Page 52 of Road Queens
“Cool.” The new girl had made that confession with the air of someone ... well, making a confession. Like it was a dark secret she didn’t want getting out. Maybe her folks didn’t like motorcycles? Why would they even care? You had to be sixteen to drive anything, and Cassandra was three years away from that. “I started saving a year ago for my own bookstore.”
“You have? That’s ...” Amanda saw Cassandra deciding which word to use. “... unusual.”
“I’m an Air Force brat. First place I find when we move is the library. And I can’t own my own library, obvs. So I want my own bookstore. One where anyone can come in and get all kinds of things.”
“That sounds—”
“Not just the stuff on the bestseller lists. Rare stuff like out-of-print mysteries and good coffee, and the coffee will be free. And I’ll put art by locals up on the walls, and there’ll be big soft armchairs to read in. And extra space for book clubs to meet, and a kids’ corner for story time.”
“Sounds like you’ve—”
“And I’ll give discounts to people who donate their used books, which I’ll turn around and donate to local schools. It’ll be a total safe space for anyone who crosses the threshold. And I’ve only got eighty thousand dollars to go.”
Cass waited, and when Amanda didn’t continue, replied, “That sounds awesome.”
“No, wait, my math is wrong.” She snapped her fingers. “The sweater! My mom offered to go in with me, so I only had to pay half price for a cashmere sweater. Cashmere, guys!”
“That gorgeous purple thing you were wearing last week?” Sidney asked. “Nice.”
“Yes. Worth it. I mean, I have to have clothes. So only seventy-nine thousand eight hundred dollars to go.”
“That’s a great goal,” Cass said. “But it sounds expensive. And hard. And expensive.”
“Well, yeah. It’s not much of a goal if it’s easy.”
“Point,” Cass conceded.
“Come on, my palm isn’t getting any less bloody and spitty.” And as Amanda and Cassandra fell into step on either side, Sidney continued. “So is it a white knight kink with you or did you have a score to settle with Manners or what? I’m not criticizing,” Sidney added, which was wholly out of character. “Just curious.”
Cassandra shook her head. “None of that. I just hate bullies.”
“I think that applies to everyone who isn’t one. Anyone ever say, ‘You know who I think are great? Bullies.’”
“No. I don’t mean dislike; I don’t mean I think they’re a pain. Ihatethem. I hate them the way people hate plague. I hate them like famine.”
Sidney blinked. “Listen, my folks are gonna lose their damn minds when I walk in the door all bandaged and shit. You wanna come over to my house after school? I could use a corroborating witness.”
“I—yeah. That’d be great. I’m Cassandra.”
“Yeah, I know,” Sidney replied. “New Girl from New York.”
“I’ll come too,” Amanda decided.
“You weren’t invited, but whatever.”
“So invite me, you grumpy bitch.” Which got Cassandra going, and her mouse-on-helium giggles were contagious. By the time they got to the nurse’s office, they were laughing so hard they were staggering like drunks.
It took Amanda a year to notice that Cassandra never invited either of them over, and another year to figure out why. But that was ...
CHAPTER TWENTY
“... embarrassing,” Sean asked, “given how smart you are?”
“... a story for another time.”
“Oh. Well, that works too.”
“I know it ‘works,’” she snapped. “Anyway, from such things—loogies, thermal conductivity,Cycle World’s February issue—lifetime friendships were forged. Well. Not lifetime, I guess.”
