Post by SomethingAboutTheStars on Feb 28, 2012 23:11:42 GMT -5
Hey! How pathetic. We're not even halfway through. It'll be halfway...at chapter...18 and 1/2. Stick with me! I'll try and post every two days. Thanks for reading! Comments appreciated, though actually, I'm going to get picky. The thing is, for those telling me to keep going, I am, the stories done, it's just a matter of me posting or not. So, that's really not needed. It was nice when I was in the middle of writing it, but it's just unnecessary now and a waste of your time if you type that. I'd love some criticism or telling me your favorite parts or chapters and such.
I'm sorry for sounding like a brat.
Thanks for everything. <3
Stara
“Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you,” I say to Greyson over the phone. The smile he’s wearing is easily heard in his voice.
“Really? What are we doing?” he asks.
“I’m not telling.”
“Why not?”
“Simple logic, Greyson. If I told, it wouldn’t be a surprise. And that’s an awful line. Used way too many times,” I tell him.
“Alright then. When’s this surprise?”
I’m about to open my mouth to protest the question, but he talks again.
“I said when, not what.”
“I knew that,” I tell him. No. I didn’t.
“Just clarifying. So, why don’t you answer the question?”
“Fine. Meet me at the bookstore I work at in half an hour.”
“See you there.” I hear the smile in voice again. Even when I can’t see it, it warms me like someone has lit a fire beneath my feet.
Greyson has two coffees when he comes to meet me. Or so, two hot drinks in coffee cups. They steam and he’s wearing a scarf, a tie, and a black leather jacket. His black converse look like flipped Dalmatians—the snow was spotting them with white.
“It’s hot chocolate,” he promises as he nears me. I blush, hoping my face wasn’t twisting rudely.
“Thank you,” I smile at him.
He grins back and hands me one cup, taking the other and sipping it. He scuffs his shoes against the ground to knock the snow from his shoes.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say, and tug him out the door. We wave down a cab and climb in. Just like Greyson did on our first date, I slipped the driver a card instead of saying out loud where to go. He nodded.
“You sneak,” Greyson smiles at me.
“I learn from the best,” I grin back.
Lorence takes us the subway. There, we board a train. And I still have no idea where we’re going. She tells me on the train—she can’t hold herself together while keeping a secret very well. She tells me we’re going to a museum. We cross the street and walk a few blocks to get to an apartment complex. I give the area a quick scan and see that we’re in New York’s Diamond District. My face must have turned skeptical, because Lorence keeps assuring me that it’s a museum. I say that I never doubted it.
She pushed open the door to the apartment; it’s a long hall and then elevators. Lorence takes taps the up button, and when we’re inside, she hits the penthouse level.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
She only grins at me.
The doors open and we walk down another hallway, turn left and then Lorence knocks on a glass door that’s blurry so I can’t see in. I want to ask so many questions, like an ignorant child. But I don’t need to wait long. There’s a click and then the doors open inward.
“Welcome to the book museum,” she smiles.
The book museum is one of my favorite places. It’s run by Barney’s half-brother cousin once removed something or other, I’m not really sure, but they’re related in one way or another. Greyson’s looking around and I’m beaming.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Greyson stares around. I give him some slack though; the first time I came I was speechless for what seemed like hours. And when I did talk, or attempted to, it was more of “Ah, ah,” stuttering. Barney took me my first time, and I remember him freaking out and waving his hands in my face. He even bought an ice water. I caught his hand before he dumped it on me.
I will admit it’s really a nerdy place. There are books and books lining the walls like a bookstore, but there aren’t more than two copies on the shelves. But it’s not only books. There’s tables and cases filled with other nerdy things—book merchandise. It’s split into four different rooms, the main room where you walk in, the movie/books, the fan bases, and the small café. The movie books feature books that were turned into movies, both successfully and unsuccessful. Besides that room, the fan base room is my favorite. Barney took me there and showed me all the wonderful things fans had made for my book. They feature different new and popular books every two weeks, and at the time, it was my book. I was so ridiculously proud. Though it’s not the main feature, all the fan made things can be seen in the archives. It’s another room extended off the fan base room. It goes down stairs onto another level. As does the movie/book room.
