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.

Start your own library. They’ve already been up there

were unnecessary, and Mom and Dad

now, surrounded by the musty scent

seem

my hand, and I realize I’ve stopped petting her. “What

ever an option to get rid of

I choose to

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<

Ava Settling in

titles. Some are smooth, others ridged, a few even cracked with age. Each one

to cherish, mine to display.

But where?

The walls are bare, save for a few generic paintings that came with the

will hold my

tall bookcase, perfect for the hardcovers. The smaller paperbacks could go on a lower shelf, maybe under the window. And

could work.

room in

inat

14

hodroom had

Ava: Settling

begging for a bookshelf. I could 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 I want nothing more than to

These books have waited long enough to be read, to

eyes curious. “What do you think, girl? Should we go

tilts her head, considering, then

bark.

a yes as my mind races down the rabbithole of shopping, of crisp white bookshelves and the colorful book spines that would enliven them up. Maybe

It would be

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Settling In (1)

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

and regular Ava is back. Selene senses my mood shift and nuzzles my hand

comfort.

Eating and saving for

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

stories, languishing in piles on the floor

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

Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access

679

Ava: Settling in

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

at the excitement in