“Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are”
-Mason Cooley
Darkness Rising by Kelley Armstrong – 9 years
I sit on the porch, the splintered and aged wood beneath me, poking me through the thin polyester material of my plaid capri’s. My small hand comes up before me to turn the page and I find myself focusing on the chipped pink nail polish embedded with glitter. I hold my hand over the page longer than needed as my vision swims out of focus once more. Vision cloudy from the tears I can just barely hold back. I look past the novel in my hand, and catch sight of my siblings playing without me. The lump sits in the back of my throat as I move my hand and focus on the page once more. I didn’t care. I didn’t need to play with them.
Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas - 11 years
The hard plastic seat makes my bottom ache. Leaning against the wooden table grants me my only reprieve. The small book lays on the table before me, one hand holding the book open while the other is tucked beneath my bottom, a makeshift cushion. The roar of the cafeteria around me becomes background noise as I turn the page once more and attempt to ignore the empty seats all around me.
Harry Potter by J.K Rowling – 13 years
I lay on my tummy with my legs swinging behind me, my third re-positioning that night. Why was it so hard to get comfortable when reading? Or better yet, why was it so hard to stay comfortable? My small giggle at a joke made by Fred is hidden behind the sound of my parents yelling on the other side of my closed door.
The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare – 17 years
The corduroy material of the couch feels firm beneath the palm of my hand, and scratchy against the backs of my thighs. Blocking out the noise of the party around me is second nature. I rub one hand against the fur of the couch toying with the material between my fingers as the other hand holds my phone in it. Three fingers against the back, with my pinky tucked beneath and my thumb scrolling to the next page. Every few moments I glance up from my phone to find my friend in the crowd, which proves to be a task as she migrates to a new location every glance. A social butterfly blossoming in her truest element. The couple making out on the far end of the couch grow wilder as they begin to jostle the couch all the way down to my end. I feel my face grow hot as the attention they garner begins to leak over to me in the form of lingering glances.
Was it my shoes? Did my makeup look okay? Did I have a bald spot coming in on the crown of my head? A seemingly inconspicuous hand makes its way through my locks and some methodical scalp rubbing dissipates that idea. The words on the dimly lit phone before me begin to blur and my heart flutters as I begin to look up.
“Get a room guys, come on get off my couch.” The beckoning comes from a guy standing in front of me, effectively blocking me from the line of sight of the onlookers. “Not a room here though,” he adds. The crowd of people laugh as they begin to dissipate and he waves the couple up and away from his couch.
I lean back onto the couch, resting my head against the plush upper back portion. I place my phone on my lap and bring my hand up to rub my eyes, careful not to smudge the delicately placed makeup. A respite, from the rush of anxiety I had wrought onto myself, albeit a short one as the words, “A book? At a party really?” pull me back down to earth. I lower my hand to see the same guy crouched before me now. He moves to plop down on the couch beside me and grabs the phone balancing on my knee. My heart flutters for a different reason entirely.
Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo – Audiobook – 18 years
I stand on a train, wedged between an older woman and one of the freshmen at my school. Jostling into them whenever it jerked to a stop. I can see them, through the throngs of people. I see him. With his arm wrapped around her waist as she leans into him. Whispering into her ear as her face contorts into an insufferable smile. He smiles down at her and my heart thrums. He glances up and our eyes lock. I look away. Turning up the volume of the book blaring through my ears.
The Nine Lives of Chloe King by Liz Braswell – 18 years
I glance up from the book laid out in front of me as the door to the lecture hall opens and people begin to file in. I keep my head down as I hear the laughs and conversation of friends and acquaintances reunite, pleasantries and small talk taking place all around me. A breathless girl plops down beside me, I make a note of all the empty seats around us.
“Hi. I’m Alice, what’s your name?”
Two For the Dough by Janet Evanovich- 19 years
I lay on the small twin bed, with a pillow on my lap and the book propped atop it. I snort at the joke on the page in front of me. The dark humor was starting to grow on me. I spare a glance to my best friend sitting on her side of the dorm. Immersed in one of the many assignments she had due. My eyes flicker to my corkboard, overflowing with pending assignments. I turn back to the pages in front of me and turn the page once more.