I turn to look at Greyson. He looks like he can barely breathe.
“It’s amazing,” he says.
“I hoped you’d like it,” I grinned.
“It’s amazing,” he repeats.
“Come on,” I laugh. And I pull him through the rooms. We start with the main room, I lead him through the labyrinth of book shelves. We decide to come back later. I lead him to the movie/book room. He pulls out a book—Into the Wild by John Krakauer.
“I read that one in my freshman year,” I tell him. “We watched the movie—but I liked the book better.”
“The book is excellent,” Greyson agrees. He runs his hands over the cover.
“Want to see my favorite thing?”
Greyson smiles. We weave through the tables and stands of props, and I slide behind a bookshelf and then into a back room.
“You have to be a pirate to find this place,” I say.
“What?”
“You’ll see.” I pull out a heavy book and a door creaks open. I wave my hand at him to go inside.
“Wow!” he exclaims.
“See what I mean?” I follow Greyson into the room and close the door by lifting another thick book from the shelf. The room is decorated gold and red and dark chestnut brown. There’s one window on the left side when you walk in. The walls are painted vibrant red with golden tattoos of leaves patterning across the wall. Our feet tap on the chestnut wooden floors. Shelves make more walls. Greyson wants to weave through them and check out the books, but I take his hand and lead him to the back wall. There’s another door, dark chestnut like the floors, painted so it looks like a bookshelf. I push this open and we are in the prop room.
“This is the Pirate Prop Room,” I say, trying to use my best tour voice. “Nice ring to it, huh?”
Greyson’s eyes open wide. He walks forward and places his hand on a glass case holding a sword. It was in the movie Vampirates.
“A rapier, to be exact,” I tell him. I smile. There’s only one reason I know what this sword is. Stephen loves rapiers for some reason. “There’s more.” I point to the corner of this room, where two more glass cases with the thin metal blades. There’s a shelf above our heads. It’s lined with nets, treasure chests, and bottles from movies. I breathe deeply. It even smells salty in here.
“This is really cool,” Greyson says.
“And so nerdy,” I add.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Greyson counters.
I chuckle, accepting it. He laughs too. I like how he laughs—it’s musical, light, joking. It’s kind of comforting. I run my hands over the wooden walls, breathing in the scent of the ocean. My fingers cross the spines of all the pirate related books.
“I love this place,” I sigh.
“I can tell,” Greyson smiles. “What do you like about it?”
I turn and look at him. Thoughts begin to whir. Nobody has asked that before. It’s like asking Greyson why he likes playing piano. There’s just something I’m drawn to.
“You mean besides the nerd factor?”
“Yes, besides that,” he grins.
“Well,” I tap my chin, “I lie that when books become just a faint memory, when crazy e-readers and everything have overtaken the world that this will be here. And it will truly become a museum”
“I asked for an e-reader for—“
“Your fourteenth birthday. I remember.” I smile at him. “I remember being thoroughly disappointed that I didn’t have enough money to buy and send you one.”
“E-readers can’t be all that bad, right? I don’t think mine is terrible.”
“No. It’s just against my inner morals to read from a screen, I prefer paper.” I turn to stare at his brown eyes. I finish my reasoning for why I love this place so much. “I like that when the books are all gone and our children ask what a book was, we can still show them.”
“Our children?” Greyson raises his eyebrows teasingly.
Heat rushes to my face. “I meant the children of the world! The next generation, or something!”
Greyson cracks up. “I know, I know. So do you really believe that books are going to go extinct?”
I dip my head, shrugging my shoulders. Suddenly I feel embarrassed. “Well, I guess it’s kind of an irrational fear of mine. With all this screen reading and such, I know it’s the future. I know that it won’t be the same.”
