B Is For Book Novels & Stories

“Truth.” Everyone booed, expecting him to choose a dare because of how crazy he was. Sammy leaned forward. “Fine, I’ll ask. Why did you join the book club? You never even liked reading.” Everyone chuckled. Brent scratched his neck, glancing at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. “Uh. Okay. I joined because of April.” For a fleeting second, silence enveloped us. April was blinking in surprise before she finally found her strength to talk. “Me?”

I say. “For sitting in a kitchen at five in the morning,” she says. “For saying things you should have said sooner and then saying them anyway.” She pauses. “For being the B.” She holds my gaze. “Whatever the B stands for in this line. Blackthorn. Beside. Both.” She pauses. “Thank you for being the B.” I look at her. “Thank you for letting me be,” I say. She looks at the shelf. At both records. At four hundred years of continuation on a library shelf in Ironveil.