Boys, Book Clubs, and Other Bad Ideas by Kristina Horner

Author:Kristina Horner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Boys book clubs anthology, ya short stories, ya short story collections, ya love stories, monday night anthology, alternate universe fiction, magical library, sucked into book, magical books, wizarding school, bad ideas book, litRPG, fantasy
Amazon: B09GXF3GVK
Publisher: 84th Street Press
Published: 2021-10-09T07:00:00+00:00

Boys, Book Clubs, and Other Bad Ideas

by Sunny Everson

Bram’s wand was the most common variety: polished maple with a single Quartz point on the end. It was neither rare nor exciting, but instead sturdy and reliable. He waved a quick adhesive spell, then took a step back to admire his work.

The notice, handwritten in ink on a piece of parchment, said the following:

FOURTH YEAR BOOK CLUB

(OTHER YEARS WELCOME)

COMPLETE YOUR CLUB REQUIREMENT

WITHOUT THE DANGER

TUESDAYS 4PM

LIBRARY

It wasn’t anything impressive, but he felt a touch of pride looking at the notice. He did wonder, though, if he should have added something a little more positive to the ad, such as COME MAKE FRIENDS or HAVE A GOOD TIME or perhaps even THERE WILL BE SNACKS. (Never mind; the librarian, Madame Sanguine, had a strict no-food policy.)

So perhaps his new book club didn’t sound like the most entertaining way for fifteen-year-old wizards to spend their time, but Bram figured there had to be others like himself out there—other students for whom the threat of falling off a pegasus was too great to join a sparkball team or who didn’t like the particular danger of joining 4H.

Crimsonwood Academy for Wizards required all students fourth year and up to participate in at least one club per year. Now Bram was starting his first required year with no club prospects except to start his own, and what easier option than reading a book and discussing it?

(He knew, however, that the number of fiction books in the Crimsonwood library was limited to one shelf on one bookcase in the back corner. It was fine; they could reread the same books each year until they graduated.)

Yes, Bram told himself, this was going to be the perfect club for the more average teenagers of the school. One didn’t need to be a hero, after all, to enjoy literature.

—

Bram had to admit to himself that he may have set his expectations a little high. It was nearly half past four on the first Tuesday of book club, and he was the only one sitting at his reserved table. There had been a clerical error with the table reservation as well, because instead of reading RESERVED FOR CRIMSONWOOD BOOK CLUB, the reservation card said only “bram’s table” in all lowercase.

So rather than surrounded by excited bibliophiles, he was sitting entirely alone at a table that was clearly too large for just him.

It wasn’t all bad, he told himself. The table had a window that looked down on the castle grounds below. He had a nice view of the sparkball field, where October Whitmore was practicing on his shimmering gray pegasus. Down on the grass, the boy spurred his steed into the air, the sunlight reflecting off his golden hair, and a daring grin on his face.

A clear view of October in action was a pleasant treat. The other fourth year was usually surrounded by his fans, both students and teachers alike. Bram had spent his education at Crimsonwood enjoying October’s many triumphs from a comfortable and frequently obstructed distance.

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