Page 43 of A Novel Love Story

She handed over the book. I took it gingerly and turned it over in my hands. It really was in terrible shape. The cover was missing, as was the title page, and the spine was broken, so at least half of the glued-in pages were already in the middle of falling out, or had already done so. Since the book was perfect-bound and not coptic stitched, it was both an easieranda harder fix. The cover itself was toast—it’d need a new one. But overall … I’d done worse to my own books, and Mom had fixed those.

Lily waited impatiently. “Well?”

“Yes, I think I can do it. I don’t have my tools from home, so it might be a bit hard …”

“The bookstore has a craft section,” she pointed out, biting on her dark hair nervously. “Maybe you can find some stuff there?”

The bookstore was the last place I really wanted to go, but it sounded silly to tell her that I wouldn’t just because I wanted to avoid Anders at all costs. And here I thought I could spend a day without seeing his face. Well, I could still try.

“Okay,” I caved, “but we’ll have to be a little sneaky. Anders … doesn’t really like me right now.”

She nodded knowingly. “Because you assaulted him?”

I winced. “It’s … more complicated than that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Grown-ups are weird.”

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted. “So … to the bookstore?”

“The bookstore,” Lily said, and left down the street toward Ineffable Books. I hurried after her, the broken book in tow.

14

Spine(less)

ANDERS, BLESSEDLY, WAS NOWHEREto be found. Neither was his cat, Butterscotch.

I set the book down on the front counter. The longer I could sneak around the grumpy bookstore owner, the better. Apologizing was the adult thing to do, but I didn’t know exactly what to say yet, or how to say it.I’m sorry I slapped you, but you were an asshole?That seemed contrary. No, best to avoid him for as long as possible.

I whispered to Lily, counting on my fingers, “Okay, I’ll need some Elmer’s glue, some tape, a cardboard box, scissors, and a ruler—oh, and a ribbon, too, if you’ve got it—”

“Whatare you two doing?” came the cold, articulate voice of Anders.

I spun around with a gasp. “Ah! You’re here.”

Anders stood, quite unamused, between Nonfiction and Memoirs, and took a bite of his bagel with—what smelled like onion-and-chive schmear. “And, regrettably, so are you.”

Today, he wore a loose heather-gray T-shirt and dark blue jeans that he most definitely looked horrible in. He didn’t have an ass for jeans, I told myself, and I didn’t take note of the way he fit in them. Not at all.

I narrowed my eyes. He returned the glower. “You don’t have to sneak up on people,” I said.

“It’s fun.” He shifted his gaze between me and Lily, and then back to me. “Let me ask again: What are you two doing? Nothing good, with you two together.”

Lily held up her book. “She’s going to fix it for me! Oops,” she added as a handful of pages fell out and fluttered to the floor.

Anders shoved the rest of his bagel in his mouth, dusted his fingers off on his jeans, and stooped to help her pick them up. When he’d swept them together, he handed the pages to her, squatting down so he had to look up at her. “Is she now?” Again, another one of those piercing looks at me. I winced, wanting to melt into the floor, and diverted my gaze to my shoes. “And she knows how to fix it?”

“I do,” I interjected, and Lily nodded excitedly.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment as he studied me, pushing himself back to his feet. The way he held himself, cold and composed, made him seem like a giant. It made me stand straighter, too, so I didn’t have to look all the way up his nose. Then his attention returned to Lily, and he said to her, his shoulders melting a little into a friendlier stance, “Well, aren’t we in for a treat, then? What can I help with?”

I began to say, “Oh, you don’t need—”

But Lily held up her hands and counted on her fingers, “Glue, tape, cardboard box, scissors, ruler and—um—what was the last thing?” she asked me.

“A ribbon.”

“Right, that. You got it, right?”

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