Chapter 1
1286 Words
Chapter 1
I’m looking at the sign above the library with my hands deep in my pockets, and I’m biting my bottom lip, trying to find the courage to enter, when my phone rings.
It’s my mother, and as she starts listing recommendations and giving advice. I just grunt in reply. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m trying to do something here, and I’d appreciate having a few minutes to mentally prepare myself before taking the first step in this new direction.
I click off her call, but the phone rings again. This time it’s my father, asking if I got there safe and sound. I can’t blame him, considering what happened to me.
After speaking briefly with him, I hang up and the phone rings again. Really? I look up at the sky and snort. Jeez!
Charlene, A.K.A. Charlie. My first girlfriend. And my last. We dated in high school, when I was trying to convince myself I was heterosexual. It didn’t work, of course, but she was—and remains—my best friend. She’s married to Frank, a good man who loves her in the way she deserves. So everyone’s happy. Almost.
“Charlie, what’s up?” I ask, staring at the door of the library.
“Why are you answering?”
“Because you called me?”
“No, I mean, you’re supposed to be at work. This is your first day.”
“I know that, and maybe, just maybe, if you all stopped calling me, I could do that.”
“Well, I was just checking.”
“So did my parents.”
“Oh, that’s sweet!”
“Yes, it’s sweet, but I should go now.”
“Okay, honey. Will you call me later? I’m curious to hear all about your first day!”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Good. Go and kill them all!”
“Charlie, I’m not Spartacus and you’re not Sura. This is just a library.”
“Damn! A real charmer, aren’t you?”
“It’s as if you don’t know me.”
“I know you and I love you, but your social skills need polishing.”
“Charlie…”
“Okay, go. See you later, dear!”
I hang up, smiling and turning the phone off before taking a long, deep breath. Ready to—
“Oh, is this a library?”
The voice comes from behind me and it makes me turn around. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from answering with something sarcastic like, No, it’s a butcher’s store.
Again, what the hell is going on? Has the entire universe decided not to let me go to work?
“Yes,” I reply, finding the courage to glance over at the guy next to me.
He is smiling. Actually, he’s staring at me and I realize I’m waiting to see a hint of disgust in his eyes, but I can’t find it. Considering I always keep my head down, almost sunken between my shoulders, it’s possible he can’t see my face very well. Or at all. That would be even better.
I can’t help but notice how cute his smile is, and how beautiful his face is. He’s a bit taller than me, lean, with broad shoulders. The white shirt he wears is tightly-fitted against his chest and the sleeves are short enough to give me a glimpse of his tattoos. His hair is curly and honey-blond, and it falls softly into his pale green eyes. I don’t even remember the last time I noticed so many details on a guy. Maybe my self-imposed isolation has worked wonders on me.
The truth is, I’m not used to looking at other men when I’m dating someone. I blink away my inappropriate thoughts. The stranger’s proximity makes me nervous.
He must have asked me something because he’s looking at me with a puzzled expression. I was completely lost in my own train of thought there for a moment, and I feel my cheeks burn.
“So?” he asks with a smile.
“So what?”
“I asked if you work here.”
“Oh. Yeah, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
God, I feel so stupid!
“Maybe, yes. It’s…well, it’s my first day. And I’d love to go inside, but it seems the whole world doesn’t want me to.” My voice is only slightly above a low mumble.
“Well, okay,” he replies, still smiling. “I didn’t mean to hold you up, sorry. It’s just that my tattoo parlor is around the corner and I wanted to take a look around before opening. It’s the first day for me, too.”
Oh.
“Do you like tattoos?” he asks, not intimidated by my silence.
“Y-yes, I like them.”
“Do you have any?”
What the hell? No. I don’t have a tattoo. I have a damn scar on my f*****g face! Can’t you see it?
My grumpy side is pushing to be heard, as poisonous as ever.
“No.”
“Not that I want to be forward, but if you do decide to get one, now you know where you can find me, okay?”
“O-okay.”
This guy could sell ice to Alaskans!
“What time do you start work?”
Oh, please, leave me alone!
“In a few minutes.”
“You’re not very talkative, are you?”
“No.”
“Got it.”
I want to add something, because I feel like an asshole, but my words remain stubbornly glued to my tongue. This poor guy is just trying to be nice, and he doesn’t know it’s really hard for me to even try and be easygoing.
“Sean!”
First I hear the voice, and then this giant man appears a few yards away.
Sean—now I know the guy’s name—smiles at me again before pointing his thumb behind his back.
“That’s Stuart,” he says.
I have to lift my chin to look at the newcomer, and I hate the thought of my hair slipping away, revealing more than I’d like to show. The guy is huge.
I’m not short, and neither is Sean, but Stuart is a giant. He has long, black hair gathered in a ponytail, dark skin and, of course, he’s covered in tattoos. He looks like he might be Native American.
Suddenly I realize something about his name and I can’t help but chuckle. Stuart…as in the little mouse from that movie—Stuart Little. The perfect name for him.
Sean is regarding me with an amused look on his handsome face. “Did I say something funny?” he asks with a quiet smile.
“Oh, no. Not at all!” Classy. I can be like a bull in a china shop.
“Oh. Well, thanks a lot, huh.”
I clear my throat. “No. I mean…it’s not something you said.”
“Then what? You were giggling.”
Please, someone shoot me! No, wait. Was I giggling? Seriously?
I feel myself blushing again and I can’t help but look away.
“It’s just…Stuart. I thought about the movie. Stuart Little. But he’s huge.” There, now I feel like a complete i***t.
Sean laughs so loud I can’t help but stare at him, bewildered.
“You’re funny!” he exclaims, nodding.
Funny? Who? Me?
“I don’t think so. Well, see you, okay?” I whisper, leaving him there like a broken doll with a puzzled look while I bounce up the steps into the library.
I never thought it would be so difficult to talk to someone I don’t know. I feel a bit sorry for Sean, but I don’t even know him. If my employment here lasts more than one day, maybe I’ll have a chance to meet him again. And maybe apologize, who knows?
* * * *
Once inside, I take another deep breath and look around.
The library is quiet and there’s this smell of wood, dust, and paper that makes me feel good in a weird way. It’s like being in a safe place. It’s like being wrapped in warmth.
“Ryan, right?”
A voice comes from behind me, and I turn to look at a very short woman in her fifties. She wears a huge smile on her cute, heart-shaped face.
“Right,” I say, trying to smile, always afraid of being creepy—because when I smile, my scar makes my face move in a weird way.
The woman, however, doesn’t seem to notice, and I’m grateful. For a second my thoughts go to Sean, who didn’t seem to notice it, either.
“I’m Margaret, but you can call me Meg. I’ll show you to your workstation,” she says, nodding toward a desk. “You’ll be stationed here, at the reception desk. You’ll get cards for the new members, and mark up all books coming in and going out. The software is really easy to use. When someone has a book for too long, you’ll get a message from the system and just have to make a call to remind them to return the book. You’ll soon find out which customers are our good ones and which ones are not, but believe me, it can be a lot of fun. You’ll get to meet so many different people.”
That’s the only thing I don’t like. The rest sounds perfect.
- Writer
