Page 88 of Not in My Book

“So you must know that boy who’s bullying my daughter?” Dad demanded, sitting next to Mom on the couch.

I guffawed. “I wouldn’t saybullying.”

“You told us the boy who was picking on you last year is in your class this year, too, right?” Mom asked.

Maria smothered a laugh and looked toward us expectantly.

“He is in our class,” Aiden spoke up. “Real jerk.”

“Aiden! ¿Por qué no haces algo? You know, Rosie and I read a lot of the same romance novels and she really likes the heroes who are a little overprotective—”

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” I cut her off, blushing.

“Rosie doesn’t need me to fight her battles,” Aiden said seriously. “She does a good job of taking care of him herself.”

“That’s my Rosie Posie,” my dad said.

“C’mon, give us more!” my mom said eagerly. “When did you two start dating? You were in class together, then what happened?”

Aiden looked at me and said, “You know, I should let Rosie tell it. She’s the romance expert.”

I laughed hollowly and said, “But, Aiden, you’ve been trying to start writing more romance. This is a good way to stretch your legs!”

My parents were watching us eagerly. I hated having to lie to them, but I’d rather face these awkward questions than have Aiden spend Christmas alone.

“Why don’t you both tell us?” Maria suggested, oh so helpfully.

I sent her a quick death glare before stuttering out, “Sure. I guess it all started in … class one day.”

I cringed and looked to Aiden for help; his lips turned up in a smirk.

“You know, I’ll just say it.I’mthe guy who was giving Rosie a hard time.” Maria mock gasped, but Aiden continued. “The truth is, I really liked Rosie, from the moment I saw her. And I’m … defensive I guess. I wanted to talk to her, and I didn’t know how because she … I mean, she’sRosie.Larger than life and so kind and confident. I was too scared to go right up and talk to her.” He shrugged. “And the only time I ever really was given the opportunity to talk to her was during workshop.

“I was hard on her, probably too hard, but I was trying to push her because—as I’m sure you know—she’s a great writer.” He turned to me and said, “But I really had to search. I had to look in between the lines because your stories made me wish I could give her that type of love—the kind she wanted and deserved.”

My mom was practically swooning at every word and I was, too. We had spent so much time in the liminal space of pretend—first as Maxine and Hunter and now, with my family. I wanted so badly to believe that this was all true, too.

So I took a chance and told the truth. “It was similar for me, too,” I said quietly, my eyes never leaving Aiden’s. “It was before we even had class together—Aiden was doing a reading at the Writer’s House. He read the mostdevastatingpiece, and it spoke to me so deeply that I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anyone but him. He read with such conviction and vulnerability that … I had this huge crush on him for so long.” Aiden’s head jerked back just a tad at this. “And then you know, he was mean to me, blah blah blah, but … somewhere along the way I guess we got to know each other and didn’t want to stop.”

I had thought maybe my feelings were too complicated for Aiden. I’d struggled between wanting him so much and being so scared when my heart sped up at the sight of him or at the low timbre of his voice. But now, as we sat in the living room of my apartment, the tangled web unraveled, and Iknewthat I wanted to risk being burned and broken for him.

“Howromantic,” my mom said. “I’m so glad we can all be together. Why don’t we start the movie?”

Maria and my parents got comfy on the couch, and Aiden and I sat on the floor in front of them, our arms folded over our knees. The five of us watched the movie in the dim light, eating cheap pasta. I caught Aiden’s gaze out of the corner of my eye and smiled softly at him. When he returned it, I knew this was better than any Christmas I’d ever had.

I never thought I’d want to be in a mess like this. One where I couldn’t sleep because I was imagining telling her how much I loved the freckle at the top of her ear, and how much I wanted to kiss it. But I’d give just about anything to stay here.

—Excerpt fromUntitledby Rosie Maxwell and Aiden Huntington

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“I can’t believe we missed midnight,” my mom said, agonized, when the movie ended. From the sound of her voice, you’d think we just told her Peru lost the World Cup. “We’re supposed to open the gifts at midnight.”

“It’s just thirty minutes after,” Aiden whispered to me. “What’s the big deal?”

“My mom really loves tradition. When she was a kid in Peru, they’d all count down until midnight and then tear open their gifts. We did that too sometimes, and I think that’s what she envisioned.”

“Ah.” Aiden’s tongue clicked in understanding.

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