Banned Books

By RJ Astruc

Calling Anthony Parker: Book One

At St. Peter’s, an exclusive British boarding school for boys, a teacher’s word is law—and Anthony Parker is leading a rebellion. When he is found reading a book containing “questionable content,” he receives a reprimand from the headmaster. Parker responds by secretly lending questionable materials to other students, aided by his best friend and long-time crush, Rafe.

The situation escalates when their draconic literature teacher discovers their subterfuge and compiles a banned books list. Parker and Rafe fall in with Peter Fritz, a broody outcast who’s turning the ban in his favor by buying and lending banned books to students—for a price. As the banned books library grows and hidden feelings threaten the boys’ burgeoning partnership, they discover that the challenges of growing up might outweigh the rewards of bucking the system.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harmony Ink Press
• Release date: Jun 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781623807580

Book preview

Chapter 1

IT STARTED with The Well of Loneliness.

I don’t remember where I got the book. Probably via Rafe, who has a huge collection of books he inherited (and never read) from his older brother, an ex-boarder. I had been reading it in stops and starts all spring, and its pages were badly dog-eared and creased from all the times I’d put it down… and then had to go back and reread to remember where I was. It wasn’t a very good book, in my opinion; not enough action, too much love-stuff, and lots and lots of angst. But I’m one of those people who have to finish a book, no matter what.

The afternoon it all began, I’d decided I was finally going to get to the end of The Well of Loneliness. I left Rafe in our dorm room watching stuff on YouTube (he is a sucker for a cute cat video), and went out to the school quadrangle. The quadrangle is a big grassy area that sits in the middle of the school grounds, surrounded by the boarding school, the gymnasium, the science wing and, on the west side, a giant statue of St. Peter (our school is called St. Peter’s). I found a nice spot to myself in St. Peter’s long shadow, found the right dog-eared page, and started reading.

I’d just gotten back into the swing of the story when my literature teacher, Miss Lowry, walked by. She gave me a nod and a smile as she was passing, in an absent-minded way… and then all of a sudden she came to an abrupt halt, like she’d remembered something important. She turned around and came back and squatted down a bit in the grass so she could look at my book cover.

What are you reading, Parker?

Miss Lowry was pretty new to the school. She was a young, nervous teacher, straight out of college. She had short frizzy hair and a round, unhappy face with the sort of mouth that naturally sags down at the corners. I’d often felt sorry for her in class—we can be what Headmaster Collins calls a bit of a handful—so I wanted to be as nice as possible. I held up the book so she could see it better. "The Well of Loneliness, Miss. By Radclyffe Hall."

I think I might have heard of it. Refresh my memory, won’t you. What’s it about?

Lesbians, Miss.

Lesbians?

Yes, Miss. She looked taken aback, so I felt I had to explain: "It’s not… it’s not titillating, or anything like that. It’s about the life of this woman called Stephen—"

A woman called Stephen?

Her parents expected a boy. Anyway, she dresses up like a man and writes books and falls in love with women. I’m up to a bit now where it’s World War I, and Stephen’s going to—

Miss Lowry interrupted me. What I don’t understand, Parker, is why a boy of fifteen wants to read a book about lesbians.

This was a question I had anticipated but was still unprepared to answer. Um, I said. I could feel myself blushing. Which was silly, really, because of all people, I really had no reason to blush about being seen reading The Well of Loneliness. I thought it might be interesting.

Interesting?

Yes, Miss.

She looked at me as if she expected more, but I had nothing more to say. I smiled awkwardly and nodded my head. She frowned. On the other side of the quadrangle, some kids from the year above me had stopped to watch. I guess they expected I was about to be told off—and to be honest, I half expected that too. Not because I’d done anything wrong (that I knew about), but because Miss Lowry looked so concerned, in the way teachers do when they’re about to punish you for your own good.

Miss Lowry? I said eventually, when the silence became too awkward for me to bear it any longer. Do you mind if I keep reading?

Miss Lowry shook herself. No, not at all, she said. You… you keep reading, Parker.

She walked away, toward the science wing. I watched her go. It was definitely weird, the way she’d reacted… and I had to admit I was now a bit more interested in The Well of Loneliness than I’d been before. I flipped back to my page and started reading again.

At the time, I thought that