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Rough Around the Hedges Snippet
🕑 Added 2023-05-25 01:10:10 +0000 UTCI'm deep in the editing cave and I hate it. People keep interrupting me, demanding things like "food" and asking me to "pay bills" and drive people places. It's always really hard to get back into editing brain, so this vexes me deeply. This, my friends, is why writing retreats are awesome.
Did I mention that I get really whiny/irritable when I'm editing?
I'm not sure if I'll get to a chapter of BTLN this week. Editing eats my brain and I'm really trying to wrangle this book and hand it off. To placate you, I want to share a snippet of a new scene I added to Rough Around the Hedges this edit, which I loved. I hope you do, too? It's the first time Will meets Van, from his point of view. Enjoy! More chapters soon.
--Lish
Rough Around the Hedges Snippet:
The first time I met Vanessa Woodbridge, I was in the library waiting for Nana to get off work. Fall was edging into winter, the nights coming earlier and earlier, so while it wasn’t late, it was already getting dark. Outside was blustery and cold, but the library was cozy and warm, which meant many of the tables were full, and the alcoves with cushioned chairs long since taken. Not everyone was on task—I saw several heads bent together chatting, and I’d just passed one of the reserved quiet rooms where the two occupants had lost interest in their books and notes entirely.
Unless they were studying biology. In which case, college biology seemed a lot more interesting than the high school classes I’d had to take.
I was picking up a stack of books to tuck onto a return cart when I saw her. Her dark hair was piled up onto her head, a pencil stuck through the knot to keep it into place. She had on an oversize sweater that hung off one shoulder, revealing pale skin and a smattering of freckles. While she seemed young for a college student, she had a few books spread out and notebook in front of her.
She also looked about ten seconds away from either bursting into tears or setting the library on fire. I tucked the books onto the cart and wandered over, peeking at the papers over her shoulder. Her paper was full of scribbled notes, crossed through lines, and a one or two sketched out symbols.
Despite it being fairly crowded, she’d managed to get most of the table to herself, and I pulled up a chair across from her, dropping into it. “Are you okay?”
She blinked at me, startled, her eyes big and brown. They weren’t doe eyes. Despite the thick lashes, I’d never, ever describe her as a baby deer.
One time when I was hiking with Nana I’d come across a bobcat. He was several yards away, his mouth full of rabbit. Our eyes connected and I got the deep sense that he was neither afraid nor aggressive at that moment. If I’d been an animal mage, I’m pretty sure I knew what he would have asked me. So are you going to be an asshole, or what?
It was a wary sort of exasperation that this girl shared.
One dark eyebrow winged up. “Do you usually accost random girls in the library?”
“Only when it looks like they’re going to burn the library down out of pure frustration.” I leaned my elbows onto the table, cupped my chin, and tried to appear innocent. “One word from you and I’m gone, promise. I just want to help.”
She crossed her arms, leaning back into her chair, still giving me that bobcat look. “If I tell you to go away, you will?”
I nodded.
“Because if you’re trying to hit on me, you’re wasting your time. I don’t really date, I don’t go here, and my dad’s a professor.” Her blunt speech had a worn feel to it that made me think she was used to getting hit on when she was on campus.
I hadn’t planned on hitting on her, but now, after talking to her, I was tempted. I liked how prickly she was. But I’d said I was just there to help, and I tried to keep my promises. “I don’t go here, either. My grandmother works in the library.”
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Which one is she?”
I pointed out my Nana who was helping a student at one of the tables.
The girl watched me, still the bobcat trying to decide if I was going to be an asshole or not. “Tell me something about yourself—something embarrassing, or terrible. Something you don’t usually tell people right away.”
I didn’t hesitate. “My real first name is Willhardt.”
She burst into laughter. Her eyes widened before she clapped her hands over her mouth. Like she could catch the sound and put it back. But it was too late—her laugh was already out there in the world.
It was my new favorite sound.
She dropped her hands, whispering. “You’re kidding.”
