Julian From The Book Wonder นิยาย & เรื่องราว

ELENA Once the shock of that negative test finally settled, Julian didn't leave. "You're shaking, take it " he said, pulling a massive, heavy gray hoodie out of his backpack. "Thank you," I muttered, pulling it over my head. It completely swallowed me, the sleeves hiding my hands. Julian sat on the stool right next to mine, his long legs stretching out against the metal railing. He didn't push for details about how a girl from Ohio ended up drawing highly inappropriate portraits of her father's closest friend.

Amara wanted to disappear. Julian, meanwhile, looked entirely too calm for someone who had just dragged her into emotional chaos before lunch. --- By the time they reached class, the hallway had already decided a storyline. Phones were out. Whispers followed. Someone had already titled a post: “JULIAN REYES FINALLY CHOSE SOMEONE?” Amara walked faster. Julian matched her pace easily. “You’re not affected by this at all?” she asked quietly. “I am.” “You don’t look like it.”

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back with passion. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a lone figure across the street through the snow. Julian. He watched us, eyes red. In the end, he turned and disappeared into the storm. Maybe he finally understood. The little girl who once needed rescue had grown strong enough and never needed him again—she had found her true freedom.

He looked at me, a silent question in his eyes. ​"Ready to be a nobody?" I asked, a small smile playing on my lips. ​Julian stood up, offering me his hand, his eyes burning with a light that had nothing to do with code. ​"With you? I’ve never felt more like a somebody."

"If you stay, you’ll disappear too. Go! Get Bianca and David! Run!" Julian glanced at the stairs, then back at Maya. He saw the woman he’d fought for, over and over, in every world. The doctor. The girl he loved. He didn’t run. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the old wooden pen. It was snapped in half, but a drop of purple ink clung to the tip. "If the story’s ending," Julian said, his face set, "then I’m writing the next part." He didn’t draw a door. He didn’t draw a shield.