Bookish and the Beast (Once Upon a Con #3)(20)

For the record, everything in this town is no more than ten minutes away.

I’ve lived in this small town for my entire life. It isn’t tiny—we have a movie theater and a (slightly dilapidated) shopping mall and a few big-chain grocery stores and a Walmart. It sits on the side of a lake, along with three other towns, so it attracts an array of millionaires to the area looking for a quiet, reserved place to plant their roots. Before I was born, Dad and Mom moved here, and he stayed at home with me while Mom went to work at a nuclear site about an hour away. She was smart in ways I can never be. She could spin numbers as if they were magic, but what she loved most of all were words. She loved reading them, collecting them, coveting them. When she died a year ago, the medical and funeral costs ate up most of our savings. We had to sell the house on the lake, and Dad’s favorite Fender guitar, and finally—tragically—the collection of Starfield novels she loved so much.

After that, Dad and I hopped from apartment to apartment. He took a job at the county library as the head Youth Services coordinator. He’s been there ever since, and Quinn, Annie, and I have spent more time in the library than anywhere else in the world. We know every nook and cranny, and almost all of the patrons—most of whom are older and walk from the retirement facility across the street—know our names.

Dad’s sitting on the edge of the Youth Services desk when we come in, flipping through a new picture book for the stacks. He glances up over his Harry Potter–esque glasses and smiles at us.

“There are my troublemakers!” he announces, standing up. “Annie, you won’t believe your luck!”

She gasps. “It came in?!”

He rustles around under the counter and then triumphantly holds up a golden tome. “It came in!”

“Yes!” she crows, throwing her hands into the air. She’s been waiting for the last book in that trashy fantasy series for the better half of two months, and honestly both Quinn and I are happy that she can stop bugging us about “evading spoilers” now. “You are the greatest gift to mankind, Space Dad.”

“I try,” Dad replies, playing along, because God forbid he puts a stop to this madness. Then he snaps his fingers and points to Quinn. “Speaking of which! I think I found a book for you, too.”

“Spare me the agony,” they deadpan in reply.

He laughs, pushing his chair over toward the computer, and rustles around under a stack of papers. He pulls out a book. “It’s about the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum heist. I know you like stuff like that.”

Quinn’s eyes go wide. “You are amazing.”

“I try,” he replies pleasantly.

Annie opens her golden tome and inhales heavily. “Ah, the sweet, sweet smell of germs and page rot and smut. But I cannot be derailed!” She closes her book and shoves it under her arm. “Space Dad, we have a question.”

“A few questions,” Quinn agrees.

“Too many questions—you don’t have to answer them all,” I add, pleading, as Annie presents him with the plan and the now notorious list. He reads through it, scratching at the stubble on his chin.

When he gets to number ten, he hands the list back and says, “I think it’s doable.”

“Do you think you can help us?” Quinn asks.

I try to give Dad the please say no glare. I’m not sure if he just doesn’t notice it, or if he knowingly avoids it, but he nods solemnly. “I think I can show you the light, young Padawans. Win Homecoming, you will. Obtain crown, you must.”

“Boo-yah!” Annie and Quinn high-five each other.

I lean away from them, glancing up at the clock. It’s 3:30 p.m., and it’ll only take a few minutes to get over to the castle-house, but I don’t see myself being of any more use here. I inch away from my best friends. “I think I’m going to get a head start to my new, um, work.”

Dad gives me a somewhat nervous look. “You know, you really don’t have to—”

“I know,” I interrupt. “It’ll be fine, Dad.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind…”

“I love you over nine thousand.” I kiss him on the cheek, grab one of the candies off his desk, and leave my best friends to start planning with my dad. If anyone can help them win Homecoming, it’s quite possibly the coolest guy I know.

I’ll never admit it to his face, though.





I BITE MY THUMBNAIL, lying sprawled out on my bed, as I consider my choices.

You are torn between going to the hot tub with Maverick or seeing if Tiffany is okay. Tiffany looked very distraught, but you know this is probably the only alone time you’ll get with Maverick…

→ Tiffany’s fine, I need to talk with Maverick about the selection coming up!

→ I’ll find alone time with Maverick later, I need to be there for Tiffany.



Honestly, Tiffany has been a total asshole to me this entire game, so why should I go see if she’s okay? Sure, her father’s been in the hospital and she was just called to the producer’s room, but it can’t be anything that bad. And even if it is, do I really want to sacrifice my one chance to be alone with Maverick?

Hell no.

I’m about to select Maverick when my phone vibrates and cancels out of the app. I read the caller ID and quickly silence the call.