Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(11)

Dev answered, instead. “Nah, we’re meeting up with some of the other guys there.” We reached the store and he waved in the direction of the field. “Stop by when you’re finished here, if you want.”

My hand froze on Oh, Knit!’s fancy brass doorknob. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.” I let my focus drift to the store’s big picture window of yarny goodness. In a few minutes, I’d be inside and I could just sink into the Manos display.

“It’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone. And I know you don’t have anything else today.” I was going to kill Alec later.

Dev was making weird faces behind Alec, puffing his cheeks out and bent over like he was using a walker.

I choked back a laugh. “You two are going to make me late for my class. Plus, you’re going to offend the not ancient customers.” I gestured at Dev, and Alec turned around, letting out a loud snort-y laugh.

Alec faced me again, but started backing away from the store. “Yes, Ms. Martins. See you at McCaffery field, then?”

“I’ll think about it.” I heaved a sigh of relief and slipped inside. It was such a comfort to drop back into my chair at the teaching table and bury my face in a display shawl that Cassandra, my boss, must have left there.

One of the store’s regulars reached over and patted my knee sympathetically. “Boyfriend?”

“God, no.” I tried not to look out and see if they were gone yet. “Two perpetual pains in the…” I looked up at her, and quickly checked myself, “…well, you know. They’re just friends.”

She gave me another soft pat and returned to her baby blanket. The rest of the class shuffled in and started chattering softly over the click of needles while waiting for me to pull myself together.

In my dramatic show-offyness, I apparently had disconnected a needle from its cable and now half of my demo shawl was off the needles and threatening to unravel in my bag.

Frak.





6


“Hey.”

I jumped at the poke to my shoulder, accidentally closing my locker door on my hand in the process. “Ow.”

Dev came into my line of sight, an apologetic look on his face. He reached around me to reopen my locker. “Sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay.” I examined my poor finger as it started turning an angry shade of purple-y red—of course it had to be in the perfect spot to get hit by the lock. “It’s my left hand, anyway. Not like I need it to knit or anything.”

“I guess that won’t earn me sock points, will it?”

I snorted, forgetting the stinging pain in my knuckle for a second. “You’re right. I think I’ll have to bump you to the bottom of my knitworthy list thanks to this.”

“Which means I wasn’t at the bottom before?”

“Nope. Osoba was last for making nonmarchers like me play in the stands in below-freezing weather.” I turned back to my locker to pull out the notebook I had been going for before almost losing my finger. A spare knitting needle started to roll off the top shelf, but I shoved it back into place and slowly closed the door.

“How does you slamming your finger in your locker get me lower than Osoba making you a piccolo popsicle?”

I turned back to face him and tilted my shoulder in a half-shrug. “Because you’re special that way?”

“I’ll just have to work harder to get on your good side, then.” He grinned at me, then nodded at someone who called to him from down the hallway. “Anyway, Em said you might be able to help me find a copy of The Phantom of the Opera—the book, not the musical. Someone checked out the only copy in our library.”

“Em makes me sound like some sort of underground book dealer.” I twisted my lips into a wry grin and added, “But this time, she’s right. I can lend you my copy.”

“That would be awesome.” Whoever it was called him again and he waved. “Sorry, I have to go, but you’re the best, Phoebe.”

“Tomorrow morning, atrium. I’ll bring the goods.” I cringed at how stupid I sounded.

“Good, I’ll be there. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I said to his back as he made his way down the hall to his friend.

Em came up beside me, Wilhelm-the-exchange-student behind her. “What was that all about?”

I blinked up at Em’s new German shadow. Apparently, she’d caught his attention for longer than just the dance.

“Um, hi, Wilhelm,” I said, then rubbed at my sore knuckle and shrugged. “Nothing. He just wants to borrow a book.”

“He asked for a copy of Phantom?” she asked, eyebrows quirked slightly upwards as she switched back and forth between studying me and watching Dev move through the crowd.

Ignoring whatever she was trying to get at with her notso-subtle looks, I said, “Yeah. I’m lending him mine. I don’t need it right now.”

A cat-that-caught-the-mouse smile spread across Em’s face. “But he can get Phantom online.”

I did the mental math—she was right, it was in the public domain. “But maybe he wanted an actual copy.”

“Mmmmhmmm.” That smile grew wider and she leaned against Wilhelm, arms crossed, looking totally self-satisfied.