Page 79 of The History in Us

Katie

“I need you to leave, Levi.” In my head, I added, I release you as my hero. Those were words I’d say to my cousin, Gee, as a child while we played knight and princess. Dragon slayer and the queen. Just like the fairy tales in my thoughts, my female lead rescued herself and released any obligation from the prince.

Levi stared back at me, his deep chocolate eyes melting in a manner I’d never seen before, shuttering to steely black. Pulling back his head before he connected with mine, he bowed to me, dipping his chin and struggling to spin with his crutches. He hobbled into the hall and Kentucky closed the door on his back. I fell to my knees, no longer able to hold myself steady as I pretended to do while he stood before me. My romantic nature wanted to skip a beat at the fact Levi came to me. My heart reminded me I’d been his second choice.

I had no answer for Alicia or why Levi didn’t ask me to be part of his life with AJ while he took the job. It was selfish to think I would be the one he asked for help. It was selfish of him not to think of me.

Kentucky’s arms enveloped me, and I leaned into a girl I hardly knew, letting her comfort me in my grief at losing my heart after years of keeping it tucked away, waiting for the hero I’d dreamed up Levi Walker to be.

* * *

I took the risk and returned to class, knowing we only had two weeks before our project was due. Levi and I were essentially finished, and any final touches we could complete in the shared file. I’d worked myself into anxiety over Levi’s presence and then felt the adrenaline crash when he wasn’t in attendance. I couldn’t recall a single detail of my class.

When I returned home, a winter bouquet of flowers awaited me, and tears sprang at the gesture.

“Congratulations…” the card read. My brows pinched at the uncanny statement. Penelope walked in moments later and passed me a letter. This one was fully addressed in my name from Tribune Publishing.

Congratulations. Your story, titledSilent Warrior, has been selected as a finalist in the Perseverance Project. We cordially invite you to attend our awards dinner and ceremony on December 6th.

The remainder of the letter was a blur as my liquid-filled eyes shifted from sorrow to joy.

“I’ve been selected,” I blurted, holding out the letter for Penelope to read. I reached for a flower within the bouquet and inhaled deeply. The arrangement of red, white, and green held so many potential symbols for Levi and me. But I ignored the thought and had a new one.

“I wonder how he knew,” I asked the flowers, though the question was directed at my roommate.

“Who knew what?” she teased.

“Levi. The flowers are from him and the card says congratulations. How did he know?” I looked at my roommate whose eyes scanned the invitation once again.

“It lists all the recipients selected.” She turned the letter to face me. Placed under the information for the location of the dinner and time of the awards ceremony, read a variety of categories with a list of candidates.

“In the category of fantasy fiction, Katie Carter.” I read aloud, continuing to scan. “In the category of personal editorial, Levi Walker.”

The announcement for the Perseverance Project was postmarked before Thanksgiving, but somehow it had gotten lost in our mailbox. With the history project, and Levi, my head in the clouds hadn’t brought me to earth enough to collect the mail. Other than the mistaken romantic letters, most of the envelopes I received included bills. So, I was surprised to read the dinner was for the upcoming Saturday. I was too late to respond with a plus-one, not that I had someone to invite to the dinner, anyway. The only person I’d want to share the moment with me was already going, but anxiety riddled me that Levi might attend with someone other than me.

* * *

Levi didn’t attend class all week, and I’d given up hope of ever seeing him again until the week reached Saturday. I couldn’t imagine he’d pass on the possibility of winning, yet with the acceptance of his dream job, I also didn’t think some writing contest would matter to him. I’d convinced myself he would not be present. To my surprise, the first person I saw was my boss from Vintage Vines.

“Sidonia, what are you doing here?” I giggled with guilt over wearing the amazing dress she’d given me for a second time. However, I had nothing else elegant enough for the Harold Washington Library Winter Garden setting. The formal, top floor of the historical library housed a glass ceiling, providing the dark, winter sky as the backdrop to a room already lit with miniature twinkling lights. The presentation was stunning, and something straight out of a fairy tale.

“Well, one needs to support the arts,” she teased, hooking her arm with mine. “Actually, I’m here with my dad. He makes me attend this program every year.” She escorted me to a large man, solid in stature and commanding in presence. His face was stern as he discussed something political until he noticed us waiting, and then it brightened as he looked upon his daughter.

“Preston Thomas, may I present one of my most loyal workers, and a finalist in tonight’s list of honorees, Katie Carter.” I stared at Sidonia briefly before extending my hand, which was suddenly engulfed in a warm paw of a palm.