Free Wasted Words by Staci Hart Page A

motion, Greg stepped in front of her and caught her. She fell into him — his arms were just under hers, which still cradled her loot, and she looked up at him with starry eyes and bated breath.  
    My nerd heart fluttered at the sight of Gwen in Spidey’s arms, and I leaned forward, waiting for them to kiss.
    “You okay?” he asked, looking down at her.
    She nodded, cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” she said softly.
    Greg stood her up, making sure she was stable before stepping back. “Anytime.”
    He took the bottles from her and moved to the bar, putting his back to us, and Bayleigh and I shared a grin. Her cheeks were still pink as she set down her lemons and smoothed her skirt, smiling down at her hands while she finished cutting the fruit.
    The bar began to fill up not long after, and by eight-thirty, the place was pumping. Most of our staff turned up to party, even Warren the grump was dressed up like the Green Goblin, which matched his scowl perfectly. Well, everyone was partying except for Ruby, who wasn’t old enough to drink. Instead, she stayed in the front with the bouncer and Jett, passing out tiny capes and masks to people who came without costumes. Jett was set up at the table with her, handing out name tags. Everyone was instructed to write their name, drink of choice, and a book on their to-be-read list. Jett composed a master list, rounded up all the books, and put them on a book cart near the bar. Anyone could buy a book and a drink for the single they had their eye on for fifty percent off at the bar.
    Books and booze. What reader could refuse? None, that’s how many.
    I made my rounds, chatting with our crew and some of our regulars. I found The Reader and Batman — she was dressed up as Kagome from InuYasha, and he wore a kilt and tunic, though with his dark hair, he resembled Roger Wakefield more than Jamie Fraser. But either way, he looked amazing. They both did. She’d dressed up just over excitement from chewing through two books in a day, and he’d come dressed up for her, hoping she would be there.  
    See? Satisfying. I told them I wouldn’t at all be opposed if they named their first baby Cameron. Girl or boy, didn’t matter.
    A little while later, I mixed everyone up, splitting them into teams for the trivia games based on their costumes. It was always literary trivia that covered all forms of fiction, including comics and graphic novels, so each team would hopefully have a variety of knowledge to pool from. After an hour of trivia games headed up by me, we turned up the music again, and just as I’d suspected, almost everyone stayed all mixed up with their groups, mingling with strangers well after the game was over.  
    I’d just set down my master game pad behind the bar when I looked up to find Tyler walking in.
    Everything stopped for just one long moment.
    We’d taken a different approach to his costume than the spandex route, dressing him up as Steve Rogers in a bomber jacket, cargo pants, and combat boots, with an old-timey military helmet. He wore a Captain America shirt under his jacket, which zipped part of the way, and he carried a shield we’d made him out of a trashcan and spray paint, which turned out pretty badass, I have to say. He was tall — so tall — his smile straight out of a dream or a toothpaste commercial, his jaw made out of stone cut to perfection. He waved at me, and I blinked, smiling as I waved back.
    I noticed he had a friend in tow, Martin, I suspected. It took me a minute to figure out his costume — royal blue slacks, a deep red cardigan, a blue button-down shirt and red bow tie. The 35mm camera hanging from his neck gave it away … I figured he was either Peter Parker or Jimmy Olsen, but Jimmy wouldn’t wear those colors. Really, no one should wear those colors, but he was adorable in his own right, with kind eyes and a friendly smile that I found myself mirroring.
    “Hey, Cam,” Tyler said when he’d approached. “This is my friend