Part 1

CoL Fan Community #The-Book-Club

Residential Despot - 12/10/2039 6:32pm

Any idea what winter holiday Book celebrates?

Locust 58 (Admin) - 12/10/2039 6:33pm

No clue. Maybe if they did more interviews we'd know?

Thunderskull (He/Him/Daddy) - 12/10/2039 6:34pm

I could ask Book

Default Lode (she/her) - 12/10/2039 6:34pm

What? @Thunderskull Are you saying you know BOok?

Thunderskull (He/Him/Daddy) - 12/10/2039 6:35pm

You could say that...yeah 😏 We live in the same building

Residential Despot - 12/10/2039 6:35pm

Sure you do, Daddy.

It's been a few weeks since I was shot.

This isn't the first time I've thought that sentence, but it is the first time it was so close to Yuletide. The previous times I've been shot were in a laboratory setting, in the spring.

Why is being shot by my former client earlier this month on my mind while I'm staring at weighted blankets and jackets in Lakeline Mall?

Because it's comforting to know that I'm back to being Class S?

Is it because thinking about being shot gets my mind off the fact that people have been taking photos of me and filming me with their phones since I got off my bike in the parking lot?

I wish they'd stop staring, I think to myself.

I had wrongly assumed going to Lakeline Mall in Cedar Park would be far enough removed from Austin proper to free me of the constant attention and stares from strangers.

The area has been considered 'part of North Austin' for decades since the capital absorbed all the surrounding cities. Yet, somehow I still hoped it would be 'far enough' away to help. I'm realizing now that the problem of my notoriety goes far beyond Austin itself. This would probably happen even if I'd flown halfway around the world to do my holiday shopping.

Oh no. Things would be so much worse if I showed up in India to do my shopping. It'd cause an international incident, I'm sure, I chide myself.

Picking presents for people has never been easy for me, which generally makes the holidays a little bit more stressful than they should be. That has combined with the general stress of the fight with Ezekiel, the last couple months recovering from power exhaustion, my Mom's deteriorating health, and again, everyone staring at me anytime I leave my apartment.

So naturally, I've been staring at the same jacket for at least ten minutes which has done nothing to make people stare at me any less. If anything they probably wonder if I died standing up. No one working at this department store has attempted to approach me while I've been meandering through the place, but like everyone else they've snapped photos.

It's taking everything I have not to go incognito.

Being invisible would only make shopping more difficult. Aside from people potentially bumping into me it would look super weird to see my shopping bag bobbing up and down by its lonesome.

Gods, I hate being famous.

"Holy shit, that's Book," someone whispers behind me.

I tense up then make a conscious effort to relax my body, not enough to do anything weird like melt into a puddle on the floor, but enough to not look like the agitated six foot plus guy that I am.

"Go talk to him," someone else whispers. They sound just as young as the first voice, teenagers probably. From the sound of it they're hiding near clothing racks some distance away.

"Are you nuts?" The first voice responds.

"Go do it. I dare you."

I shut my eyes.

Should I say something? Would that make literally everything worse? Would I be in the news again? This was just so much easier when people thought 'Book' was an urban legend instead of accurately knowing they're me.

"Do it. Do it. Do it," a few other voices have chimed in, chanting.

I'm fully shifted right now, albeit in a modified version of my masculine Basic form. My eyes are blue, my hair is black shaved short on the back and sides with the longer portion up top tied into a small ponytail, while my skin is slightly warmer in tone than normal.

Doctor Hailu insisted I stay shifted for a month or two to be sure I was out of my cooldown period. I could have picked a different form after I made the news using this one earlier this month. Again, was shot. The guy who hired me to prove his wife was cheating on him was a walking red flag. She wasn't cheating. He shot me.

I shift a pinhole camera in the back of my head just below my ponytail to get a look behind me. There's a group of about five teens doing a bad job hiding behind a rack of plus size jeans. Four of them are still chanting and nudging their friend, who's a full head shorter than the others. The one being picked on seems terrified, which could just be because I'm standing here.

Again, my reputation isn't the best.

I open my eyes but keep the pinhole camera active.

"Come on, Len, do it or are you a pussy?" The tallest teen chides. "You know the rules for hanging out with us. Do it. It's this, steal a bra, or hit a car in the parking lot."

Len takes a shaky step forward.

I got bullied when I was about their age. It sucks. No one ever tried to force me to break into a car. I could have easily gotten into one, even back then before I had powers. I helped my dad several times when he locked the keys in his truck.

There's no good path right now other than being myself. I turn around just as Len is a few steps behind me. They freeze in the walkway while their companions cower and snicker behind the pants.

"Excuse me," I begin. "Do you know if they have any shift-ready stuff in this place?" I ask.

Len makes a hiccuping squeak noise. Their friends have also stopped laughing.

I lean over a little, not that I need to, and address the other kids. "You do realize I won't be able to look the other way if any of you break into a car, right?"

The teens go pale. Len still hasn't moved. I may have scared them all way more than I meant to.

"And why steal a bra? If you want one, pick one out. I'll pay for it," I add in an effort to break the tension.

To Len's credit they stay put while the rest of their so-called friends scramble away screaming. I finally shift away the camera in the back of my head before letting out a sigh.

"You gonna be ok?" I ask.

