“I’m heading off to the library,” I called out to my mother. She looked shocked that I even knew what a library was. Gee, thanks mom.
“You’re going to the library? You mean the place with books?” she questioned, her eyebrows rising slightly. I let out a chuckle before nodding.
“Yes, Mom. That’s the one; I need a book for a report. If I don’t get it, I’m definitely failing,” I replied.
“Okay, well, have fun," my mother snorted. The amusement was clear on her face. Her dark brown hair, something I inherited, was tied back into a messy bun and she had on a large t-shirt and sweatpants.
I waved at her before getting into my car, a black Jeep Grand Cherokee that I worked so hard for. My parents had chipped in for it, too but I managed to get my half of it. It was way better than sharing a car with my older brother Jeremiah.
Speaking of the idiot, we had gotten into a fight this morning. I scowled at the memory before pulling into the parking lot of the library. It was empty aside from a few cars. Whistling and twirling my keys around my index finger, I walked over to the entrance, opening the door and allowing the warm air to fan over me as I walked to the counter.
“I’m Beverly, how may I help you?” a blonde girl squealed. I smiled at her, automatically sensing that she was one of those girls that is too nice for her own good. Not because she's blonde, but because she seems like she cares about other people's opinions more than she does about her own I bet more people walk all over her than they do to the library’s welcome mat. That's sad, really.
“I’m just looking for a book on Adolf Hitler," I casually spoke, leaning on the counter. She clacked away on the keyboard, scanning the computer screen.
I adjusted my glasses on my nose. Don’t let my appearance fool you; I am no nerd, if that’s what you’re assuming. Unfortunately, in 8th grade, I spent so much time playing video games that my vision went to crap and I was prescribed glasses. There is no way I’m sticking a contact on my finger and stabbing myself in the eye with it. Besides, I have really sensitive eyes and they water a lot. My finger won't even reach my eye and I'm blinking and my eye is creating it's own Niagra Falls.
“It’s in the fourth row, on the second shelf," she smiled cheerfully as she pointed in the direction of the shelf. I nodded, muttering a ‘thank you’ as I shuffled across the tiled floor.
The library was nice and I don’t know why I don’t spend more time here. Ha, who am I kidding? Sure, the library’s nice, but I’m not one to spend my time with my face buried in a book. I’d rather be at home, playing video games or sitting on my bed with my laptop placed on my lap. Or at the mall, watching hot guys shop and laugh with their friends. Or even out somewhere, maybe with my family, or my friend Meredith.
I looked up and noticed that the ceiling was high and that the library had a second floor, or at least a wraparound balcony with glass windows and couches for you to read on, I’m guessing. I noticed a sign for Free Wi-Fi and I raised an eyebrow with a slow nod. Maybe I could spend my time here.
When I reached the fourth row, I heard the door opening. Or at least I think it was the door, this was my first or second time being in the library for my whole 16, soon to be 17, years of being alive.
“I’m Beverly, how may I help you?” the lady at the front desk's voice echoed throughout the lonely library. Yeah, I was right. That was the door. Someone else was here. It was probably an old lady coming to return a book that she’d checked out in 1975. Instead of an old, fragile voice responding, it was a guy’s. He didn’t sound too old; it didn’t have that wise ring to it.
I made my way to a table, opening one of several books about Hitler that I’d grabbed from the shelf. I started reading one and surprisingly, it was interesting.
I heard whispering and I didn’t bother looking up, it was probably the guy and Beverly. He most likely didn’t have a sense of direction. If he did, there’s no way he’d be here. No one comes to the library anymore, mainly because whatever you need to know, you can look up on your phone or your computer. I don’t even know why I’m here. Oh wait, yes I do; I don’t have a library card so I can’t check out any books; I should have just went to a bookstore and bought the darned book.
I heard shoes walking across the tile floor. When they stopped a few feet away from me, I came out of the trance that I was in while I was reading. I heard the chair across from me screech out. It echoed loudly as I looked up.
I raised an eyebrow at the sight. A guy was standing there with black hair and coffee colored eyes. He had a smirk present on his face and he was wearing a blue flannel shirt that he left unbuttoned; it revealed a gray shirt underneath it.
“What?” I asked him, already annoyed with his presence. This surprised him but he still had that smirk on. His aura was enough to tell me, ‘player,’ or something along those lines. I guess I'm good at reading people.
“Well, I’m here. What are your other two wishes?” he asked and I narrowed my eyes at him, taken by surprise.
“For Channing Tatum, and then for you to go back to where you came from,” I retorted.
“Your eyes are like the ocean, and I think I’m lost at sea," he stated. I was confused. My eyes are brown. Is this idiot colorblind?
“My eyes are brown, moron,” I retorted. I know it’s not kind or polite to insult strangers but I can’t help it.
“Can I take a picture of you? I want to show Santa Claus exactly what I want for Christmas," he continued, leaning in slightly. I leaned away, confused as to why this guy is even talking to me.
“Can I take a picture of you? I want to show the police exactly who I’m filing a restraining order against,” I snapped.
“How was Heaven when you left it?” he persisted, starting to creep me out.
“When I left I didn’t have any proof that God had a sense of humor, now I’ve found it,” I barked.
“Don’t you need a license to be that good looking?” he pushed, eyes glinting. For whatever reason, I was having an intense stare off and verbal battle with this strange guy.
“Don’t you need a license to be that ugly?” I spat. He raised an eyebrow before continuing.
“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” he asked.
“No, but it hurt when I crawled up from Hell,” I bickered.
“Do you have a Band-Aid? I just scraped my knee falling for you," the nameless guy replied, unwilling to give up. This is a battle I'm not willing to lose.
“No, but I have some salt,” I snorted. Who knew you’d get into conversations this amusing at the library?
“Did you have lucky charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious," he winked jokingly.
“No, I had a bowl of nails… without any milk,” I responded.
“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?” he leaned forward.
“Nothing, I can’t laugh and talk at the same time,” I spoke, raising an eyebrow.
“Do you think it was fate that brought us together?” he inquired, his coffee colored eyes swirling.
“Nope, it was just plain bad luck," I replied before he could finish.
“If you were a stop light, I’d turn red every time you passed by, just so I could stare at you a bit longer,” he ran a hand through his dark locks.
“Red lights are the only things I run,” I countered. I turned my gaze towards my phone which sat on the table beside the book. It was already 7:35 and the library was closing at 8. Curse the weekday schedule and my procrastination problem.
“If you give me your number, I’ll leave," he told me. I eyed him, narrowing my eyes. I weighed my options. I really need to finish this paper.
“Fine,” I replied, ripping a sheet of paper out of my notebook. I scribbled my brother’s phone number onto it. It’ll serve my brother right and it’ll get this kid off of my back.
“I’ll call you," he replied, standing up and walking over to a guy leaning casually against the wall opposite to the counter, talking to Beverly with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t count on me answering,” I honestly said, getting back to work on my essay. Like I needed a distraction.'
