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A Summer Love Triangle This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

It was July, the summer of 2007. Briny air clung to my skin as I stretched my towel out over the sand. The sun was hot but not uncomfortable. I reached into my beach bag, excited to have a free day at the beach. I pulled a tattered, mildew-scented paperback out of my bag and groaned. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a restful day after all.

My dad is a voracious reader, and for his fiftieth birthday I had created a private book club for the two of us. He is constantly traveling for business, so I thought it would be a great way to spend time together doing something we both love. The first book on our list was Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. My vision had been lofty: we would read side by side in huge leather chairs and discuss interesting themes while sipping cappuccino and educating ourselves with great literature.

Dad had embraced my vision and plowed through the heavy tome with gusto. In fact, three months had passed since he finished the book, while I hadn’t gotten past the first three long, dull pages.

Surprised by how quickly the summer days were drifting by, I promised myself that July was the month of Dickens and Dickens alone. But the constant lure of the warm ocean and cool breezes left me with little time to settle into a good book. When I sunbathed with my friends, they would doze, flip through magazines, or read chick-lit beach books. There I was, the next towel over, trying to focus my sun-soaked eyes on the pages of Dickens’ magnificent yet exhausting prose. The margins were so small, the print so miniscule! As the days sweated along, I began to dread opening that torn and musty book resting reproachfully on my nightstand.

I had made some progress (page 20 of 805) when, on July twenty-first, just as I was dog-earing my page to grab some lunch, my mother called up that a package was waiting for me in the kitchen.

I double-checked the date before I allowed my heart to start racing. It was the twenty-first, to be sure – the date pre-ordered books had been promised. My hands began to shake with anticipation; every limb in my body trembled as I realized the long-awaited day had arrived. I flung poor David Copperfield to the foot of my bed and sprinted downstairs, each mad footstep screaming Harry’s name.

The shipping label stated to the world that he belonged to me. After I’d spent months dreaming of his arrival, Harry Potter, the seventh and final, was at last mine. Thoughts of young Copperfield and his foolish wife, Dora, were swept aside as my elated mind cleared room for incantations and potion recipes.

With excitement, I tore open the package, freeing Harry from his bonds. Cardboard shreds fell to the floor as I held the book for the first time. Its brand-new yellow cover shone like the blazing sun. Mine, all mine! I hugged the thick novel to my chest, welcoming Harry into my arms, welcoming him home.

Eating wasn’t necessary; I had a private date with Harry Potter planned for this evening. I carried him to my room and placed him on my pillow. I unconsciously put Copperfield in my nightstand drawer, hiding him in the darkness while I slowly opened the cover of my new treasure.

Harry smelled delicious. I think he was wearing my favorite cologne: new book. Not a hint of mildew in his beguiling aroma. Propping the book up on my knees, I dove into the magical world I had missed so dearly.

Hours passed me by unknowingly until it was three in the morning; I was the only one up in my house. I pulled my lamp closer so the room was black except for the halo of light surrounding Harry and me. Guilty thoughts of my abandoned David flickered across my mind as I turned the pages. I had never stayed up this late to be with him, never skipped dinner to enjoy David’s quiet company. I felt like I was in a whirlpool, being sucked deep into this addictive relationship with Harry.

A corner of my mind considered David, growing dusty in my drawer, alone and deserted. What would he think of me? I feared his judgment, his mute reproach. But wait, Harry had defeated Voldemort! He was going to beat him once and for all! My eyes swelled with proud tears and my throat tightened at the thought of my beloved grinning triumphantly over his fallen enemy.

Thoughts of Copperfield vanished as I realized that it was over, all over; the boy I had spent five years of my life obsessing and fantasizing over was now a grown man and married. The epilogue left me no room for interpretation; Harry was lost forever, bound to that red-haired brat. He was gone, ­escaping from my eager grasp as quickly as he had entered it. Rejection stabbed me like a Cruciatus Curse.

The next morning I was cranky. My scrambled eggs had a copper aftertaste, and I gave a nasty look to anyone who asked me to pass the orange juice. I felt dissatisfied not only by the mediocre eggs but by the way Harry Potter ended – and the realization that it had ended. I had let myself get so absorbed in this fantasy world that I couldn’t fathom a return to reality. Had the past 12 hours really ended? Could it be? Was Harry no longer a part of my life?

I couldn’t accept that I would never experience that tingling rush of excitement upon opening a just-released Potter book again. Never again would I smell the distinctive bouquet of freshly printed pages mixed with mystery and anticipation. Never again would my imagination be so thoroughly captivated that I could hardly eat or drink, let alone sleep.

My melancholy attitude persisted throughout the day. Lying on the blistering sand as my magical fling faded, my thoughts reverted to an earlier and perhaps deeper love. Dear old David Copperfield sat patiently in my canvas bag, awaiting my caress. The paperback felt flimsy in my hands, so used to Harry’s durable hard cover. The texture was not unwelcome, however, and I admired David’s classic appeal with a new appreciation. The novel fell open to where I had left off and, like a lost friend, he raced back into my life with undiminished fervor. With one last longing sigh for my lost Harry, I dove back into my relationship with David with renewed commitment.

As the humid July nights melted into cooler August ones, I nestled close to his fictional body. We sat together throughout the tiresome five-hour plane ride to California. His intelligent prose comforted me as I fought with my best friend. David aged, became a widower, and wrote a book as I made new friends, enjoyed the summer heat, and readied myself for the coming school year.

