Page 51 of Bookish Boys Don't Date Social Girls
“We could.” Ines squeezes my hands.
I lock eyes with Ines. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lincoln nod. But it’s her determination that buoys me.
“We could create a safe place for people to share their stories.” I’m suddenly desperate for confirmation. My eyes skim Ines and land on Lincoln. “We could. Couldn’t we? A place that people can log in to tell their stories and know they are safe and aren’t alone.”
“Sure. We can do that.” Lincoln squeezes my shoulder. “We’ll do whatever you need, Sam.”
“It isn’t what I need.” I shake my head and glance over my shoulder to my computer. “It’s what they need.”
“We’ll do it. We’ll find a way,” Lincoln says.
I grab them both into a hug again. But this time, my heart pounds fiercely from the task ahead and I’m crying happy tears.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You must walkuntil the music stops, Taylor!” I laugh at the boy who keeps pausing to look at me each time he steps onto a new card in the circle. The kids behind him are frustrated, so I shoo him along with my hand. He jogs to catch up to the kids in front of him and everybody else scurries as well. As soon as the kids are evenly spaced again, Tammy pauses the music.
I skim the question on the notecard I hold as Tammy reads hers out loud to the kids. “A story that is composed of facts and real-life events is called what?”
Half a dozen hands shoot into the air, and several kids grunt or hoot eagerly, hoping to be chosen. I scan their faces and choose the quietest girl who rarely tries to answer a question. “Callie.”
“Non-fiction?”
“Yes!” Tammy and I cry at the same time. I jog over to Callie and hand her a bookmark, then give her a high five. She beams at me.
“Okay, who is standing on the non-fiction card?” I ask. My gaze sweeps the circle as thekids look down at their feet.
“I am!” Latisha jumps up and down with excitement.
“Awesome!” I jog over to her and hand her a magnet that says, “Because…books!” with a messy bedroom in the background. We high-five as well. “Way to go, Latisha.”
Summer is coming to a close and I’m feeling unusually maudlin over having to say goodbye to these kids. Today is the last day the reading group meets. I bought a ton of these book-related gifts to give as prizes today, and the idea is that everybody should go home with several of them. So far, we’ve been lucky and different kids have been winning them. They all seem very motivated by the prizes, which makes me feel like a superstar.
The music starts again, so I step back to watch them walk the circle. I never would have expected to like middle school-aged kids so much, but I have had the time of my life helping this summer. Latisha made a couple of very good friends, and they both go to her school, so she will be able to continue to see them regularly.
And Tammy was right. I’ve learned a lot about literature. I’m far from an expert, but I don’t feel like an absolute novice anymore either.
The music turns off and the kids scramble to the nearest card. “Uh, uh, uh!” I say to two kids who are pushing each other to get on the same card. “Just share it!” They look at each other and laugh as they stand shoulder-to-shoulder so that they can each get a foot on the card. I snicker to myself. Kids can be so literal.
“Once upon a time,” Tammy says, “it was the princess's thirteenth birthday. She wore a blue dress to her party, and she got a new cell phone as a present.” The librarian scans all the eager faces. “What point of view is that story told in?”
I think the answer in my head before glancing at the card to make sure I’m correct. I grin and then scan the raised hands. Only three this time. “Lance?”
“Third person.”
“Yes!” Tammy and I celebrate together.
I run around the circle to give Lance a sticker that says, “Only the cool kids read.”
“Okay, who’s standing on the third person card?” I ask, even though I can already tell by the tiny girl hopping up and down waving her hand. “Lindsay?”
She nods eagerly, and I run a “Books Rule” backpack charm over to her. She’s still hopping up and down after she takes it. “Thank you, Sam. Thanks so much. This is so cool!”
We high five.
“I didn’t get a high five,” Lance says.
“Sorry!” I run back to him to resolve my error.
