Next Cath took out a framed photo of their dad, the one that had always sat on their dresser back home. It was an especially handsome photo, taken on his wedding day. He was young and smiling, and wearing a little sunflower on his lapel. Cath set it on the shelf above her desk.
Then she set out a picture from prom, of her and Abel. Cath was wearing a shimmering green dress, and Abel had a matching cummerbund. It was a good picture of Cath, even though her face looked naked and flat without her glasses. And it was a good picture of Abel, even though he looked bored.
He always looked kind of bored.
Cath probably should have texted Abel by now, just to tell him that she'd made itbut she wanted to wait until she felt more breezy and nonchalant. You can't take back texts. If you come off all moody and melancholy in a text, it just sits there in your phone, reminding you of what a drag you are.
At the bottom of the box were Cath's Simon and Baz posters. She laid these out on her bed carefullya few were originals, drawn or painted just for Cath. She'd have to choose her favorites; there wasn't room for them all on the corkboard, and Cath had already decided not to hang any on the walls, out where God and everybody would notice them.
She picked out three.
Simon raising the Sword of Mages. Baz lounging on a fanged black throne. The two of them walking together through whirling gold leaves, scarves whipping in the wind.
There were a few more things left in the boxa dried corsage, a ribbon Wren had given her that said CLEAN PLATE CLUB, commemorative busts of Simon and Baz that she'd ordered from the Noble Collection.
Cath found a place for everything, then sat in the beat-up wooden desk chair. If she sat right here, with her back to Reagan's bare walls and boxes, it almost felt like home.
Oldest romance writer in the world dies aged 105. Books #124 and #125 to be published next year(Dec 10 2013) Ida Pollock, author of more than 120 books, and believed to be the world's oldest romantic novelist, has died at the age of 105.