Len stares up at me. "Uhhhh."

"Your...uh, friends, just ran off without you. Are you going to be okay? They're not going to ditch you at the mall, are they? Some kids did that to me when I was your age...a few times, actually. Sucked."

"No way," Len says.

"No way you're not okay or no way that didn't happen to me?"

"No fucking way someone ditched Book at the mall," Len says.

I'm just happy words are happening from the kid.

"I wasn't always 'Book,' you know," I explain.

"Right," Len says. "I was four."

I raise an eyebrow. "Fourteen would be pretty young to break into a car, or steal a bra. I know it's not really my place to say 'hang out with better people' or anything. I'm some rando at the mall, but seriously, real friends don't ask you to do things like that. I could tell you didn't want to bother me and they forced you to try."

"Yeah," Len hangs their head. They still haven't moved from where they froze.

I dig around in my jacket pocket, find my wallet and pull it out. I have a few business cards I printed up as a test. When I showed them to Detective Windgate, he advised me to get a second phone number for business instead of putting my personal number on the cards. He also suggested I pick an actual name for my business besides 'Detective Page Simmons: Investigations.' Something that uses 'Book' in it, even.

"Capitalize on your fame, damn it," was how Starling had worded it. Eugene had been much softer.

"Here," I say before handing Len one of the test cards. "If they ditch you and you can't call a parent for a ride or something, give me a call. Shit, this is probably super creepy."

Len takes the card and looks it over. "This doesn't say 'Book' on it."

I wince. "Yeah, it's just a test card. I'm still workshopping the business name."

Len looks over the card more seriously. The fear they had of me seems to be abating, which is nice.

"You should put 'Book' on it somewhere, so people know who you are," they say.

"Everyone knows who I am now, that's the problem," I reply with a pained huff. "But you're right. A few friends of mine said the same thing yesterday."

"You're Book, how is that a problem?" Len asks.

"How scared of me were you until now?"

It seems to dawn on them that yes, two minutes ago they were terrified of me enough to consider breaking into a car or stealing instead of talking to me.

"Oh."

"Yeah, it's not just you," I say.

I really don't want to contribute to the urban legend that 'Book eats children' by talking to Len any longer than I have to but I also want to make sure they get home safely.

"You have an adult you can call?" I ask. "I don't like that your friends chickened out and ran."

"They act tough but they're kinda jerks," Len says. "I'm supposed to meet my Uncle Vicente in a bit. I'll give him a call."

I know a Vicente. He usually goes by 'Thunderskull.'

I keep an eye out for Len's friends while they call their Uncle. There's no sign of them but a few people who work in the store have been filming the whole incident by the looks of it. None of them look alarmed, at least. No one's calling the cops.

"He says to meet him in the food court," Len says. "He's gotta take my cousin to see Santa."

"Sounds good."

Len looks down. "I know they suck."

I raise an eyebrow.

"My friends. I know they're not really my friends. I'm just scared of them not liking me," Len says.

Gods, do I know that feeling.

"Well, seems to me you're pretty brave. You talked to me, after all. That's more than anyone else in this mall has managed," I say.

Len nods. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?"

"You did. You're a brave kid."

"You don't eat people, do you?"

I laugh nervously. "No. I don't know how that one got started."

I know exactly how that one got started. The movie was terrible. Hilariously bad. I watched it five times the week it came out.

They flip the business card over in their hand. "Can...can I keep this?"

"Sure."

***

Shopping gets a little easier after my encounter with Len. If a fourteen year old can be brave enough to talk to me rather than run away with the bunch of jerks who ditched them then I sure as Hel can do my holiday shopping while countless people stare at me like I'm a zoo animal.

I've got this.

"Can I say it has been an honor to have you shopping with us, Book?" The cashier at the Bivium Books says. If they weren't hunched over they might be close to my height. "I mean, 'Book buying Bivium Books' books,' just kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

Not really. It seems a bit repetitive.

"Well..."

"I'm so sorry, you've probably had everyone talking your ear off today," the cashier says quickly. They tidy their beard for the eleventh time then switch to straightening their short brown hair.

"Not really," I reply. "Most people have been scared...I think."

"Honestly, I've been a big fan for years," they say. "Maybe some people are just overwhelmed when a celebrity shows up?"

"I'm not used to being a celebrity and I'm used to being a lot of things," I reply.

"Are you single?" They ask, far more hope in their voice than I'm comfortable with.

"I'm shopping."

"Oh, shit, right," the cashier nods. "Sorry, again, huge fan."

They pet their long fluffy beard again and manage to push it just far enough out of the way for me to catch sight of a name tag that reads, "Righteous He/Him."

"May I have the books I just bought, Righteous? They're gifts."

"Oh, yes, right away, sorry again," he says as a blush spreads across his pale cheeks. I hear him whisper, "She said my name."

I hope Righteous doesn't take it personally that I get out of Bivium Books fast enough to leave a contrail. The store had a nice selection. I do plan to come back to it at some point in my life. Not any time soon, but someday.

Sure, it was brave of him to ask if I was single but I am not interested in anyone right now. Interesting choice to refer to me as 'she' when I'm assigned male and have been working on growing a goatee, but I am flexible. At least he didn't seem to be doing it maliciously.

No, that guy was way too into me, I think with a shudder.