Autoboyography
Page 63

Tanner looks out his window at the street, at his Camry parked at the curb. How crazy would it be to just show up at Sebastian’s house? To ask him how he got a copy of his book, how he managed to get it into Fujita’s hands?
Reality sets in and panic starts to climb up the back of his neck. Sebastian read it. The whole thing.
“Tanner? You still there?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice cracking. “Thanks.”
“You headed to the signing later?”
Tanner blinks out of his daze. His upper lip is damp now; his whole body is on the verge of a frantic, feverish shiver. “The what?”
“The signing, down at—” Fujita pauses. “What am I thinking? Of course you aren’t. Or, are you?”
“I honestly have no idea what we’re talking about.”
Tanner can hear the creak of Fujita’s desk chair as he shifts. Maybe he’s sitting up, paying attention now. “Sebastian’s book came out yesterday.”
Time seems to slow.
“He’s signing at Deseret Book over at University Place, at seven tonight. But I don’t know whether to expect you there.” An awkward laugh and then, “I hope you come. I hope this goes the way it does in my head. I need an end to that story.”
• • •
Autumn climbs into the car. “You’re being oddly broody and cryptic. Where are we going?”
“I need best friend powers, activated.” He leaves the car in park at the curb and turns to face her. “I don’t know how it happened, but Sebastian turned in my book to—”
One look at her complexion—splotchy pink, awareness dawning—and he knows.
He isn’t even sure why it didn’t immediately occur to him. Maybe he liked the image that a heroic Sebastian would climb in through his window, dig around in his drawers for the laptop, copy the file over, and ride on his loyal steed (his bike) to school to turn in the manuscript and save Tanner’s ass. But of course the more banal explanation is at play: Autumn. She read it. Gave it to Sebastian as a bit of a Look at this broken soul. You did this, you monster, and boom. Sebastian’s guilt overtook him, and he couldn’t let Tanner fail.
He did it out of pity.
Tanner deflates. “Oh.”
“You’re telling me he turned it in?”
“You’re telling me you didn’t know?”
She leans in, her expression urgent. “I didn’t know he gave it to Fujita. I swear. I just thought he should read it. I thought maybe he could grade it. He had my drive for about a day, and then he gave it back.”
“That’s a pretty big decision to make for me.”
“I was emotional,” she says, only mildly remorseful. “And your book was awesome. It was a crazy time, okay?” She grins. “I’d just lost my virginity.”
Tanner laughs, playfully pinching her leg. At least that much has returned to normal in the past few weeks. And in truth, Autumn gets as many free passes as she wants these days. Despite the return of easiness between them, he still isn’t entirely comfortable holding her feet to the fire.
“Well, I got an A,” he tells her. “And the world didn’t end. Still, I can’t imagine what it took for him to do that. Fujita knows now, obviously.” It’s been a couple of weeks since school ended. Maybe everyone knows. Or maybe Sebastian took three steps backward, right back into the closet. “Sebastian’s book came out yesterday, and he’s signing at the Deseret down on University.”
Autumn’s eyes widen with thrill as she understands what they’re doing in the car. “We aren’t.”
“We are.”
• • •
The line begins in front of the store and snakes around, outside the strip mall and down University almost half a block. It reminds Tanner of the airport when there are mobs of people waiting at the baggage claim for their missionaries coming home. When the Mormons come out, they come out en masse.
Tanner and Autumn tack themselves onto the end of the line. It’s early June, and the wind is dry and hot. Other than the mountains, which jut straight up from the earth, the city feels unendingly flat. It isn’t, not really, but it has that same low-expectations vibe, the bland urban design to an unambitious town.
A tiny thrill builds in Tanner’s stomach, spreading warmth outward. He’s going to miss Autumn, but he’ll be near the ocean again.
A man in a short-sleeved plaid shirt approaches. His left arm holds a stack of at least ten books. “Are you here for the signing?”
Tanner nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you bring a book, or are you purchasing here?”
Autumn and Tanner exchange an unsure look. “Buying here?” Autumn wagers.
The man hands them each a book from the dwindling stack in his arms and peels two Post-it notes from the top of a pad. Tanner nearly laughs. They’re blue, just like the ones holding all his angst and love and melodrama.
“Put your names on these,” the man says. “It will make it easier for Sebastian to personalize it when you get up front.”
A rope tightens around Tanner’s chest, and Autumn lets out a tiny groan of sympathy.
“After it’s signed, you can pay at the register.” It would never occur to the staff that someone might be handed a book and take off without ever going inside.
The man leaves, and Autumn turns to him, clutching her copy. “This is weird in so many ways.”
“Yeah.” Tanner stares at the novel in his hands. On the cover is a fiery landscape—a burnt valley, mountains still alive with green, looming over the encroaching flames. It’s beautiful. The colors are rich, nearly three-dimensional. A cloaked boy stands at the foot of a mountain, holding a torch. At his feet, the title rises from the paper in thick foil.
FIRESTORM
Sebastian Brother
The title doesn’t have any meaning yet to Tanner. Maybe it never will. The idea of spending—he flips to the back—four hundred pages with Sebastian’s creative brain seems nearly unbearable. Maybe someday, when he’s moved on and this all just seems like a tender bruise in his history, he’ll open it up, look at his name scrawled generically there, and actually be able to appreciate the story between the covers.
“No, I mean, this is weird for me,” Autumn says, breaking into his thoughts. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you.”
“I’m starting to wonder what the hell we’re doing here. This could be a disaster.”
“You don’t think he half expects you?”
Tanner gives it some more thought. He hasn’t tried to contact Sebastian, not since the brush-off e-mail. No doubt he thinks Tanner will just disappear. He probably should just disappear. “No.”
She points ahead of them, down the block. “Well, we are conveniently close to the Emergency Essentials store if you need anything.”
“That is such an LDS thing to have in a town,” Tanner mumbles.
Autumn doesn’t argue. They stare at the strip mall sign, with the three largest businesses advertised in bold letters: Deseret Book. Emergency Essentials. Avenia Bridal.
“This is all very LDS,” she agrees.
“Do you miss the church?”
She leans into him. Her head barely reaches the top of his shoulder, so when he puts an arm around her, she tucks neatly beneath his chin.
“Sometimes.” She looks up at him. Anyone watching would think they were a couple. “I miss the activities and that certainty that if everyone is happy with you, you’re doing everything right.”