“Well, how about we don’t let books die, okay?” Greyson suggests.
“Deal,” I say. “But don’t you dare slack on me.”
“Promise.”
I stare into his eyes for security and assurance, and I find exactly what I need. “Promise,” I repeat.
I'm sorry for sounding like a brat.
Thanks for everything. <3
Stara
Chapter 15
Lorence
“Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you,” I say to Greyson over the phone. The smile he’s wearing is easily heard in his voice.
“Really? What are we doing?” he asks.
“I’m not telling.”
“Why not?”
“Simple logic, Greyson. If I told, it wouldn’t be a surprise. And that’s an awful line. Used way too many times,” I tell him.
“Alright then. When’s this surprise?”
I’m about to open my mouth to protest the question, but he talks again.
“I said when, not what.”
“I knew that,” I tell him. No. I didn’t.
“Just clarifying. So, why don’t you answer the question?”
“Fine. Meet me at the bookstore I work at in half an hour.”
“See you there.” I hear the smile in voice again. Even when I can’t see it, it warms me like someone has lit a fire beneath my feet.
Greyson has two coffees when he comes to meet me. Or so, two hot drinks in coffee cups. They steam and he’s wearing a scarf, a tie, and a black leather jacket. His black converse look like flipped Dalmatians—the snow was spotting them with white.
“It’s hot chocolate,” he promises as he nears me. I blush, hoping my face wasn’t twisting rudely.
“Thank you,” I smile at him.
He grins back and hands me one cup, taking the other and sipping it. He scuffs his shoes against the ground to knock the snow from his shoes.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say, and tug him out the door. We wave down a cab and climb in. Just like Greyson did on our first date, I slipped the driver a card instead of saying out loud where to go. He nodded.
“You sneak,” Greyson smiles at me.
“I learn from the best,” I grin back.
Greyson
Lorence takes us the subway. There, we board a train. And I still have no idea where we’re going. She tells me on the train—she can’t hold herself together while keeping a secret very well. She tells me we’re going to a museum. We cross the street and walk a few blocks to get to an apartment complex. I give the area a quick scan and see that we’re in New York’s Diamond District. My face must have turned skeptical, because Lorence keeps assuring me that it’s a museum. I say that I never doubted it.
She pushed open the door to the apartment; it’s a long hall and then elevators. Lorence takes taps the up button, and when we’re inside, she hits the penthouse level.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
She only grins at me.
The doors open and we walk down another hallway, turn left and then Lorence knocks on a glass door that’s blurry so I can’t see in. I want to ask so many questions, like an ignorant child. But I don’t need to wait long. There’s a click and then the doors open inward.
“Welcome to the book museum,” she smiles.
Lorence
The book museum is one of my favorite places. It’s run by Barney’s half-brother cousin once removed something or other, I’m not really sure, but they’re related in one way or another. Greyson’s looking around and I’m beaming.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Greyson stares around. I give him some slack though; the first time I came I was speechless for what seemed like hours. And when I did talk, or attempted to, it was more of “Ah, ah,” stuttering. Barney took me my first time, and I remember him freaking out and waving his hands in my face. He even bought an ice water. I caught his hand before he dumped it on me.
I will admit it’s really a nerdy place. There are books and books lining the walls like a bookstore, but there aren’t more than two copies on the shelves. But it’s not only books. There’s tables and cases filled with other nerdy things—book merchandise. It’s split into four different rooms, the main room where you walk in, the movie/books, the fan bases, and the small café. The movie books feature books that were turned into movies, both successfully and unsuccessful. Besides that room, the fan base room is my favorite. Barney took me there and showed me all the wonderful things fans had made for my book. They feature different new and popular books every two weeks, and at the time, it was my book. I was so ridiculously proud. Though it’s not the main feature, all the fan made things can be seen in the archives. It’s another room extended off the fan base room. It goes down stairs onto another level. As does the movie/book room.
