This is a rough draft. It has undergone little editing and no re-writes. Enjoy as this story comes together. 

“I don’t get it. How is Lyn always in the Ten now?” Wilona gasped through heavy breaths. She and Edmund were collapsed in the grass after another hard run.

“Maybe she’s always been better than us but hung back for our charming company,” said Edmund.

“Maybe. I’m starting to think we won’t make the Ten.”

“It’s the ‘Nine’ now.”

“What?”

“Odion always leads the team, and since Dr. Edden brought him in personally, it’s pretty obvious he has a slot.”

“Shit,” Wilona groaned and rolled over on her chest and stretched.

“There’s still the wild-card entry,” said Edmund.

“Right. Sure. A one in sixty chance. Besides, we can’t both get in on the wild-card.”

“Well… The scholarship is only for one as it is. And there’s still one more year,” Edmund said, failing to hide any worry in his voice. Wilona took fistfuls of grass and awkwardly threw them into the ailing breeze.

––––––

Odion paused at the Huber gates. Dr. Edden had fallen behind to run with a pack that seemed to need the motivation. The next closest runner was far down the hill, over half a kilometer away. Remembering that Dr. Edden wanted a word, he elected to return to his place under an old Oak in the courtyard.

Before long, the second-place runner came jogging through the gate. She was a firmly built blonde that had consistently been among the few trying to keep up with Odi. He was impressed that she’d taken lead behind him.

She spotted him. Odi tried to look busy with his book but was sure he’d been noticed eyeing her. Even worse, she made a heading towards him.

“Good run,” She said when she was close enough.

“You, too,” Odi replied.

“Name’s Lyn,” she said.

“Err. Odi.”

Lyn shuffled her feet a bit and glanced back at the gate. When no one came through she turned back.

“Look, I don’t know if Wilona told you ...” Odi felt his insides twist to the sound of her name. “… but a lot of people aren’t happy you’re here.”

The twisting ceased immediately and was replaced with icy unease. Odi set his book down.

“What?”

“You should go run for your own school. Don’t get in the way of our scholarship.”

Odi saw nothing but serious intent in Lyn’s eyes.

“I understand,” Odi said as he stood. “My being here cuts in on your chances, right?”

“Exactly. You don’t go here. You shouldn’t take something deserved by someone else.”

Odi was fully ready to let her storm off in a huff, but she didn’t. She stood there, staring. Calculating. Waiting for his response. His mind reeled briefly but he rustled it back to the moment.

“Dr. Edden brought me here… because she thinks I deserve the chance. The Allerton Scholarship isn't offered at my school. In fact, I’m their only Runner.”

He bent down to retrieve his book from the grass but mostly to formulate the next sentence before rising to meet her eyes.

“You all run for the chance at the money. I run because I love it. You tell me who’s more deserving.”

To Odi’s surprise, Lyn smiled.

–––––

Odi paced outside Ksiazki Books. Was that some kind of test? Lyn’s words rattled in his head. He had obsessed over them all the way to shop. Realizing this, he cursed the missed opportunity to let his mind wander into the more entertaining gardens of his stories. It was bad enough that Wilona plagued his thoughts as much as she did. He had to find something about her. Something that would break the hold she had on his thoughts. He tried to pin any trait he could think of that would break the spell. Maybe she was racist. Maybe she wasn’t into guys. Maybe she didn’t like to read— Odi shuddered. If she didn’t like books… the other thoughts were unfortunate but somehow didn’t feel quite so personal of an affront.

Odi froze. He turned to find Mr. Ujazdowski staring wide-eyed through the from door of his shop.

“Odi, if you don’t quit pacing and get your ass in here, I’m gonna glue a sign to your back and make you pace on the street corner!”

–––––

Odi, now dressed in his work uniform (a canvas apron with the image of a book roughly sewn into the front,) sat on the rolling ladder and was dusting some of the lesser-browsed volumes. He hadn’t yet made it to any of the volumes up this high. Though, upon further inspection, he realized they were primarily encyclopedias and ancient atlases.

“Mr. Ujazdowski? Why do you keep these, err, reference books?”

From far in the back came Ujazdowski’s reply.

“Even I run into something I don’t know on occasion.”

“Well, sure, but all of this is on the internet.”

“Not all of it. If a book was written in the 18th century, it’s nice to have references written in the same context.”

Mr. Ujazdowski’s head appeared around the corner.

The internet is part of the new world. I’m a relic.”

“I didn’t mean—”

Ujazdowski laughed.

“I appreciate the sympathy but that’s not what I’m asking for. I’m saying that the world is yours. We old fogeys’ job now is to help you do what you want. Not to insert our outdated ideas. Of course, that doesn’t mean we won’t shove it in your face if you start to repeat our mistakes.”

The brass bell over the front door as someone stepped through.

“Dust those well,” Ujazdowski said. “They deserve your respect. Now, I’m gonna go freak out some new customers.”

Odi shook his head and turned back to the books. Ujazdowski’s voice wound through the aisles.

“What are you looking for– oh, it’s you again. Finished already?”

“What can I say? I’m a quick study,” said a boy’s voice. Something itched in Odi’s mind.

“Was that a pun? I don’t like puns.”

“I uh– no, sir. I just–”

“I’m just messing with you. Ought to be used to that by now.”

