Tangled
Chapter 16
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.
Start your own library. They’ve already been
luxury. Books were unnecessary, and Mom and Dad weren’t interested in feeding my addiction to fantasy worlds and lives that could take me
by the musty scent of old pages,
seem so far–fetched.
petting her. “What do you think,
silly question. As if it was ever an option to get
out a contented sigh, which I choose to interpret as a yes.
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<
Settling in (1)
the spines of the books, their textures as varied as their titles. Some are smooth, others ridged, a few even cracked with age.
to cherish, mine to
But where?
and survey the living room with a critical eye. The walls are bare, save for a few generic paintings that came with the apartment.
hold my new
a lower shelf, maybe under the window.
could work.
the living room in not the
inat
14
had a
Ava: Settling In
wake up every morning and see my beloved books, ready and waiting to be read. And maybe, just maybe, I could squeeze a small shelf into the bathroom. For those long soaks in the tub, when
limited only by the space I have and the strength of the shelves. But I’m determined. These books have
from her spot on the couch, her blue eyes curious. “What do you think, girl? Should
her head, considering, then lets out a soft
bark.
of shopping, of crisp white bookshelves and the colorful book spines that would enliven them up. Maybe I would even do something
color. It would be
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Ava: Settling In
my mind until they stop with a jerk and a dip in my belly as reality sets in. Bookshelves cost money. Money that I don’t have in abundance, not with my barista wages. Not with how
sink back onto the couch, my enthusiasm gone. Happy Ava is gone, and regular
comfort.
Eating and saving for
than bookshelves. Once I have a car, once I’m settled in classes, things will
on the floor is almost painful. They deserve better. They deserve
life. People turning old crates into rustic shelves, repurposing ladders into quirky bookcases, even building
ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early
679
Ava: Settling
can do that.” I sit up again, staring at my walls. It can’t be that hard, can it? I
at the excitement in my
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