I turn to look at Greyson. He looks like he can barely breathe.
“It’s amazing,” he says.
“I hoped you’d like it,” I grinned.
“It’s amazing,” he repeats.
“Come on,” I laugh. And I pull him through the rooms. We start with the main room, I lead him through the labyrinth of book shelves. We decide to come back later. I lead him to the movie/book room. He pulls out a book—Into the Wild by John Krakauer.
“I read that one in my freshman year,” I tell him. “We watched the movie—but I liked the book better.”
“The book is excellent,” Greyson agrees. He runs his hands over the cover.
“Want to see my favorite thing?”
Greyson smiles. We weave through the tables and stands of props, and I slide behind a bookshelf and then into a back room.
“You have to be a pirate to find this place,” I say.
“What?”
“You’ll see.” I pull out a heavy book and a door creaks open. I wave my hand at him to go inside.
“Wow!” he exclaims.
“See what I mean?” I follow Greyson into the room and close the door by lifting another thick book from the shelf. The room is decorated gold and red and dark chestnut brown. There’s one window on the left side when you walk in. The walls are painted vibrant red with golden tattoos of leaves patterning across the wall. Our feet tap on the chestnut wooden floors. Shelves make more walls. Greyson wants to weave through them and check out the books, but I take his hand and lead him to the back wall. There’s another door, dark chestnut like the floors, painted so it looks like a bookshelf. I push this open and we are in the prop room.
“This is the Pirate Prop Room,” I say, trying to use my best tour voice. “Nice ring to it, huh?”
Greyson’s eyes open wide. He walks forward and places his hand on a glass case holding a sword. It was in the movie Vampirates.
“A rapier, to be exact,” I tell him. I smile. There’s only one reason I know what this sword is. Stephen loves rapiers for some reason. “There’s more.” I point to the corner of this room, where two more glass cases with the thin metal blades. There’s a shelf above our heads. It’s lined with nets, treasure chests, and bottles from movies. I breathe deeply. It even smells salty in here.
“This is really cool,” Greyson says.
“And so nerdy,” I add.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Greyson counters.
I chuckle, accepting it. He laughs too. I like how he laughs—it’s musical, light, joking. It’s kind of comforting. I run my hands over the wooden walls, breathing in the scent of the ocean. My fingers cross the spines of all the pirate related books.
“I love this place,” I sigh.
“I can tell,” Greyson smiles. “What do you like about it?”
I turn and look at him. Thoughts begin to whir. Nobody has asked that before. It’s like asking Greyson why he likes playing piano. There’s just something I’m drawn to.
“You mean besides the nerd factor?”
“Yes, besides that,” he grins.
“Well,” I tap my chin, “I lie that when books become just a faint memory, when crazy e-readers and everything have overtaken the world that this will be here. And it will truly become a museum”
“I asked for an e-reader for—“
“Your fourteenth birthday. I remember.” I smile at him. “I remember being thoroughly disappointed that I didn’t have enough money to buy and send you one.”
“E-readers can’t be all that bad, right? I don’t think mine is terrible.”
“No. It’s just against my inner morals to read from a screen, I prefer paper.” I turn to stare at his brown eyes. I finish my reasoning for why I love this place so much. “I like that when the books are all gone and our children ask what a book was, we can still show them.”
“Our children?” Greyson raises his eyebrows teasingly.
Heat rushes to my face. “I meant the children of the world! The next generation, or something!”
Greyson cracks up. “I know, I know. So do you really believe that books are going to go extinct?”
I dip my head, shrugging my shoulders. Suddenly I feel embarrassed. “Well, I guess it’s kind of an irrational fear of mine. With all this screen reading and such, I know it’s the future. I know that it won’t be the same.”
“Well, how about we don’t let books die, okay?” Greyson suggests.
“Deal,” I say. “But don’t you dare slack on me.”
“Promise.”
I stare into his eyes for security and assurance, and I find exactly what I need. “Promise,” I repeat.