Home>>read The Girl Who Would Be King free online

The Girl Who Would Be King(50)

By:Kelly Thompson


“Oh,” she says, her voice falling. He backtracks slightly, I hope just out of kindness.

“Um…I mean, no books for me today,” he says casually.

Her voice brightens, but just slightly. “Oh, yeah, sure. Well, come back soon,” she says. I clench my fists.

“Okay…yeah, sure,” he says, and then from a further distance, “See ya.” His footsteps carry him swiftly away. I can’t help but smile. He doesn’t like her. Even though she’s pretty and normal and everything he should probably want. I breathe out and close my eyes. I don’t know why I care so much, but it’s suddenly all I can think about, superpowers or no, my whole brain is filled with thoughts of Clark. And some strange hopefulness about his interest in me – even though I’m afraid he’ll figure out where he’s seen me before.



The next time I run into Clark there’s no escaping because we end up in the same aisle, me with an armload of textbooks. I see him and my face must do something between lighting up and panicking, but it feels horribly strange and I turn frantically on my heel to flee but realize there’s no way out, unless I want to plunge through the solid concrete wall, which I could maybe do, and which seems almost reasonable right now.

“Hi,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. I wouldn’t know as the world has entirely dropped away from me and I can’t feel my feet or the fingers that are surely attached to my hands, let alone the pile of books I hope stay in said non-existent fingers. I’ve forgotten what language is, all that exists are those warm brown eyes with glittering green flecks that look so deep into me I feel like one of us is sure to drown. He’s pausing a long time, probably waiting for me to say something, but since I’ve forgotten what language is and can’t remember if I have a tongue, I can’t come up with anything. “Um, I’m Clark,” he says thrusting out his hand. I blink at his hand a second and then drop all the books on the floor and take it gently, trying to be the graceful Bonnie and not the Hulk Bonnie. His eyes are big and his mouth is smiling at the pile of books and his hand is big and warm and a little bit soft, but rough around the edges. I shake it calmly, as if my whole world isn’t exploding with delight. He’s paused again, but I’m still without words. I rack my brain for what I’m supposed to say.

“Bonnie,” I finally manage.

“Bonnie,” he says, as if seriously considering my name, which is nice. We’re still shaking hands, which is probably weird, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to be the first to let go. “Do, I…have we met before?” he asks, his head cocked slightly to the side. I see that same spark of recognition as he tries again to place me.

“No?” I say, but it comes out as if I’m asking him. He laughs. It’s a big, beautiful laugh that I want to swallow me whole. He’s quiet again, for a long moment, almost like he’s studying me, and then he looks at the books all over the floor and our feet and he chuckles a little.

“Lemmehelpyou,” he says, and it comes out all as one word, which is adorable. He’s nervous too, which makes me feel slightly better and almost glad I opted to NOT break through a wall to escape. We bend down at the same time and narrowly miss butting heads. We fumble about, stacking the books on the small cart and drinking each other in without ever looking at one another. Our hands touch once and I recoil like I’ve touched lightning. When we finally come back up, we barely miss heads again. He stares at me for a minute and his smile makes my kneecaps feel like soup. I’m not entirely sure how I’m still upright.

“I know this is like ridiculously weird and sudden, but…would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asks.

“Tonight,” I say. He laughs again.

“Okay. Yes. Yes, tonight, definitely. When do you get off?”

“Six,” I say.

“Okay, six, yes, six. I’ll meet you here?”

I suddenly think of Erica and her knife-y eyes.

“Outside,” I say.

“Okay,” he says, his smile never diminishing. Everything feels like it’s in slow-motion, like I’m underwater. As if what he might say next is caught up in a wave that I’m waiting to crash, and then it does, but not because he speaks, but because Erica darts into the aisle behind Clark, and shatters the moment as if it had no more power than a faint dream.

“Clark! There you are!” she shouts into the quiet of our aisle and takes Clark’s arm, pulling him out of my orbit, “I found that book you were looking for…C’mon,” and with that, she yanks him away from me. Just as he’s disappearing, he looks back and smiles this massive bright smile and mouths the word SIX, somehow still grinning. I think I smile back, but my insides feel all oatmeal-y, and my face feels like the sun, so I can’t be sure. When he’s gone the world seems smaller somehow. How is it possible to feel this way when I said only four words to him? My whole world is suddenly bathed in color, and I feel alive in places I didn’t know existed.