Tangled

16 Ava: Settling In (II)

Thunk.

That’s it. That’s the last book, tossed onto a pile of mystery novels. Fifteen boxes are now empty, and while it might appear that my apartment is little more than a haphazard pile of empty boxes and organized book piles, my heart breathes with the room I’ve created by tackling the monster that is everything Mrs. Elkins stored in this apartment for the last who knows how long.

The couch is soft and springy as I flop onto it, taking a well–deserved break. Selene’s ears perk up at my sudden display of enthusiasm, but she doesn’t move, content to rest by the front door, which happens to be one of the few places in the living room not covered in something.

“We did it, Selene! We’ve tackled the monster and unpacked it all!”

Well, everything that was in the living room. The kitchen still has a few boxes, and let’s not even talk about the bedroom. But the living room? The living

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16 Ava: Settling in (11)

room is done, and that’s what matters.

I survey the piles of books scattered around the room, separated by genre. There’s a stack of classics, a pile of contemporary fiction, a few biographies, and even a small collection of poetry. The biggest pile by far, though, is near and dear to my heart. Romance. Tantalizing little bodice–rippers with bare male chests whispering to me, enticing me to flip them open and be drawn into a world of magical, mystical, perfect

men.

I used to read them whenever I had a chance. The

White Peak library was full of them, and I was desperate for any happy ever after I could get my hands on.

They’re a lot less appealing these days.

I rub my chest, frustrated by the ache that likes to poke its head out in my weak moments, and snap a quick photo of the piles to send to Mrs. Elkins.

[AVA: What should I do with all these books?]

Selene seems to realize that I’m done moving for a while and slinks over on her silent paws, jumping beside me. She circles once, twice, then settles down,

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16 Ava: Sottling In (1)

her head resting on my thigh. I scratch behind her soft ears as I wait for Mrs. Elkins‘ response.

My phone buzzes.

Keep them, dear. Start your own library. They’ve already been up there for

occurred to me. In the Blackwood Pack, books were a luxury. Books were unnecessary, and Mom and Dad weren’t interested in feeding my addiction to fantasy worlds and

musty

doesn’t seem so far–fetched.

I realize I’ve stopped petting

an option

sigh, which I

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<

Settling in

others ridged, a few even cracked with age. Each one holds a story, a world waiting

to read, mine to cherish, mine to

But where?

the living room with a critical eye. The walls are bare, save for a few generic paintings that came with the apartment.

will hold my new library.

with my steps. The wall opposite the couch could fit a tall bookcase, perfect for the hardcovers. The smaller paperbacks could go on a lower shelf, maybe under the window. And the romance novels? They deserve a special place, perhaps a little nook in the corner where I can curl up and lose myself in their pages again one

that could

the living room in not the

inat

14

hodroom had a

Settling In (II)

I could squeeze a small shelf into the bathroom. For those long soaks in the tub, when I want nothing more than to escape

These books have waited long enough to be read, to be loved. They deserve a home, and I’m going to give them

her blue eyes curious. “What do you think,

head, considering, then lets out a soft

bark.

white bookshelves and the colorful book spines that would enliven

books by color. It would be impractical, yes, but

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Ava: Settling In

in. Bookshelves cost money.

Ava is gone, and regular Ava is back. Selene senses my

comfort.

saving for school

have a car, once I’m settled in classes, things will

thought of these books, these precious stories, languishing in piles on the floor

videos I’ve watched while dreaming of building a better life. People turning old crates into rustic shelves, repurposing

Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in

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Ava: Settling in (1)

I can do that.” I sit up again, staring at my walls. It can’t

perk up at the excitement in my voice.