Confessions from the Group Chat

Chapter 1

If there was one thing I was good at, it was putting books where they belonged. Not to brag, but after two months volunteering at the local library, I was basically a professional.

“Last cart, Virginia.” Mrs. Kauffman motioned to Ostrich (the cart’s name; it wasn’t explicitly stated in the rules, but actual ostriches weren’t allowed in the public library).

Ostrich was filled with returns: mostly chapter books, picture books, and graphic novels.

“You can leave as soon as you’re done, since you have that review with ‘Four Takes’ today. ”

“Thanks.” Usually, my reviews with “Four Takes” were scheduled for Sunday afternoons, when I wasn’t at the library, but Mary Heather had been busy yesterday so we’d moved it to today. That was annoying, but I didn’t want to complain and start a fight. “I’m sorry to cut things short.”

Mrs. Kauffman shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like I’m paying you. You’re shelving books for free.”

“That’s true.” I really liked organizing things, though. And books.

I wheeled Ostrich to the kids’ section. Shelving wasn’t my only task here.

I also kept an eye on the stacks, since people sometimes put books back in weird places, and I helped out with programming, like reading to the little kids, crafts, and other activities.

Sure, the small local library wasn’t where my friends wanted to hang out (it wasn’t cool enough), but I enjoyed coming here twice a week.

It felt like my own private world, even though the public library was—by definition—public. Plus, Mrs. Kauffman was nice.

And then there was the other reason I liked coming here: Grayson Jennings also frequented the Deer Hill branch.

He was a boy in my grade, and I’d spoken exactly fifteen words to him. Those words were “Do you need help finding something?” and “Okay cool,” and “Yeah, I’m Virginia Vaughn,” and “Okay, see you.”

In the two months I’d been volunteering here, that was my one and only exchange with him. (You can probably fill in his side. Trust me, it was equally thrilling.)

Currently, he was writing in a notebook at the big table, his cheek resting on his fist. A pile of books sat beside him, but edge on, so I couldn’t see the titles.

He was really cute—tall and tanned, with curly brown hair and a smile that had caused quite a few girls (present company included) to develop massive crushes.

He’d been super popular all through sixth and seventh grade, but this year, he’d abruptly quit the football team.

Which led to his (ex) teammates saying he couldn’t hang out with them anymore.

Which led to a sudden drop down the social ladder.

No more team lunch table. No more crushing girls. No more anything.

Now he was basically in the underworld. To speak his name was to court death.

As for what had caused him to quit? I couldn’t say. But he spent most of his time at the library now, which worked for me. The better to pine over him.

From afar. Obviously. I had my own reputation to consider.

I sighed and finished unloading Ostrich, fixed a few books that were clearly out of place, and returned to the desk, where Mrs. Kauffman was talking on the phone. She lifted a finger, signaling me to wait.

I dug through my bag in my cubby and pulled out my mirror to touch up my tinted lip gloss, sneaking a peek at Grayson through the glass.

He’d closed his notebook and moved on to reading. Completely oblivious to my stealth gazing.

I sighed and imagined him noticing me noticing him. I imagined him smiling (at me!). And I imagined him sitting with me in class.

Or … something. That was where my imagination broke down.

For one, I wasn’t entirely sure how boyfriend/girlfriend things worked.

For two, how did we get over the problem of him being as unpopular as he used to be popular?

Could he be raised back up into respectability?

Would our popularities average out somehow?

And for three, maybe most significantly, I didn’t actually know much about him (besides the gossip), so I didn’t know how we’d hang out if we were, ahem, a couple.

Maybe we’d read? We both liked reading.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time: 4:21 p.m. I was meeting Mary Heather, Kat, and Jess at Seasonal Sweets in nine minutes. The shop was only a block away, so I had plenty of time.

Still, I shifted from hip to hip. I didn’t like being late. If anyone was going to be late, it was usually Kat. No one ever said anything to her, of course, but if I arrived even a nanosecond after the appointed time—well, it was the end of the world.

“Sorry about that.” Mrs. Kauffman hung up the phone and signed me out. “One thing before you go. The Deer Hill Winter Jolly-Days Festival is coming up, and as you know, the library always has a booth.”

Oh, I knew. In the past, they’d given away books and crafting supplies, and, of course, they’d signed people up for library cards.

It was a big deal in town. There were tons of other booths, too, perfect for holiday shopping, plus live music (mostly from the school bands). My family went every year.

“This year’s festival is scheduled for the twentieth and twenty-first, and I want you to help set up the library booth,” Mrs. Kauffman went on. “We start decorating it next week.”

“Great! I was hoping to help.” The booths were always so beautiful. There was even a most-beautiful-booth contest. A contest that I would now be participating in.

And I wanted to win. I wanted to win a lot.

Sure, volunteering at the library wasn’t the coolest thing I could be doing with my free time—a fact that my friends reminded me about every day—but it made me happy. The books needed me. And so did this booth.

Speaking of my friends, my phone buzzed with an alarm, reminding me to go. “I’ll think about how to decorate it.”

“Sounds good.” She waved me out the door. “See you Wednesday!”

Feeling good about literally everything concerning my immediate future, I grabbed my backpack, coat, and scarf from my cubby. Then, with one last look over my shoulder at Grayson (who was still reading in that dreamy way), I headed out the door into the brisk November chill.

Mary Heather changing our review day was annoying because it cut out half an hour of my library time, but at least this small change to my schedule wasn’t going to upset the delicate balance of my entire life.

Except … that was exactly what happened.

I just didn’t know it yet.