The Library Date

I softly kicked my bare foot back and forth, letting the lake carry it to the surface and back into its crisp hold. The other I tucked underneath my knee, tickled by blades of grass, dandelion stems and weeds. The melodies of the creek against the stones under the earth played with the vocals of the birds in the distance, the wind strumming the trees like sweet flutes. I couldn’t see the way they swayed, only listened and found comfort in its retreat. I inhaled air that presented clean, floral aromas stirred in with the lake’s scents, the Marc Jacobs perfume he’d gifted me and his Dior Sauvage cologne. As the back of my head rested in the center of his chest and my arms over his on my stomach, my skin soaked in the afternoon sunshine. It was just the right angle to gift me warmth while still embracing some of the oak tree’s shadow. I was fenced in safety by his legs on both sides of my body as he leaned against the tree trunk. His deep, quiet breaths rocked me into a tranquil rhythm as I meditated on his words.

“Run away with me,” he’d said softly. I danced with his request in my thoughts, my heart beating four times faster than normal, as if I ever had a normal heartbeat in his presence. Our moments together were so sacred, that the idea of having a lifetime with him in freedom was nearly impossible to imagine and yet, it was the only thing my heart clung to. The future that was planned for me turned into a sentence of misery. Finally, my eyes opened to the leaves above us still dancing.

“Where would we go?” I asked.

“Wherever you wish, my love.”

“And what about our homes? Our families? The plans we had?”

“It no longer matters. All I care about is no longer denying my heart. I cannot fight that my life will never mean anything if you and I aren’t together. It must torture you.”

“More than you’ll ever understand.”

“Then please, Lea. Come with me. No one can dictate our paths anymore.” His words were filled with determination, faith and strength, more than I could say I had. I lightly groaned as my body raised from his, turning to face him. My eyes rested, nestled in his soft hazel hue.

“I’m scared, Brandon.”

“I know you are. But I’d rather face fear and adventure with you than success without you.”

“We wouldn’t have to hide anymore.”

“Never again. Just you and me, and the love that pulls us into the unknown together.”

“What about your fortune?”

“I have survived on my own means. I will continue to do so. I don’t need promised wealth from my father or anyone else.” He said as he took hold of my face in his feather-soft hands.

“And me? I don’t have much to offer you.”

“All I need is you.”

“You are certain?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” His thumbs stroked my cheek, and they burned with passion at his touch. My eyes drifted closed as I leaned further into his hold. When they opened again, his eyes were there waiting for my gaze to return. I smiled.

“Alright,” I replied.

“Alright? You’ll come with me?” His eye widened in hope.

“I will come with you.” I promised, my grin glowing as brightly as his. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine and I then knew. We would be alright. We were going to survive in our love and make our lives an adventure better than we ever dreamed. My hands clutched his shoulders like two lifelines, our kiss sending us above the clouds. He released my lips, with tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, pushing from the ground to his feet. He offered his hand and I looked at it briefly before taking it, not in hesitation but in acceptance. I was saying goodbye to the life I knew and the future I was groomed for and saying hello to my happiness and freedom. I grasped his hand, pulling myself to m-

“Excuse me, ma’am. We’re closing in ten minutes.” I heard a soft voice in the distance that tore me away from the pages. When I looked up a brunette with her head dipped around the edge of the wooden book stacks in front of me stared, waiting for me to acknowledge her words.

“Oh, uh-, got it. Thanks.” I gave a little wave and looked back down at the book in my lap. I sighed, staring down at the pages as I leaned my head back against the stacks behind me. I wondered if she got tired of telling people that every day. Surrounding me were subtle sounds of covers closing and books sliding back into their places on the shelves, other book nerds scrambling down the aisles and toward the gigantic staircase in the center of the library that led to the first floor. My head dipped downward at one of my favorite escapes one more time before closing it and standing from the floor.

I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder before walking along the back of the aisles until I got back to the “romance” section. I slipped the book back in its place, staring at the binding of it before walking away.

“Don’t know why I read this crap.” I said to myself as I left the aisle to make my way downstairs. Those stories were faker than Santa Claus and all the other holiday mascots. As if any woman could be so lucky to be swept up by some unrealistically perfect and wealthy CEO to go be so madly in infatuation with a simple, common waitress and travel the world. There were millions of stories with the same, overly sweet and sappy trope, likely by some woman that wished her life was that blissful or some man who wanted to release one of his fantasies under an alias, so no one knew what he thought about in his private time.