“I’ve been here three times.”

“I know! That’s more than most people. Anyway, got just the book for you.”

Curiosity swelled inside Odi. He slid quietly down the ladder and edged along the shelf until he could peer through a gap of smaller books.

It was Edmund. Mr. Ujazdowski returned with a small brownish book in his hand.

“Here you go. An Islamic boy falls for a Jewish girl he sees at a market.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“Don’t be smart. I can’t tell you anymore. If I do, you’ll be expecting it. Just trust me.”

Odi seized the chance. He rounded the shelf into sight.

“Trust him, Edmund. He knows books and the people who read them.”

Edmund raised an eyebrow. If he was surprised to see Odi working there, he was masterful at hiding it.

“Thanks, Odion,” Edmund said. Edmund passed Ujazdowski some money and turned to the door.

“See you at practice,” Edmund said and before Odi could respond, he closed the door.

Ujazdowski turned.

“I’m not sure he likes you, Odi.”

“Yeah… seems to be my thing lately.”

–––––

Edmund stepped through the stoop to find Wilona leaning against the brick and watching an old couple cross the street.

“Hey Wil.”

“Find a book?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let’s go then.”

“Wil. Odion works there.”

Wilona’s hair somehow managed to poof out even more.

“What?!”

“Want to go in and talk?”

“I— I,” was all Wilona could stammer.

“He works at a bookstore. What are you waiting for?”

But what she was waiting for would have to wait as Odi stepped out the front door of Ksiazaki Books. It was fortunate he didn’t see them until after he’d descended the stairs or the sudden weakness in his knees might have been more problematic. Wilona found her voice first.

“Hey, Odi,” Wilona said.

“Hey, Wilona,” Odi said.

Edmund glanced between the other two. He rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Edmund,” Edmund said.

They both started and looked at him.

“Odi, you walking somewhere? We could join you,” Edmund said.

“Uh, sure. I usually wander the city on Fridays after work.”

“Great,” Edmund said. When none of them moved, he placed his hand in the middle of Wilona’s back and gave her a firm shove up the sidewalk. Odi took a few long-legged strides to catch up.

They walked in complete silence, to Edmunds annoyance. After only three minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“‘Odi! You work at a book store? That’s so weird because I read books!’,” Edmund said in a tone remarkably close to Wilona’s textured clarity. He turned to Wilona and dropped his voice to the lowest octave he was physically capable.

“‘That’s amazing, Wil! Golly I sure love reading! I have a book tucked in my sock at all times!’”

Wilona’s face somehow became both flushed and pale. Odi’s eyes briefly glazed before he shook himself from whatever reverie he had journeyed down.

“What are reading?” Odi asked.

“Huh?” Wilona rounded on him more confrontationally than she meant.

“Uh. What books? Are you reading anything interesting?”

“Oh. Um,” Wilona paused for a breath. “The last one was a thief dressed as a priest who trains kids in a corrupted city to steal from the wealthy.”

Odi’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! Yeah? I’ve read that one. Where it jumps between the past and the present?”

“Yeah! It’s a neat way to tell a story.”

“That’s what makes good stories great, the way they are told.”

And they were off. Edmund smiled to himself and slipped slightly behind them, watching the snowball cascade. It might take them a while to reach the bottom of the hill, he thought, but this was a good start.

After an hour that felt like minutes, they had arrived at the edge of Wilona and Edmund’s neighborhood. They said their farewells. Odi was unsurprised by the towering brick and old trees. Huber students tended to be from the carefully pruned neighborhoods.

He marked the area on his mental map and began jogging towards his own street.

Edmund walked Wilona to her door without a single comment. He just grinned maliciously at her. She punched his shoulder. As Edmund turned to walk away, She noticed a gray envelope that had been slipped into the seam of the front door.

“Edmund.”

Edmund stopped and turned back. Wilona held the envelope out to him but her eyes were fixed down and the ground. Edmund took it and read the front.

To Wilona H.

From James P.

Edmund looked back at her but Wilona stood frozen in place. Edmund slipped the flap open and read:

Hey there Willona,

Consider this my formal request for you to join me at the upcoming Winter Formal. If you refuse, you’ll be missing out on the night of lovely merryment. If you agree, leave a note in my locker before next Friday. I look forward to your response.

—James

Wilona felt like she was going to be sick.

“He misspelled your name,” Edmund said, “and ‘merriment.’”

Her head swam with a sickening blend of disgust, anger, and pity.

“How— How can guys be so thick headed?” Wilona shouted.

“You know why.”

“I know but hasn’t anyone bothered to explain to them why that’s wrong? I mean, you turned out ok.”

“Through lots of failures, yes. I harassed you pretty badly.”

“But that was before you recognized you were gay.”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

Wilona collapsed against the wall with a massive sigh. Edmund mulled his thoughts slowly.

“You don’t have to give him a chance,” he said. “You don’t have to do anything, but right now you’re in his sights. You have a chance to shove him down the gravel road of growth. Maybe the next girl he’s interested, one who maybe isn’t as smart or as strong as you, won’t have to be harassed.”

Wilona met Edmund’s eyes.

“We,” she said. “We have a chance. I’ll need your help.”

“Well duh. Like I’d miss the chance.”