Page 54 of Battle of the Bookstores

RJ.Reads:Would you ever be interested in meeting in real life?

He sent it late last night, but I haven’t figured out how to respond.

Georgia is sitting next to me, behind the counter at Tabula—but she’s working on something useful, a paper for class. Me? I’m freaking out.

I know it’s silly, but it’s almost like I forgot that RJ isn’t a fictional character. He’s a fully formed human with his own motivations and expectations. All I know of him is his avatar (a hand holding a small, leather-bound book) and his brief bio:Bookseller x 14 yrs. He/Him. Good endings matter.He could live anywhere in the country. He could be seventy years old or twenty. I’d bet money that we’re similar ages, though—within five or ten years—based on his word choices, abbreviations, and references. Somehow, that’s even more intimidating.

The thought of stepping out of the safety of our online world, of confronting the unpredictable reality of this individual I know nothing about—it terrifies me. What if I can’t be the person I am on the screen? What if I’m a disappointment? What ifheis?

BookshopGirl:Sorry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.

I press send and immediately regret it.

“What’s that look on your face?” Georgia asks, and I close my laptop.

“Nothing. How’s your paper coming?”

She leans back in her chair and sighs. “Stuff like this makes me wonder why I decided to go to grad school. Maybe you had the right idea—you figured out what you wanted to do and didn’t waste time in college.”

My muscles tighten. I never wanted to make Georgia feel guilty when none of it was her fault, so I’ve always told her it was my decision to leave college. And that I’ve never regretted it.

Georgia returns to her paper, and my mind drifts back to my conversation with RJ about this very thing. It’s like he helped me revise the story I’ve had in my mind all these years. My version isn’t gone, but he’s written in some edits, crossed out some lines, added an asterisk.

You showed strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

But if we met in real life, I’d know thatheknows the most secret, shameful parts of my past. It was hard enough to share that under the cover of anonymity; I’m not sure I can handle that level of vulnerability in person.

Still, I hate the thought of hurting his feelings, so I type a follow-up message.

BookshopGirl:Hi again. Just want to say that the last thing I want is to stop chatting with you here. But I’m going through some complicated stuff and I need the rest of my life to stay as uncomplicated as possible. Is it OK if we keep things the way they are?

It’s a cop-out, but it’s all I can do right now.

“Question,” I say to Georgia, wanting something else to focus on. “Could you cover for me when I go to IBNE? It’s the last weekend in August, and it’s in Boston this year.”

The Independent Booksellers of New England conference is one of my favorite events of the year—a chance to mingle with colleagues, meet publishers, and learn more about industry trends. I submitted an application to be on a panel—I’ve applied for the past three years but haven’t ever made it. It’s a huge honor to be chosen, and another one of my life goals.

“You mean I-BONE?” Georgia says, grinning. “Sure. Happy to.”

I roll my eyes, smiling. “I won’t be boning anyone, sorry.”

Although it’s true a significant amount of hooking up does happen—hence the nickname. Bring a bunch of socially awkward book nerds together, add free books and a bar, and sparks fly.

“Why not?” Georgia says. “You deserve a hot one-night stand with a brawny bibliophile.”

Laughing, I shake my head, but my brain takes this opportunity to remind me of something:Ryan will probably be at IBNE.

Not that we’ll be boning. Not that I evenwantto bone him (my inconvenient attraction to him notwithstanding). But after he helped save my books the other day, I thought we had a moment, a breakthrough; that maybe we could set down our weapons and figure out how to be civil to each other.

Except he reacted so bizarrely to seeing I was readingThe Princess Bride.

Compounding my confusion is the fact that he did another nice thing: bringing a customer over and hand-selling one of my books. The man ended up buying four other titles, too—a huge sale. It’s such a switch from our prior interactions that I can’t help wondering why.

Xander’s voice echoes in my mind:Unfortunately, you’re slightly behind Ryan.

Ryan must know that, too. Does he feel bad for me now? Does he want to prove that he’s a “good guy” as he crushes me?

Unless he actuallyisa good guy?

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