Page 1 of Bookworm

CHAPTER 1

Happiness is a choice.

I was pretty sure I read that somewhere on a fortune cookie.

The cookie was both right and wrong. Sometimes it was a choice, but happiness could also be a person or a place or even a book.

That last one was where I most often found my happy.

To me, books were these little pieces of magic created by author-magicians for the purpose of making the world a better place. They created these worlds we could escape to when things got rough, places of refuge, safe spaces to breathe, feel, and imagine. I firmly believed there was aperfect book for everyone.

Even the morose child standing in front of me.

"Hi, I'm Charlotte," I said with a smile."Welcome to the Chariot Public Library. What do you like to read?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Nothing. I hate reading."

"You do?"

"Yes, and I hate you."

"Can I ask why?" I said. "We just met."

She shrugged."You smile too much."

"Sorry, I can try and tone it down. Is this better?"

"Ugh, it's worse, and this is a totalwaste of time." She turned her eyes up to her mother. "I'm going back out to the car."

"But Darlene—"

"It's Darkling," the girl cut in."I've told you that a thousand times, Evelyn."

Her mom winced but gavea forced smile. "I know you don't like your name, honey. But I told you before. I am not calling you that.And it's 'Mom', not Evelyn."

The girl sighed, her gaze moving back to her phone.

Her mom glanced over to me and spoke, the plea clear in her voice. "Can you please recommend something?I just don't understand it," she said. "At her age, Iloved reading. I could devour a book a day. I'm not expecting it to go that far, butI have got to get her off that phone."

The young girl continued typing away.

"Sure, can you tell me a little about her likes and dislikes?" I asked then shot herdaughter a wink. "Besides me, of course."

I had to give her credit. The girl had one heck of an eyeroll.

Her mom laid it out for me quickly:

Darlene (AKA Darkling)

12 years old (going on 20)

Favorite color: black; favorite TV show: anything with action, mystery, and/or a supernatural element; favorite book: none; favorite pastime: texting; least favorite pastime: reading (obviously).

Okay, so it wasn't a lot to go on. But I also gathered a few things from observation. As the girl texted, every now and then she'd get a little smile on her face, which meant she might have acrush. I also noticed the stars painted on top of her black nail polish, and the little sticker on her shirt that said "Being normal sucks. I'd rather be a mutant."

I tilted my head and said to her, "You know, I used to hate reading too."

The girl's fingers didn't pause.

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