Begin Again(67)

Valeria eases back in her chair like the idea of it has been weighing on her. “I know she is,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry, too. For making a big deal out of it.”

I shake my head. “It’s important to you. It’s not ‘making a big deal’ out of anything.”

She smiles appreciatively. “Thanks for saying that.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Of course.”

She leans forward again, her eyes so steady on my textbook that I’m certain she’s going to brush past it. “It’s weird,” she says instead. “I know you guys are close, so I just . . . was worried maybe you’d just stay close. Without me.”

So that’s it. For all the time I’ve been worried about fitting in here, it didn’t occur to me that someone who’s been here as long as Val might feel a degree of that, too. I wish I’d realized that sooner, before she had to wonder about us.

“Val. Of course not,” I say, reaching out to put my hand over hers. “The All-Knighters are a team. One for all and all for whatever fried-potato situation Shay can scam from the back kitchens.”

I feel a twinge then for the sake of said team—as far as I know, I’m the only one who knows Milo might be on his way out. But I push the thought aside, focusing on Valeria.

This time her close-lipped smile is deeper and more genuine, puckering the dimple on one of her cheeks. “You’re right. I’ll, uh—I’ll be there, then.”

I give her a beat, but not enough of one to let her shift from feelings to math. “I feel like I have to ask,” I venture carefully. “You want to be a published writer someday, right?”

Valeria sucks in a shaky breath. “I mean, yeah.”

I tilt my head at her. “So what’s the plan then?”

I’m expecting her to hesitate, because she isn’t sure of either the plan or whether she wants to tell me, but instead she seems to relax in her seat. When she speaks, it’s with so much resolve that I can see the vision taking shape in my own head.

“A pen name, is what I’m thinking. My middle name’s Beatrice. It’s my grandma’s, and she—well, she was the one who introduced me to romance novels in the first place,” says Valeria, a smile playing at her lips. “I like the idea of it. Using her name so she’d know how much it meant to me, but also so I could still hold a day job in something else without the Google search for my name skewing in one direction or the other.”

I frown, not sure how to interpret this. “Plenty of people hold day jobs and write romance. It’s not anything to be ashamed of.”

“Oh, I’m not,” says Val, with more confidence now. “I just . . . it’s not shame at all. It’s just that the things I write? They’re mine. They’re just mine. And I like the idea of sharing them to the degree that people can read them one day. But not the idea of losing the part of them that’s for me, you know?”

I nod slowly, the understanding starting to settle in, even if it’s not coming with anything all that helpful to respond with yet.

“I think if it were so public—if it were my actual full name on a book one day, and I had to go out into the world and speak on its behalf as myself—I don’t know. It would feel less like it belonged to me.” Valeria runs a hand through her hair. “I’m not making sense. I know.”

“No, you are. I mean—I’m anonymous, too. I get it.”

Just as I’m saying it, though, I realize that I don’t get it at all. I’m anonymous right now, but it’s not out of wanting to keep the advice on the old “Bed of Roses” column or even The Knights’ Watch to myself, the way Valeria holds her work close to her heart. For me, that distance I put in place is something else. For me, it’s fear.

I shift in my seat, tucking that worry away for later, then lean in close to meet Valeria’s eye.

“Either way, I think it’s clear you have a bright future in writing ahead of you. Shay says people loved it so much that they got a record number of readers emailing asking where they can get the rest.”

Valeria flushes so red I’m almost worried about her cheeks. “I’m glad people are enjoying it.”

I nudge her foot under the table. “Well. Get used to it, Beatrice.”

And it’s only then, when I’m saying the name myself, that it taps into some recess of my brain. Beatrice. Bea. As in the caller a few weeks ago who was torn between an ex trying to make things work and a new crush they vibed with. Valeria definitely has feelings for Shay, too.

Up until now I’d been holding back on any concrete meddling—Shay may have asked for my help, but I haven’t felt out Valeria yet, so I wasn’t sure whether to make a move. But just like that, Operation Help Val And Shay Find True Love is a go, along with an idea inspired by the conversation I had with this morning’s caller.

“Hey,” I ask on our way out after we finish tutoring, “you got any plans for tomorrow?”

Maybe it’s testing my luck. I’ve only just managed to convince Val to come to trivia with me. But I know full well that she and Shay will blurt apologies to each other and we’ll all go back to eating potato skins and yelling out answers to stuff like “Who was the second Sailor Scout found in Sailor Moon?” like nothing happened. I’ve got an opening here to see if Shay and Val might actually want something more than friendship, and I’m not about to let it go.