Yet that was the only kind of book I picked up and read almost every single day, with the same routine of finding a book, reading the book insert until I find the one I want, and grabbing it to sit on the floor and escape until closing time. As unrealistic as they were, I loved them. I loved becoming the woman who was seen by someone she wouldn’t likely be seen by. I enjoyed reading about the girl who did everything she could to live the life she wanted and while living her life she finds someone who wants to live it with her, not change her. I also loved the other popular tropes by us saps, the one where the woman changes the man from his dark and “bad boy” ways, while a part of her wants to live as dangerously as he does. It’s all foolish, and it was my favorite.

I walked down the wide staircase that stretched at least twenty-five feet across, thirty steps leading from one floor to the other with two small landings that broke them up into sets of ten. I always counted them because it distracted me from where my thoughts roamed. Once I got to the floor, I listened to my feet click across the porcelain tile on my way to the front revolving doors. I slightly turned my head to the left, eyes scanning the huge circular registration and checkout desk. The brunette was scanning books faster than the cashier at Publix. I gulped, pulling my eyes forward. I hoped not to look disappointed, though I didn’t think anyone saw me in the first place.

“You still won’t get yourself a library card.” A voice called from behind me. My heart leaped into my throat and my chest began to throb. I gripped the strap of my bag as I turned, raising a brow in annoyance that I prayed masked my shock, and my joy.

“What? Are stalking me or something?” I asked with a head tilt. “I know you’re a librarian and all, but I don’t think it’s your job to monitor people.”

“Oh no, not at all. It was just um-, just something I noticed.” His cheeks flushed apple red and I quickly resisted a humorous expression.

“Still not clarifying that it’s not stalking.” I placed my free hand on my hip. He adjusted his black frames on his nose and shifted books deeper in the crook of his arm.

“I swear I wasn’t stalking you. It’s just…you come here every day, and you escape in the books, and I just wonder why you won’t try to take them home.”

“Huh. Well that’s my business, don’t you think?”

“Yes, of course. And well, it’s my business too because I work here.”

“That’s your reasonable logic to being seen as a creeper?”

“Actually, no. Just a reason that I thought I could use to talk to you since you were looking for me.”

“What? I wasn’t looking for you!” I said, my tone raised just a bit forgetting where I was. The shush from the brunette reminded me quickly. I looked at him and saw the corner of his mouth curve up slightly.

“I think you were. I saw you looking over at the desk.”

“I was trying to avoid being asked to get a library card by an annoying librarian.”

“Oh? So I guess that lands us back where we started. Why won’t you get one?”

“I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No you don’t. But I’d still like to ask.” He leaned forward a little, softening his tone and eying me like he was trying to peak his way into a vault. Or my soul. I rolled my eyes.

“I mean…the library card is cool or whatever. But I just…I like the library. I like having another layer of escape from reality. It adds to the adventure, and its nostalgic.” I swallowed hard, sucking in my cheeks as I looked away at anything but him, his thick eyebrows and freshly shaven jawline. I took a step back from him, being at least six inches above my five-foot-eight frame. It was quiet for a few seconds longer than I was comfortable with, but when I faced him again I was met with a smile that made me uncomfortable for a completely different reason.

“That’s kind of beautiful. I’ve never heard that before.”

“Yeah, well I’d say a lot you normally wouldn’t hear.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re not like most?”

“Take it however you want, I guess.” I replied with a shrug, adjusting my stance to shift pressure on my other leg. “Look, I wasn’t looking for you.”

“Okay.” His smile was soft, but I could tell in his eyes that his words didn’t match his belief. “Well, will you not be looking for me tomorrow?"

“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrugged again, but this time unable to keep from a subtle smirk. I looked down at the name-tag I’d seen many times and still haven’t brought myself to say it.

“I guess we’ll see tomorrow.”

“I guess we will, to confirm you’re a stalker and you need to be fired.” I turned toward the exit, then my body shifted back toward him with one more smile. His face still gave a reddish tint as he walked away toward the service desk.

