“Uh, hate to break it to you, but moms are epic,” Cooper tells him.
Wes is sure Ella would disagree, but when it comes to his own mom, she is pretty solid. She knows way too many hashtags, but she’s also massively supportive of who he is. Plus, she gives great hugs. So, yeah, Wes’s mom crushes epic.
“Sweet Brendon Urie, what is this?” Ella stomps up to the front counter, arms folded across her chest. Her annoyed expression, not to be confused with her burn-in-hell one, is in full effect: scrunched mouth and squinted eyes.
“What is what?” Cooper asks.
“This noise.” Ella points toward the ceiling, indicating the music.
Admittedly, Wes has heard worse, courtesy of Zay. The song sounds vaguely ‘80s, though Wes’s knowledge of that era is restricted to the music he’s heard in movies.
“Uh. Don Henley,” Cooper says.
“Don who?”
Cooper’s jaw drops. “Don Henley, from the Eagles.”
“You’re sixteen. How do you even know what the Eagles are?” Ella replies.
“You have to know who Don Henley is.”
“I do not,” snaps Ella. “Don’t threaten me with your bland music taste.” Her eyebrow lifts sharply and… there it is! Burn-in-hell face activated.
Carefully, Wes turns his head and laughs into his shoulder.
“It’s a classic,” Cooper says, as if it’ll matter. It’s not punk and it’s not loud and it’s definitely not Ella.
She clears her throat. Back arched, hands cupped over her mouth, Ella shouts, “Canceled!”
“What? No.” Cooper looks mortified.
Ella slides behind the front counter, reaching for the stereo system. “I’m cutting this shit off. I do not care about the heart of the matter.”
From the aisles, Anna and Zay say, in unison, “Canceled.”
Cooper crumples across the counter, head in his hands. “This is a mutiny. I’ve been betrayed.”
“Sorry.” Wes rests his chin on his knuckles. “It’s a struggle in these streets.”
There are three simple rules to Once Upon a Page:
1. Show up for every shift!
2. Participate in One of These Three Things—a game Wes and Nico invented their first year at the bookstore because they were bored out of their skulls and needed something to pass the time. It’s now a must for all personnel.
3. Abide by the rules of Canceled!
As outlined by the handful of employees who have occupied Once Upon a Page before Wes began working at the bookstore: Every staff member gets two daily music vetoes during their shift. No more. If anyone hates the music selection being played, that employee can “cancel’” that band or artist for the remainder of the day. Usually, Wes saves his cancels for Ella or, on his aggressively annoyed days, Zay. There’s no love lost at the bookstore for mediocre musical taste.
“Don whatever, you’ve been Canceled,” Ella announces, unceremoniously dropping the CD into one of the storage bins without putting it back in its jewel case.
Delicately, Cooper fishes the CD out and re-cases it. “Did you guys steal the Canceled thing from Empire Records?”
Ella clutches her chest, feigning astonishment. “We don’t steal around here, Lucifer,” she says, indignant. “We borrow until asked to return.”
“Damn right,” Zay says.
Ella flips through a different bin of CDs. A minute later, she earns a microscopic amount of Wes’s respect by putting on Blink-182. Humming “What’s My Age Again?” under his breath, he shifts around to stare out the window. A neon orange flyer taped to the glass advertises a forgotten book club the bookstore used to host. Outside, the sun tickles gold beams across the sidewalk.
His heart beats fiercely when the alarm on his phone goes off.
It’s one minute until three o’clock.
Chapter Six
Unlike Ella, Nico’s never late. At exactly three p.m., he whizzes past the bookstore on a skateboard, dodging pedestrians and tourists. He does a kickflip, then doubles back for an ollie. With his back to the store and head sloped, his shoulder blades are sharp angles under smooth tan skin. All his lines are perfect—narrow hips and straight arms.
Over his shoulder, Nico flashes a lazy smile. Wes’s heart uppercuts his tonsils.
When Nico’s out of sight again, Wes tries to fix his hair. The bookstore’s air conditioner is inadequate. Pit stains are ruining his lucky shirt. And, unfortunately, he doesn’t have any cologne or even a stick of deodorant stashed in the office.
Everything’s falling apart.
Ella hops onto her throne, legs crossed, lips puckered. She’s eagerly watching the door. Wes knows why.
He whispers, “I’m so dead.”
“Yup,” she says.
“This is going to end badly.”
“I’m counting on it.” She already has her phone out, recording.
Nico strolls inside, skateboard tucked under one arm. His other hand balances a cardboard cup with the Brews and Views logo on it. He’s wearing a loose-fitting tank top, low-slung black skinnies, and Adidas. His hair’s a little flat from the heat. A bead of sweat dribbles from temple to cheek to jaw.
Wes has never had a type. He’s equal-opportunity when it comes to guys. But skateboarder Nico has always created extraordinary chemical reactions inside of him.
“Yo, Alvarez!” Zay marches from between the aisles for a high-five. “Saw your moves out there. A respectable eight out of ten.”
Nico rolls his eyes, laughing. “¿Qué pasa, Jones?” He zigzags his way through the store to press a kiss to Mrs. Rossi’s cheek. “Buenas tardes, Señora Rossi.”
Ella says, “You’re drooling.”
“Shut up,” Wes says, scowling.
“Just pointing it out,” Ella comments with her phone directed at his face. Wes is certain this video evidence will haunt him for years to come, but he can’t focus on Ella. Nico and Mrs. Rossi are almost finished talking. He needs to worry about what’s going to come out of his mouth.
Which is… he’s still undecided.
“Hey,” Nico says, dumping his skateboard behind the counter.
“Hey,” Wes says, forcing that one word through his tight throat. He looks down at Nico’s board. “Sweet.”
He can tell it’s new—the wheels are still a fresh pink. On the underside are exotic florals and flamingos, a beautiful mash-up of greens and pinks.