The dense pages began to loosen up as I learned to appreciate David’s wit and remarkable intellect. Where I had previously thought us so different, I began to see that we shared much. Throughout the time we spent together, he made me laugh, cry, and think. My eyes grew accustomed to the small print as I felt myself being drawn into an even more vivid world than Harry Potter’s.

My friends questioned the bulky novel I lugged around. Why wasn’t I reading the latest Gossip Girl? Could that thick text really be just for fun? No one could understand my relationship with Copperfield, nor could they identify with my desperate need to stay up all night with Potter.

I never mentioned to David my activities that night he spent in the drawer. The adulterous secret burned in my chest like a hot coal. But I decided that what David didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. As I lay awake one evening, shivering in the cool breeze from my window, I realized that few people could comprehend the affection I shared for my two conflicting loves, David and Harry.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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inspiredbytheworld said...
Apr. 8, 2011 at 8:52 pm:
Wow. I clicked on this expecting some short story about a summer fling, but man was I wrong! I love this!!
 
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Jill F. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 8, 2011 at 6:33 pm:
This is great, exactly how I feel about Harry Potter, excpet I liked the end with the "red-haired brat." But i've never read David Copperfield, so I guess I'll have to now. (probably won't match up to Harry Potter, though.)
 
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HorseLover said...
Apr. 8, 2011 at 3:52 pm:
This is really creative!! I was expecting something very different than this, but I like this a lot better!!
 
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bieberl0ve15 said...
Apr. 8, 2011 at 3:08 pm:
I LOVE harry potter, too... so sad there will never be another ;( but now i have to read david copperfield! :)
 
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forever_an_artist said...
Apr. 8, 2011 at 10:49 am:
I love David Copperfield! It's one of my favorite books. But at the same time I totally understand what you mean about guiltily choosing one book over another. Great piece!
 
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xelawriter97This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 8, 2011 at 10:21 am:
this is REALLY good... i LOVE it!!! :)
 
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aaliona said...
Mar. 17, 2011 at 7:11 pm:
This is a great way of looking at books and relationships! It's a great metaphor. :)
 
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PoetryGirl said...
Mar. 17, 2011 at 12:40 pm:

YES, SOMEBODY ELSE HAS "CHARACTER CRUSHES"!  :D  Great description.  You usedplenty of adjectives and descriptions without sounding childish.  

Who needs real people? Books rule! (and now I feel guilty about not reading David Copperfield.)

 
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to.hold.the.sun This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 17, 2011 at 12:11 pm:
This is fantastic. I can't say that I'm a Dickens fan, but you make me want to give him another try!
 
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RedheadAtHeartThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 17, 2011 at 10:01 am:

Wow. Just wow.

 

I love it. It's wonderful. Would you check out some of my work, please? :)

 
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Selimile said...
Feb. 1, 2011 at 5:57 pm:

THIS WAS AWESOME!!

I know what you mean, I get a lot of novel crushes too, and I'm always annoyed when the main character falls in love with someone other than myself (not that it would ever work!)

Great job, and keep writing!

 
Jakson5Freak replied...
Feb. 23, 2011 at 8:02 pm :
I know. if you have ever read the book "the giver" it has one of those endings where the author leaves you to figure out what happens.
 
MKimmi replied...
Feb. 23, 2011 at 8:12 pm :

OMG! THE GIVER IS REALLY GOOD!!!

Btw, I thought this would had beenlike about real people, gave me a surprise! Are the two conflicting loves from the two books Harry Potter and the Dickens book?

 
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soccergoalie6 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 1, 2011 at 5:17 pm:
wow! so true about the ending of harry potter! i really get how you described your attatchment toward characters! just wonderful.
 
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Ray-While-Walking said...
Feb. 1, 2011 at 12:09 pm:

Wow that was amazing..=D

when i got my harry potter book on the 21st it was my bday..that day couldnt have been any better...

 
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justwannabeme said...
Jan. 10, 2011 at 7:03 pm:
wow. this made my day. this was so creative!! i was smiling the whole time i read this. and yes, i know how you feel about the harry potter books. i wanted them to go on for forever. haha. but anyways, love the piece!! :)
 
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nascar48jj said...
Jan. 10, 2011 at 4:02 pm:
wow! this was such a clever idea. It totally showed a new way to look at the relationships we encounter with the fictional characters we fall in love with in our books. Great piece! <3
 
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SophiaCross said...
Jan. 10, 2011 at 2:31 pm:
Very clever...
 
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-DreamForever- said...
Jan. 10, 2011 at 10:02 am:
I love the analogy you used to compare the books to love.  Some may think it's stupid, I mean, who loves a book? How do you cheat on a character? But I totally understand, and I love the way you wrote it.  
 
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AliceLevene said...
Dec. 19, 2010 at 2:10 am:

I do not see how you can compare David Coperfield to Harry Potter. David Coperfield is superior in so many ways, intellectually and literally. I would hardly call Harry Potter literature but then again, I suppose each to their own.

And also, although so many young people tend to believe otherwise, just because a book was written a long time ago, doesn't make any it worse than the books that come out nowadays. And you can buy a new looking Dickens book nowadays anyway, who says i... (more »)

 
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