***

The next day I entered those revolving doors relieved, having got off my shift early and couldn’t be more grateful. Not that I thought many other places were better than the library, but my job was the last place on earth I ever wanted to be. I for certain thought I was the only one who didn’t love the everyday routine of juggling Starbucks orders that ruined my blouse ninety-percent of the time, handling hundreds of documents to print and deliver all over the building, punching data into a computer that hasn’t been updated since 2010, and being dictated to like a nine-year-old by jerks wearing fake Rolexes. I was glad to be back in my haven.

Not that anyone would ever know but I couldn’t stop thinking about Robbie, the very annoying and highly observant librarian. I was mad at myself for not having noticed him noticing me the entire time. After all I’d only been going to the library after work for almost a year. I was so embarrassed with myself that I swore I wouldn’t go back, especially since I knew he’d be looking for me. Though, there was a subtle jump in my chest at the thought and an even higher jump knowing that I wanted to see him again.

Almost an entire year had I kept a crazy secret to myself, a secret that I feared would make me seem utterly insane. As many times as I’d been there reading almost half the books in the romance section, I hadn’t spoken to Robbie no more than five or six times, and each time the conversations didn’t last longer than five minutes. They usually didn’t involve as much banter as we had the previous night, but there was something that lingered that I never wanted to address, at least not out loud. I told myself that I was wrong and likely making assumptions that would make me look even more like an idiot.

The secret is, although I was never able to have a real conversation with him, I met him in the stories. Just like any fiction reader, I had quite a vivid imagination. It was something that often got me in trouble as a child, and something I was glad to have never lost. As I read most of the time, I either imagined he was reading with me, or he was the man I was reading about. I didn’t even have to insert myself in the story with him. Yes, I know. Crazy.

But it was because I saw him. I saw how his eyes looked over covers and pages. I saw how he bagged the books that were being checked out and how he returned them to their homes. I also saw his smile when he spoke to people, as if his smile would leave them with a bit of his light when they walked away, and how compassion was more than a part of his job description when helping older men find books about the wars, or the older women who complimented him on how much he reminded them of their sons. He'd just grin.

I really had to reevaluate who the real stalker was.

I didn't know what made me do it, but I decided to go up to the counter. Obviously, he knew I was watching him and I knew he was watching me. I didn’t see the point in hiding it, though I loathed the idea of anyone else getting wind of whatever was going on between us. Since he wasn’t at the desk, I wanted to see where he was so I could avoid being the one snuck up on. There wasn’t a line, so I went right up and waited for someone to come around to my direction. This time it was an older woman named Caroline. I’d only spoken to her once or twice because I didn’t often come during the earlier shift.

“Hi Ms. Caroline.”

“Oh, yes hello, dear.” She replied, sweet soul no taller than five feet and always called everyone “dear”.

“Hi there. I was wondering if Robbie was here.”

“Oh no dear, he isn’t in today. He had a schedule change and no longer works Wednesdays.” She explained, way more than asked for.

“Okay, thank you.” I said with a nod and a smile, and then disappeared before she could say anything else. I shook my head, feeling even more foolish than I did the day before. I didn’t get why he’d suggest he’d “see me tomorrow”. I rolled my eyes as I took the elevator up to the second floor, no longer in a mood to trek the stairs.

Coming out of it, I made a beeline for the romance section. I’d already prepared myself for the book I was going to read, researching it before I laid down the night before. I was glad the online catalog was up-to-date and the book was still there. I pulled it from the shelf and headed for my favorite spot on the floor, right in the center of the stacks that aligned the back wall. I could have gone to either corner of the floor with the couch seating and bean bags but, I liked being amid all the books.

I folded and laid down my sweatshirt that was stuffed into my backpack and sat down, crossing my legs and sitting my water bottle beside me that was tucked in the side pocket. I took the hair-tie from my wrist and wrapped my locs into a bun. I took a deep breath as I looked at the interracial couple on the cover.

“That’s a really good one.” I heard from down the aisle to my right. I looked up and felt my heart in my throat again.

“Robbie, hey.” I said, clearing my throat as I straightened my back.

“Hey.” He said back as he walked toward me.

“I thought you didn’t work today.”

“I don’t. I’m off Wednesdays now.” He sat down slowly next to me, crossing his legs and sitting his hands in his lap.

“So…so what are you doing here?”

“I said I’d see you today, wanted to offer a reading date.” He said with a smile. A reading date. My cheeks ran hot, hoping he didn’t notice the blush under my melanin skin. All I could do was smile back and open the book.