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.

own library. They’ve already been up there

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

now, surrounded by the musty scent of old

seem so far–fetched.

I realize I’ve stopped petting her. “What do you think,

silly question. As if it was ever an option to get rid of them. Who throws away

a contented sigh, which I choose to

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<

Settling

are smooth, others ridged, a few even cracked with age. Each one holds a story, a world waiting to be explored.

to cherish, mine

But where?

Selene’s huff of displeasure at being disturbed, and survey the living room with a critical eye. The walls are bare, save for a few generic paintings that came with

will hold my new

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

that could work.

room in not the atort

inat

14

hodroom had a

Settling In (II)

read. And maybe, just maybe, I could squeeze a small shelf into the bathroom.

These books have waited

eyes curious. “What do

her head, considering, then

bark.

the rabbithole of shopping, of crisp white bookshelves and the colorful book spines that would enliven

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

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Settling In (1)

reality sets in. Bookshelves cost

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

comfort.

Eating and saving for school is

once I’m settled

on the floor is almost painful. They deserve

crates into rustic shelves, repurposing ladders into quirky bookcases, even building shelves, from scratch with nothing but a few

Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to

679

Ava: Settling in

up again, staring at my walls. It can’t be that hard,

up at the excitement in