3 Library
THE NEXT MORNING, I texted Lennie as soon as I woke up.
Me: SOS. Are you awake?
Me: Can you come over before I go to the Acorn?
Lennie: My phone just vibrated, fell off my shelf, and hit me in the face. So … now I’m awake
Lennie: SOS in a good way?
Me: I think so?
Lennie: Intrigued
Lennie: See you soon
I mixed up some batter and started making pancakes. It was the least I could do, making Len get up so early, but I really needed to talk to her.
Pop rubbed his belly as he walked into the kitchen. “Do I smell pancakes?”
“You do. Want some?” I asked as I flipped. Golden and perfect.
“Please, sweetheart, and can I have some to take with me?”
“Sure thing. What’s going on today?”
“Just taking a look at a broken chicken coop up near the old mill.” Pop drizzled maple syrup over the pancakes I’d given him.
He didn’t even sit, just stood at the counter and wolfed them down.
When I handed him the next stack, I watched him wrap it up carefully in aluminum foil and slide it into his pocket.
“Pop, a stack of pancakes isn’t lunch. Promise me you’ll eat something else,” I urged him.
He looked at me fondly. “I will, don’t you worry. See you later?” He picked up his toolbox from beside the door.
“Later.” I saluted him with the spatula.
Lennie entered with perfect timing. I was just putting the last pancake on her stack when she threw the door open.
“I have arrived,” she declared. She still looked half asleep, her hair half in a ponytail, half not. She sniffed the air.
“Pancakes!” She sighed, walked over, picked up her stack and the bottle of maple syrup, and took them over to the sofa. She curled up under Mom’s quilt and started eating.
“Okay, I kind of have something I need to talk to you about …” I said.
“Pancakes first or talking first?” Mouth full.
Pancakes with my best friend sounded good right about now.
We ate cuddled up together on the couch, and when we were both stuffed, Lennie took the plates to the kitchen and jumped back onto the sofa beside me.
“Okay, what is it? Is it a guy?” Lennie wriggled her eyebrows.
“Sorry to disappoint. But no. Although … I forgot to tell you Carter Blake did come into the Acorn yesterday. Remember him?” I sighed at the memory of his perfect face.
“Do I remember him? I think that boy will be seared into my memory until the end of time because of how obsessed you all were with him.”
“I mean, it was kind of justified … and, if anything, he’s gotten even hotter.
But he’s only back for a couple of weeks, I think, and no …
it’s not a guy … Oh, but also, I ran into this other boy yesterday.
You would have hated him.” I wondered why he popped into my mind right now.
“Some tourist with a sketchbook, drawing the library. Super rude. Mansplained the wind to me, like he was some kind of weatherman.” I rolled my eyes.
“Ugh!” Lennie made a face. “See, I told you tourists were awful!”
“Not all of them. But this one definitely was.”
“Okay fine. But stop stalling,” Lennie said, going serious. “Is it something bad? Should I be worried?”
My stomach couldn’t decide whether it wanted to flip or puke.
I bit my lip, took out my phone, and scrolled to the email.
I handed her the phone and watched her face as she speed-read the email from the attorney.
“Willa, what the hell?! Is this for real?” she whispered in excitement.
“Well, I didn’t think it was real. I thought, total scam, right? But then … I got this.” I reached into my back pocket and handed her the folded-up letter from Aunt Lisa. And then Lennie was fully speechless, maybe for the first time in her whole life.
When she let the letter drop onto the table, I waved my hand in front of her face. “Are you okay?”
She mimed her head exploding. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“That I’m richer than I was yesterday?” I shrugged. But my mind was racing.
“London!”
“London?” I mean, it was on the list of places I wanted to go. Obviously. But why was she singling out London?
Lennie grabbed my shoulders, shaking them gently. “The course.”
“The course,” I repeated, trying to guide my brain to the same place hers had landed. And then it all came back.
One night at Lennie’s a few months ago, I’d been helping her research colleges when an ad popped up on the screen.
One for the London School of Journalism.
I was about to hit the little x in the right-hand corner when something stopped me.
And of course Lennie, who noticed everything, saw my hesitation.
She told me to open it, and when I did, it blew my mind.
Because it was like someone had created this course just for me even though I didn’t know I wanted it.
One year at the London School of Journalism, learning to write like a travel writer. There were placements, portfolios, field trips. It looked amazing. Everything I could ever want in a course, and in London. Except the one drawback. It cost $20,000.
