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She might crawl over the circulation desk to get at me.
And I’d be happy to help.
That overheard exchange let me know how I could guarantee a yes from Summer. Problem is, even though I signed with a literary agent over the summer, there’s been no actual movement on my manuscript.
Which means I’m still coming to these writers meetings without any news, having to watch Summer get googly eyed around a guy who’s actually accomplished something.
He’s happily married, I remind myself.AndSummer isn’t a homewrecker, I beg the universe.
But what person wouldn’t want the sexy librarian who stares up at them with hero worship?
Dr. Marlin enters the conference room without Summer on his trail, and I’m suddenly glad she didn’t accept my invitation to attend the meetings. I’m not sure I’d be able to handle an hour of her gushing all over the professor.
He nods at me, and I force my chin into a dip, returning the gesture no matter how reluctantly. As the clock ticks toward six, more of our group show up. The chair next to me is filled by a teenager who appears perpetually uncomfortable with his gangly body. He reminds me of myself ten years ago. I’ve seen Summer talking to him with an aura of protectiveness hovering around her. I figure if she likes the kid, then I won’t automatically ignore him.
Jamie. I think that’s his name.
But small talk is not my skillset, so I just give him a silent nod, and he returns with a hopeful smile.
“You’re Summer’s friend, right?” The way he pairs me with the librarian immediately increases my view of him.
“Yes.”
“She’s great.”
“Agreed.”
That’s it, but it feels like enough. Some of the kid’s obvious discomfort eases, and he pulls out a well-used notebook that’s not too different from mine. He’s never shared in a meeting before, and I find myself wondering what he writes.
“All right, let’s get started.” Dr. Marlin stands at the front of the room, raising his hands to get everyone’s attention. There are about fourteen people gathered. The group would probably be larger if it was widely advertised that Dr. Marlin is the leader, but he seems to like keeping the gathering smaller.
I prefer that, too.
“I hope you all found some time to write this week. Does anyone have an excerpt they’d like to share?”
Hands go up. Not mine, even though I did get a few thousand words on the page. I just don’t feel like being the center of a discussion today. I’d rather sit back and listen. Maybe get inspired.
Then I notice the kid’s hand in a hesitant half raise. His arms are so long, he could reach halfway to the ceiling if he committed. But that awkwardness still lingers. He’s probably dealing with that voice in his head, the one that all writers have. The one that tells us our work is shit, and we shouldn’t bother.
If Summer were here, she’d no doubt be vibrating in her seat, brain about to explode from the happiness of potentially getting to hear her young friend read.
Since she isn’t here, I’m hit with a sudden urge to act in her best interest.
“We’ve never heard from Jamie.” I throw a thumb to my right, bringing Dr. Marlin’s attention to the kid, who can’t seem to decide if he wants to put himself forward or sink into the floor. “I want to hear his stuff.”
“Y-you do?” His adolescent voice cracks on the first word, and his face gets red as he meets my eyes then looks away, then glances back and away again.
“Perfect. I love to hear new voices. Especially young ones. Why don’t you share, Jamie?”
“Okay. Yeah.” The kid is still tomato red, but he’s grinning as he flips open his notebook.
There’s an interesting tingle in my chest. Something like pride and satisfaction.
I can’t help thinking that Summer would approve of my actions.
Take that, Dr. Marlin.
Chapter Thirteen
