“So, you’re like Michael Cera in Superbad?”
“Like Michael Cera in anything.”
“It’s the curls, right?” Ella teases.
Wes can’t disagree. His distinguishable hair genes—along with his severe jaw line—are from his mom’s side of the family. But he mostly favors Calvin Hudson—tall with a long nose, full lips, more-brown-than-green hazel eyes and a need to shave everything since he was fifteen. But Wes didn’t inherit his father’s rich brown skin; neither did Leo. Wes’s complexion is more like a pale tan.
“So, now that you’re sexy-as-fuck,” Ella says, still driving as if Wes doesn’t want to see his nineteenth birthday, “we can start finding you some prospects? Or are we waiting until classes start in September?”
Another great thing about Ella: She’s going to UCLA in the fall too. Wes won’t be alone as he experiences his first post-high-school existential crisis.
“I don’t need any prospects,” Wes replies with as much nonchalance as a lying politician.
“You don’t?”
“Nope. I’m good. Happy and single.”
“Single, yes,” Ella agrees, then raises her eyebrows. “Happy? Depends on how you classify it.”
“I classify it as Wes Hudson, a guy on the verge of getting his shit together.”
“So, the utter opposite of happy.”
“Ella, I’m not going to spend my summer chasing after boys to fill some emptiness you think exists.”
“Well, not boys,” she replies, “but hopefully you won’t be chasing the same boy.”
Wes’s hands curl into fists in his lap. He knows where this conversation is going. “You can stop implying.”
“I will when you stop avoiding.”
“I’m not avoiding anything,” Wes hisses, but he is. He most definitely is. “I just want to spend this summer kicking back. Go to a party or two. Read comics. Avoid Leo. Hang out as much as possible at Once Upon a Page. That’s it.”
Ella sighs heavily. “Oh, here we go…”
Yup, here we go.
Wes is certain they’ve had at least ten different versions of this discussion over the short span of their friendship.
“All you do is spend time at the bookstore,” says Ella. “As if all you want out of life is that damn place and Nico.”
There, she’s said it. Now it’s all Wes will be thinking about for the next fifteen minutes.
Not as if Wes hasn’t thought about this one thing since, well, tenth grade. But he’s a realist. He knows discussing his massive crush on his best friend with anyone has never solved the problem. If talking about all life’s problems solved anything, people might actually be a lot further along with their goals than just hashtags on social media.
“Listen,” Wes says, angling his body in Ella’s direction. “Life’s good. We’re done with high school. I smashed my college essay, and we’re headed to my dream school…”
“Your parents’ dream school,” Ella corrects.
Wes’s parents are UCLA alumni, not that that had a direct impact on why he chose to stay closer to home. Santa Monica is his life. So maybe he wanted to be somewhere all his memories with Nico exist, since Nico won’t be at UCLA with him. He doesn’t think that’s a bad thing.
“What I’m trying to say is, the rest of this summer is going to be killer.”
Ella rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, pal.”
The car pulls into the parking garage behind a pale pink building. Wes doesn’t care if Ella agrees with him. He’s home. He has two months left to execute his nonexistent plan. And he’s damn sure going to make the most of what he’s got.
Chapter Two
The Five Things I Love the Most:
Number Two—Once Upon a Page
I don’t know if I believe in magic. REAL magic. Not the stuff in Marvel movies. But I think everyone has that one place where they believe anything is possible.
For me, that’s Once Upon a Page.
When I walk inside, I feel like I’m safe. I’m invincible. The Adult World can’t touch me. I don’t have to worry about leaving my mark in life. College? What’s that? Career, who?
Maybe there really is a spell cast on the bookstore’s doors. Once you enter, you’re a kid again. You’re free. Nothing—not even goblins like Leo—can take this away from you.
I guess I do believe in magic.
I believe Once Upon a Page is my gateway to being myself.
Paseo Del Mar is a pastel pink building that sits proudly on the corner of Colorado and Ocean Avenues. It’s framed by gray sidewalks and palm trees. A series of twinkling fairy lights connects the property to the metal fence surrounding Tongva Park. A few paces down the sidewalk, a giant pedestrian intersection is mobbed with people, no matter the hour, all entering and exiting Santa Monica Pier.
But that’s not why Wes is standing in front of this building as the dying sunset melts the peach from the skyline.
He’s not here for the landmark of Paseo Del Mar, a mom-and-pop pizzeria named Little Tony’s Big Slice that hogs a corner of the turf. It’s still open; the glass door swings ajar to exhale the scent of basil and flour and greasy pepperoni slices.
He doesn’t want to slide into Brews and Views, the coffeehouse where Kyra works and where all the anti-corporate coffee people huddle instead of the three nearby Starbucks. Aerial, the surf shop, is already closed, though there’s a light in the back indicating JoJo, the owner, is probably sleeking new boards before she hangs them in the display window tomorrow morning.
Wes is here for the place sandwiched between Little Tony’s and Aerial: Once Upon a Page. He’s here for the independent bookstore that he knows better than his own bedroom. Like Aerial, the bookstore is already closed, but Wes doesn’t care. He just wants to look. He wants to absorb that last bit of charge—one he can never name or describe—from the parents who were dragged into the store today by their excited children or the quiet girl who camped in a corner, devouring every mystery book she could find. He wants to imagine himself behind that front counter, ringing up customers or introducing a new, wide-eyed teen to all his favorite comic series.
At the pier entrance, a young amateur rapper spits rapid-fire lyrics. From farther out come screams from Pacific Park, where patrons ride the solar-powered Ferris wheel or the rollercoaster. But all Wes can hear is the collection of ‘90s tunes he usually plays while he’s at work.