“No problem.”
“Maybe just a small, intimate movie night with your friends,” suggests Savannah.
His friends. Wes likes to limit that group: Ella and Nico; Zay, who’s very chill with a great sense of humor; and Kyra, who makes Zay seem uptight. Wes supposes Anna is in that elite squad now. She’s his “replacement” at the bookstore while he’s been gone. She’s also pretty much the anti-Ella, which Wes needs occasionally.
“Only movie nights, Mom. Promise.”
She smiles sweetly at him. “Call me tomorrow.”
“Deal.”
Just as Wes hangs up and drops his phone on the bed, Ella twirls into his doorway. Backlit by the hallway lights, she’s a stunner in a bowler hat, jeans, and leather jacket. All black, of course. The only exception is a white, flowy blouse under the jacket.
Wes sits up for a better view. “Wow, really channeling ’80s Madonna, huh?”
“She only wishes she was me at our age,” Ella says.
“True that.”
“Though, even now, I’m positive she’d still try to hook up with this Long Beach State freshman volleyball player I’m going out with.”
“LB State? Nice flex.”
“I know,” she says, winking.
“So, this is happening?” Wes rubs his jaw. “You’re, like, going on a date-date?”
“Correct.”
“But…” He pauses to choose his words carefully.
Thing is, Ella doesn’t date. Well, occasionally, like on Leap Year Day. She doesn’t conform to any heteronormative directives. She rejects the idea that anyone should seek out romance as an agency to existence. Monogamy might as well be a foreign language to her. All this, Wes totally respects. But it makes incidents like this, when Ella is going on a date, kind of weird.
“Why?” Wes finally asks.
“Because I’m bored, and you haven’t been around for a month, and…”
“But I’m back.”
“Obvi. But I already made plans. And maybe I like this guy.”
“Okay.” Wes wants to call bullshit.
“It’s my prerogative, Wes. He’s cute, I’m a hottie, so why not?”
“Huh.” Wes nods approvingly. “That’s fair.”
“Great,” Ella says through her teeth. “Now do the gay bestie thing and comment on how amazing my hair looks.”
“Uh, that’s stereotyping.”
“You are a stereotype.”
Fact, but he’s not that stereotype.
“You look…” Again, Wes considers his words. “Like a material girl.”
Ella flips him off with a snort-giggle. Wow, he’s really missed that noise. “Whoever this dude is, he doesn’t stand a chance,” Wes adds, because it’s true.
Ella hovers in his doorway. She never hovers.
“What?” Wes asks.
“Wes,” Ella says, gently.
Wes’s spine goes rigid. This is it. This is how every scene before someone announces, “They’re dead!” starts. Wes can feel his heart crawl into his esophagus. He’s already trembling.
“Is it Mr. Rossi? Is he dead?” he stammers. Mr. Rossi’s at that age where “natural causes” is sure to be scribbled on his death certificate. “Wait… is it Zay?”
Wes still hasn’t shaken the guilt about teaching Zay how to play Beirut with Fireball whiskey over winter break this year. What was he thinking? Zay just turned seventeen. But that was kind of Ella’s fault, too, so if Wes is indicted for involuntary manslaughter, he’s taking her with him.
“What? No,” Ella says incredulously.
Wes inhales deeply. His forearm hairs stand tall, but he’s prepared. He can handle this.
“They closed Book Attic,” Ella eventually says.
“Book Attic?”
“Yes. The bookstore on Fourth Street.”
“Yeah, I know,” Wes says nonchalantly.
Book Attic has been around almost as along as Once Upon a Page. Their staff was very competitive. Wes believes the store had decent foot traffic, though not as great as his bookstore, which is located near the pier. People constantly stop in at Once Upon a Page for a good beach read.
“What’s the big deal?”
“Book Attic is closed,” she repeats. “They shut down that Barnes and Noble near Third Street Promenade months ago.”
“I thought they relocated?”
“To where? Mars?” Ella’s boot taps loudly on the hardwood floor. “Are you picking up the clues, Sherlock?”
Wes pffts at her. “That those stores had poor customer service and lowkey bad realty selections?”
“Maybe…”
“Not going there, Ella.” Wes’s neck is tight, but he still manages to shake his head. “Once Upon a Page is an institution. Nothing bad’s happening here. Those two bookstores closing, out of the ten around us plus the twenty in downtown L.A., are just wild coincidences.”
“Hella wild coincidences, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think,” Wes says with a lightheartedness he hopes she accepts.
The corners of her mouth quirk. “Not very well, at least.”
“That’s what my SAT scores say.”
Ella doesn’t mention anything else about the bookstore. She tugs her phone out of her jacket. She has a My Chemical Romance phone case. Wes is aggressively disappointed by her choices. “I better go before this guy thinks he’s unworthy of my time,” she says.
“If he can’t lift Mjölnir, then he’s unworthy of your glory.”
“That’s some kind of nerd, DC joke, right?”
Correction: Wes is aggressively disappointed by Ella’s comic book knowledge.
“Whatever.” Ella waves. “Don’t wait up for me!”
“Do I ever?”
“Good boy.”
“Use protection!” he shouts, but the door’s already slamming shut. Fine. Wes isn’t Ella’s guardian anyway.
Wes spends ten minutes on his phone, updating his social media accounts with photos and videos from Italy. He scrolls through a few hilarious Reddit posts and watches random YouTube videos of talking cats and epic fails. But he can’t escape how quiet the loft is.