I shook my head slowly, pulling out my wallet. I dropped my ID in front of her. She plucked it off the table, studying it. “Willhardt Murphy.”
“Yep.”
She placed it carefully on the table. She held out a hand. “Vanessa Woodbridge.”
I took her hand, her palm warm in mine, and shook. The heat burned through all of my nerve endings, like a brush fire during a drought. I realized I was staring at her. Which was exactly what she didn’t want.
I tore my gaze away and dropped her hand. “So, Vanessa Woodbridge, what’s making you contemplate arson?”
She huffed, slumping in her seat. “I have to write a magical theory paper. It’s boring and I don’t understand any of this.” She shoved the book in front of her with the heel of her hand.
I pulled the offending book to me, glancing at the title. A Comparative Study of Multidimensional Magic Theory in Regard to the Fields of—I was tired halfway through the title. I paged through it before shoving it away. “Is that a book or someone’s thesis?”
She dropped her head onto the table. “I don’t know.”
I peered at the book a little more closely. “What class is this for?”
“Basic magic theory.”
I pointed an accusing finger at the cover. “That is not basic magic theory. What college class—”
“High school,” she said, her face buried in her arms. “I’m in high school.”
I stared at her. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” she mumbled. “I’ll be seventeen next month.”
She was two years younger than me and someone was trying to make her read a book that was leagues above anything I’d seen in school. “Are you in an AP class?”
She shook her head, still not looking up. “I’m so stupid—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I placed a hand on her shoulder without thinking. “Look at me, will you?”
She turned her head and peered up at me, misery lining her face. I desperately wanted to bring that laugh back. Like it was my calling to make this girl smile.
I folded my arms onto the table and dropped my head onto them, so I was facing her. “You’re not stupid.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, you’re not. I don’t know what kind of jackass assigned you that book, but it’s clearly not meant for a high school student.”
She watched me, like she was sifting through my words and testing them for validity. “You’re not just trying to make me feel better?”
“No,” I said firmly. “If I was trying to make you feel better, I’d go buy you a hot chocolate.”
She perked up. Only for a second, but I caught it.
“Right,” I said, sitting up and handing her the ridiculous book. “Let’s go. You need a study break.”
She carefully gathered her things. “You don’t have to buy me a hot chocolate. I should just…” she trailed off, like she didn’t know how to finish that sentence.
I folded my arms and leaned in. “I have twenty bucks burning a hole in my pocket. That’s drizzled caramel sauce kind of money. That’s whipped cream and sprinkles kind of money. You’re going to turn that down?” I shook my head. “And I thought we were friends.”
Her smile came back, tentative at first. “We’re friends?”
I scoffed. “You think I offer to buy everyone hot chocolate?”
Her grin widened. “I can’t leave campus.”
I pointed out the window, which revealed a view of a grassy courtyard lit up by a handful of wrought iron lampposts. “There’s a coffee cart right across the way. You’ll be able to see the library the whole time.” I nodded to her phone. “Text your parents, let them know who you’re with, but I promise, it’s just hot chocolate.”
She stuffed her notes into her bag. “Just hot chocolate? I seem to remember caramel sauce being mentioned.”
I stood, holding out my elbow. “Whatever milady wants.”
She hesitated, but only for a second. When she slid her hand into the crook of my elbow, it felt like victory.
Comments
True story--when I turned in Hold Me Closer, Necromancer as my thesis, the advisors had a note that was like, "why is everyone drinking hot chocolate?" Because I had many, many scenes where they did that. (And honestly, I think hot chocolate is probably in most of my books.) This is extra funny because my friend Casey had the note "So much cheese. Why is everyone eating cheese?" on hers.
This is lovely! A library, attraction between two awesome characters, and hot chocolate!? It’s not my birthday but thank you!
I can confirm that this book contains both librarians and romance. Ha!
This is absolutely fabulous. Both the librarian and the hopeless romantic in me adore it!
