Begin Again(54)

Shay leans in for a quick hug, easily more familiar with Valeria than I am by now. The All-Knighters have started grabbing the occasional coffee and hanging out outside of trivia, but the two of them both read so fast they meet up to swap books several times a week. They’ve even done reading sprints at that crepe place my dad talked about, enough times that Shay has more than a few Nutella-stained cardigans to show for it.

“The lit mag meeting should only last an hour or so,” says Shay, glancing at the cluster of armchairs where her other friends are starting to assemble. “What time do you guys finish?”

“Right about then, too. Want to grab pre-trivia dinner after we all wrap up?” Before Shay answers, Valeria reaches up and strokes the rosy-orange chunky knit scarf Shay’s sister made her. “Ooh, I love this. So soft.”

“Thanks,” says Shay. “The, uh—the glitter eyeshadow you have on. It’s really cute.”

Valeria smiles that full cover-girl smile of hers. “I’ll bring it to next week’s trivia so you can try it.”

“Sweet.” Shay presses a hand to her scarf in the same place Valeria touched it. “And yeah, dinner sounds great. I’ll come find you.”

I bite down a smile as we settle in our respective library corners. Every now and then Valeria and Shay seem to go on a mutual compliment train that nearly veers off the tracks, and I can’t help wondering if there’s more to it than that.

Alas, any secondhand joy I might have felt at the idea of that gets immediately squashed by math.

“You got stumped by that kind of problem last time, too,” says Valeria when I’ve reached an impasse where my brain simply doesn’t know what to do next. “Did you ever end up going to the TA’s office hours?”

I bite my lip.

“Andie,” says Valeria, her tone chastising.

“I know, I know.” I don’t bother to make excuses about the ribbon hunt or prepping for The Knights’ Watch. They’re all getting old. “But I think the midterm went okay, at least.”

We both stare back down, me frowning at a problem I haven’t mastered, but Valeria going eerily still. I glance up at her in surprise, wondering if she’s really that upset about me bailing on the TA. Then I follow her narrowed eyes across the room, toward the literary magazine meeting. There’s a student at the podium holding this month’s edition, beaming at the small gathered group.

“If nobody else wants to read from the excerpt of Kingdom of Lumarin—a working title, I’m told—I’ll go ahead and read it,” she says. “But I do hope whoever wrote it comes forward! It is such a phenomenal writing sample, we were so excited to publish it in this month’s edition.”

I turn my gaze to Shay, whose eyes are wide enough to serve bagels on. But then we both tear our eyes back over to the podium as the student begins to read.

“The night of Prince Colton’s ball was the very same night the witch’s prophecy came true,” she narrates, the lit club group listening with rapt attention. “I was meant to be finishing up the final touches on my gown. Instead I was scraping spectre guts off my mother’s vanity.”

By the first paragraph of the excerpt, Valeria has already gathered up all her books and shoved them into a bag. I quietly follow suit, trying not to cringe as it becomes abundantly clear that whatever’s happening here, it’s the last thing Valeria wanted. I try to make eye contact with her, but her lips form a tight line and her eyes are staring holes into the floor, determined not to let me.

Toward the end of the reading, Valeria rises abruptly to her feet. Shay and I both follow, meeting her at the entryway. People are applauding, but all I hear is Valeria addressing us through her teeth.

“Outside,” she says. “Now.”

Despite the heels on Valeria’s knee-high boots, Shay and I can barely keep up with her as she stalks out of the library and down the front steps, leading us to one of the giant trees on the path just outside it. Before we even fully stop, Valeria whips around and finally meets my eye.

“Andie, what were you thinking?”

I blink. “Huh?”

“You submitted my personal writing to the school literary magazine?”

I raise my hands up like some kind of surrender. “Heck no.”

Valeria’s lip wobbles, clearly reluctant to continue accusing me but unsure what else to do. “But you were so fixated on me figuring out the ending. Who else would—”

“I did it,” says Shay.

This knocks all the hurt right off Valeria’s face. When she turns to Shay, her voice is quiet with disbelief.

“You did?”

Shay nods slowly, her eyes searching Valeria’s like she’s trying to find a foothold. “I didn’t think they’d publish it. Usually they run it past the writer first, let them pick a stock photo to go with it. But I submitted it without a name, so I guess they just went for it.”

Valeria looks down at the ground, her fingers clenching at her sides. I take a small step back, unsure which would be the worse move: ducking out and leaving the two of them on their own, or standing here and witnessing something I’m not sure they want me here for. But then when Shay opens her mouth to speak again, she looks at me first, the “please stay” clear enough to root me in place.

“The plan was to run it past you if they wanted it, so you could think about it,” says Shay. “So you’d see people actually want to read it.”