And at the time I remembered being kind of relieved. Like Oh no, I could never afford it, I can’t do it. Which meant I could brush it right off and squash it down. And that was that.
“London!” Lennie whispered again. “You’re always making me watch movies set there. Remember that super-boring one? What was it called … I can’t remember, actually, they’re all super boring, except for 28 Days Later. Does it count if it’s postapocalyptic?” Lennie was off on a tangent.
“I would love to go to London …” I said. But then came the tidal wave of all the things Aunt Lisa had told me not to consider. Practicalities, responsibilities, people I’d leave behind.
“I’m pretty sure there’ll be an exam and everything to get into it. Which I probably wouldn’t even pass.”
Lennie was already scrolling on her phone.
In about two seconds, she found the entry criteria, which she showed me on her screen.
A multiple-choice exam and an essay. The personal essay prompt was “What is your relationship with travel? What does it mean to you?” Not that I even knew.
What was my relationship with travel? Nonexistent.
Lennie studied the page and grew pensive. “I can help you with this, Will. Not that you’ll need any help with the writing, you’re an amazing writer. It’s just … I can help you learn the boring stuff, if you want. I’ve got loads of experience learning boring stuff.”
Lennie’s eyes were sparkling. How could I ever leave her behind?
“And the exam is just before Thanksgiving. That’s plenty of time.”
“I don’t know …” It was all so soon. Thanksgiving was less than two months away, and this course started …
next September? I was happy here in Oak Falls.
Wasn’t I? I felt sick about leaving, terrified about failing the exam, and somehow also fizzing with excitement when I imagined stepping off a plane into England.
“Willa, stop! Okay, let’s make a plan. How about this? You can spend every weekend in the library studying. That should be enough.”
Except I was still in high school, and I had a job. “What about the coffee shop …?”
Lennie nodded. “Yeah. You might have to quit your weekends there—or at least take a break. You’ll need that time.”
“And Pop …”
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“No, I have, he was there last night when I got the letter,” I admitted, trying to think straight.
“And what did he say?”
“He was happy for me …”
“Of course he was. This is amazing, and you can do it. Stop making excuses. Aunt Lisa even says it in her letter. Listen to Aunt Lisa. Right?”
“Right?” I said it as a question. Reluctant to sound like I was happy already. Scared to admit it.
She just leaned over and hugged me, and I let myself relax into the arms of the best friend any girl could ever have.
Somehow I agreed to call Pop, right there and then, since Lennie made me braver.
“Willa? What’s wrong?” he asked when he answered.
He sounded slightly out of breath, like he’d rushed for his phone.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. Where are you?”
“That job near the mill. What’s up, sweetheart?”
“Remember Aunt Lisa’s letter?” I began.
“Has something else happened?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just, there’s a course I was thinking of maybe applying to. In London. And there’s an exam at Thanksgiving, and I think I’ll have to quit the coffee shop to have time to study—”
“Will, honey, calm down. This is all okay. We’ll figure it all out, and if you need to quit the coffee shop to study, then that’s okay.”
“But what about the money? Are you sure?” I’d been giving Pop some of my paycheck every month, just to help with bills and repairs.
“That’s not for you to worry about,” he insisted. “Look, Will, I have to get back to work, but we can talk about this when I’m home. In the meantime, promise you won’t worry. That money is for you, and if you want to do a course in London, then London it is.”
When I hung up, I looked at Lennie. Her eyebrows were raised.
“Well, that was painful to watch. You were totally spiraling,” she said.
“I was not spiraling,” I lied.
“You totally were. But your pop’s cool with it, so what’s your next excuse?”
“Can I ask you a favor?” As if she hadn’t already volunteered to do so much already.
“Hit me,” Lennie said. “I’m ready.”
“Will you come with me to the Acorn?” I asked her. “I don’t think I can handle this alone.”
“Only if you promise not to cry. I can’t deal with tears this early in the morning.”
Geoff was already there, as usual. Setting up the coffee machine, placing the little centerpieces on the tables, and straightening all the fall decorations I’d put up.
How could I just quit? I wasn’t a person who gave up on things.
I wasn’t a person who did travel journalism courses, either, but maybe that was about to change.
“Geoff, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked, my eyes already starting to fill.
“Of course you can, Willa. What’s on your mind? We could be in for a real busy one today.” I stole a glance at Lennie, who gave me a thumbs-up.
I just blurted it out, like my body wanted to expel the words. “I need to quit …” I said in one breath. “For a while at least …”