Page 17 of A Flash of Neon
“I don’t know where most of those places are, but they sound extremely glamorous.” He swings his arm round my shoulders. “You can’t be my manager, though. You’ll be too busy performing with me.”
“What do you mean, performing?” Hannah stops walking and grabs my arm. “Laurie Rebecca Storey-Peters. Can you sing?”
I instantly wish the ground would swallow me up. “Nah, not really.”
“Lies!” Neon shouts. “She’s really good.Waybetter than me. Like, not quite Adele level or anything, but definitely good enough to be one of Adele’s backing singers.”
Beside me, Caitlin’s face has fallen. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell us?”
When we first became friends, Caitlin and Hannah had already joined their musical-theatre class in Inverness and they talked about it alot. It was their thing, their identity. I felt as if there was no space for me to like singing too. It’s always that way with Caitlin, even with little things. Her favourite animal is the platypus, which was alwaysmyfavourite, but when I excitedly told her back in first year she looked so annoyed that I never brought it up again.
I shrug awkwardly. “It’s not a big deal. I basically only sing in the shower. The thought of performing in front of anyone who’s not my family is terrifying.”
Hannah claps her hands. “Ooh, you should sing together at Friday Showcase!”
Once a month, our school does something called Friday Showcase. It’s usually filled with the school choir, the Highland-dancing group and this fourth-year boy who’s a cello prodigy, but anyone can perform if they want to. Caitlin and Hannah have done it a couple of times. All you need do is add your name to the sign-up sheet at reception.
Once Hannah has explained what it is to Neon, his face lights up. “Let’s do it! That’s my last day. It would be the perfect way to say goodbye.”
“But Laurie’s so shy,” Caitlin says. “I really can’t see her doing that.”
For once, I don’t think Caitlin is trying to be mean. She’s actually trying to stop me from being pushed into something that I don’t want to do. But I’m so used to her criticising me that it makes me defensive. She doesn’t get to decide what I can and can’t do, what I can and can’t be.
“Maybe I will,” I say hotly. “Wait and see.”
I might be biased, but I genuinely think Every Book & Cranny is one of the best bookshops on the planet. The building used to be a church and lots of the features are still there: the domed roof, a few stained-glass windows, a wooden pulpit that my parents fitted with comfy seating so people can relax and read. They have all the big names and bestsellers, but they also stock loads of books by little-known authors or indie publishers and translations from all over the world. It might not bring in as many customers as bigger shops, but those it does have are very loyal – a few make the trip up here from different parts of the country every year to see Mum’s latest additions to the shelves.
Neon and I head to the shop after school on Tuesday. I’ve been putting off taking him there – it feels like Mum or Mutti could jump out from behind a bookcase at any moment, even though I know they’re currently miles away. But Neon’s desperate to see it, and deep down I want to show it off too.
Gio is standing behind the counter when we come in. Hearing the bell on the door jingle, he looks up and gives us a big wave. “My favourite co-worker! Don’t tell your brother I said that.”
“Hey, Gio.” It’s been a while since I saw him and the sight of his shiny bald head and twirly moustache makes me smile. “How’s business?”
“A bit slow. We had a good group of people in at lunchtime, but hardly anyone since then. I sent Joel home at three. No point in us both being here, and it sounds like he’s busy with uni work.” He smiles at Neon. “I don’t think I know your friend.”
“This is Neon,” I say. “He’s from New York. Neon, this is Gio.”
Gio is from Bergamo in Italy. He wandered into the shop while he was on holiday in Scotland six years ago, saw the ad looking for a general manager that Mum had posted up on the corkboard by the door, and ended up uprooting his whole life to stay and run the place. He’s like an uncle to me and Joel now. He comes over for dinner once a fortnight, and he spent a few Christmases with us during the pandemic, when he wasn’t able to go back to Italy.
“Neon! What an interesting name.” Gio holds out his hand to shake Neon’s. It seems Joel hasn’t told him about our visitor, which is a relief – Gio is great but he would definitely report back to Mum and Mutti if he knew there was a strange boy staying at our house. “So you’ve moved over here?”
“Uh, no, I’m only visiting. Heading home on Saturday.” Neon smiles. “I really like it here, though! Everyone’s so friendly, and I love how green everything is. I wish I could stay longer.”
Gio smiles. “I know what you mean. This place drew me in too, and it hasn’t let me go yet.”
A customer comes in then and asks Gio about a thriller that’s due to be published next week, so Neon and I go wandering through the bookcases. We have three shelves dedicated to staff recommendations, and there are a few of my cards up: the first part of a Norwegian fantasy trilogy, three graphic novels and a YA book about a boy band who are secretly sea monsters.
“Have you met characters from any of these?” I whisper to Neon, glancing at Gio to make sure he’s still busy. “They’re all in the Realm, right?”
“Yeah, of course. I recognise a few of them.”
Neon reaches for a copy ofShadows of the Sea, the YA novel. Tilly is always posting about it online, so I eventually read it a few months ago. I liked it so much that I had to write a card for it.
“Callan and I hang out sometimes,” he says, tapping the picture of a boy with bright blue skin on the front cover.
“No way!” I instantly wish I could tell Tilly. She’d lose her mind. “But he’s so awful!”
Neon laughs. “He is but he’s hilarious too.”
