didn’t want to be rude, so I didn’t ask.”
He straightens the spaceship. “It’s okay. Origami is a new thing. My mind is always racing, and I read somewhere that it helps if you give your hands something to do.”
“Yeah? That makes sense. I should try it. It’s probably better than biting my nails.” I show him the evidence.
“What’s got you worried?”
“School. Finals. What I’m going to do with my life. The usual.”
He laughs.
“So what do you worry about?”
“School. Finals. What I’m going to do with my life.” His grin is sweet. “A first date.” He stretches his hands on the table. My hands are a few inches away, our cookies forgotten.
