Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
She loved it that Indy and her friends and half the high school hung at her store, even if none of them bought books (that being them, I bought books all the time).
“I’ll drop you girls at the concert,” Ellen offered.
Indy looked upset because Lee blew her off, even if she replied, “Thanks, Gram.”
Yeesh.
Lee was acting like a jerk. And if he didn’t get himself together, he was going to lose that girl.
I mean, she was younger than him, she was also younger than me, but not that much younger.
I saw movement in the stacks and looked that way.
Duke was there, his dark hair graying, his beard getting out of control.
I got up, because he was my dealer, he had something to pimp, and I could never resist what he was pimping.
I didn’t look at Darius as I passed where he was sitting because I might trip or something, which would be so embarrassing, I wouldn’t be able to deal. I wasn’t sure Mom would accept the excuse of, “I can’t go to school for the next two years because I tripped in front of a hottie.”
Though, she’d get it, she just wouldn’t accept it.
Dad definitely wouldn’t (and he wouldn’t get it either).
As I made it his way, Duke turned and sauntered deeper into the bookshelves.
I followed him, thinking I loved the smell of Fortnum’s. Must and dust, the portal to a million different worlds, a cornucopia of knowledge.
I’d just started hanging with Indy and Ally, mostly because I’d started hanging at Fortnum’s, seeing as that’s where the kids hung.
And the first time I went there, I fell in love with it.
Now it was my favorite place on Earth.
Duke moved into a row.
P-Q-R-S, fiction.
I followed him.
When I stopped in front of him, he lifted his hand and offered me a book. Fahrenheit 451.
I took it even though I said, “We read this in school last September.”
“Read it again when you don’t have to write a term paper on it.”
I smiled at him. “Is there a difference?”
“There’s reading something because you want to get a good grade, and there’s reading something because every person on Earth needs to read it and get it.”
Well, I thought I got the book when I read it, but right then, I got him. We shared a love of words. We had a different language than other people.
Since he knew I understood him, he nodded and took off, as usual (Duke was a man of few words, the spoken kind, the other kind, he had gazillions to offer).
As was becoming our way, I didn’t follow.
I leaned against the shelves and opened up the book, knowing what I’d get.
This time, it was “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel.
Duke always put a sheet of handwritten song lyrics in front of the books he gave me. He said there was poetry everywhere, you just had to look for it.
To prove his point, in one of the books he gave me, he once put a snapshot he took of a fawn and its mother in the forest around his cabin up in Evergreen. It wasn’t the greatest picture of all time. But it was pure poetry.
I read the words of the song.
And at the bottom, I read Duke’s note:
They’ll cut you ‘til you cry out.
Be the boxer.
Remain.
“Hey.”
I jumped, fumbled the book, the note fell out and fluttered to the floor, but I didn’t go for it, because Darius Tucker was standing right there.
Right there.
“Uh…uh…”
Oh my God!
I was strangling. Why was I strangling?
I couldn’t breathe!
His lips curled up at the ends before he crouched and picked up the paper, straightened and held it out to me.
“You dropped this,” he said.
My hand was trembling when I took it and forced out, “Yeah.”
He looked down, and it was only then I realized he wasn’t letting go of the paper.
This meant he had his fingers on the paper, and I had my fingers on the paper, which was only two steps away from us, like, holding hands!
“What is it?” he asked.
“What?”
He dipped his head to the paper, and I lost track of what was happening, considering all I could think about was how smooth his skin seemed, how warm and soulful his brown eyes were, how long and curly his eyelashes looked, how beautiful his lips were formed.
He gently tugged on the paper. “This.”
“What?”
He smiled, wide and white, it made his expressive eyes taper, his cheekbones pop out.
Okay…um…
What was going on with my legs? I was having trouble standing.
“Malia?”
“Hunh?”
“You okay?”
“Uh…uh…”
Oh Lord! I was strangling again!
He pulled the paper from my fingers and looked at it.
“I know this song,” he said.
I said nothing because I had to focus all my attention on not passing out.
“Why’s Duke giving you song lyrics?” he asked.
I didn’t answer because I couldn’t.
And…okay, this was stupid.
I had to get myself together.
Indy wouldn’t stand here like a moron, uhing and fighting for breath.