Yours truly, Elanah

Almost Banned

The hushed sanctity of the library was my usual sanctuary, a place where the scent of aging paper and the soft rustle of turning pages acted as a balm to my often-chaotic thoughts. Today, however, the focus was different. Tucked away in a corner booth, partially shielded by a towering shelf of forgotten classics, I was meticulously transcribing bits and pieces of overheard conversations and fleeting observations into my small, nondescript notebook. This wasn't re bycreational reading; this was data collection. Information about... well, about the peculiar tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever Ma'am Florence was near Lila.

My pen scratched softly against the page, detailing a look, a gesture, a hushed word. I was so engrossed, lost in the delicate task of capturing subtleties, that I almost missed the subtle shift in the air around me. A faint, unfamiliar scent – something slightly musky, definitely not library dust – registered just as the hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

Someone is behind me.

My heart leaped into my throat. This notebook held theories, suspicions, things I wasn't ready for anyone to see. Without thinking, I slammed the cover shut, the sound a shockingly loud THWACK in the quiet space, and spun around, clutching the notebook protectively against my chest.

Standing there, just inches away, was Theo Angeles.

He wasn't just standing; he was leaning slightly, a cool, confident smirk playing on his lips. Those sharp eyes, usually focused on dissecting literature or acing pop quizzes, were fixed entirely on me.

"You should've closed it faster," he spoke, his voice a low murmur that still managed to cut through the silence. "Now I know everything."

My blood ran cold. Gosh no way... No way... My mind raced. Did he actually see? Everything? What was "everything" to him? The jumbled notes, the circled names, the paranoid scribbles? This was a disaster. A total, unmitigated bad move, a terrible idea ever to write this down where someone like Theo – observant, sometimes annoyingly insightful Theo – could see it.

He must have seen the sheer panic flash across my face, the way my grip tightened on the notebook until my knuckles were white. The smirk softened, replaced by something... gentler. He didn't move closer, but instead, he casually pulled out the chair opposite mine at the small table and sat down.

"Hey," he said, his tone dropping to a soothing level, surprisingly un-Theo-like. "It's okay. I won't tell a soul."

He paused, letting that sink in, watching my frantic expression. Then, he added, confirming my worst fears about what he might have glimpsed, "I actually also noticed the way Ma'am Florence looked at Lila." He nodded slowly, validating my hidden observations. "Yeah. A whole look of concern."

Still, words wouldn't come. My throat felt tight, my mind buzzing with 'what ifs'. Could I trust him? Why was he even looking at them?

Theo shifted, leaning back in the chair. A hint of the earlier smirk returned, but it was less predatory now, more... resigned? "Okay, look, don't look at me like I just discovered a secret stash of f*******n snacks. I feel guilty just for startling you. Tell you what, I'll buy you lunch tomorrow. Just... don't make me feel guilty."

Hahaysttt... Leave it to Theo to turn a potential espionage disaster into a weird, unexpected offer of food. The sheer absurdity of it, combined with the lingering fear and the unexpected relief that he wasn't going to expose me, made my head spin a little.

Before I could formulate any kind of response – whether gratitude, indignant refusal, or just a strangled sound – a sharp, distinctive cough echoed from the main desk. Mrs. Vasquez, the librarian whose glare could quiet a stampede, was watching us over the top of her spectacles. Her lips were pursed.

"Mr. Angeles, and... you, dear," she said, her voice a low, carrying warning. "While I appreciate students utilizing the library space, flirting inside the library is strictly forbidden."

My eyes went wide. Flirting?! We were talking about potential mysteries and bribe-lunches!

"...We will not have such disruptive behaviour," she continued, her gaze fixed on us like twin lasers. "If I witness this again, I will have no choice but to revoke your library privileges. Bypassing the library for both of you, understand?"

My face instantly felt like it was on fire. Theo, to his credit (or maybe just reflecting my own horror), looked momentarily stunned, the smirk completely vanishing. He quickly straightened up, clearing his throat and muttering something about 'assigned seats'. I, on the other hand, simply nodded frantically, unable to speak or even look at Theo.

As soon as Mrs. Vasquez turned her attention back to her desk, I practically leaped from the chair, shoving the notebook into my bag with clumsy haste. I mumbled a barely audible "Sorry!" in Theo's general direction, not daring to meet his eyes, and practically power-walked out of the library, the heat blooming on my cheeks radiating outwards.

I walked out pink-faced, the librarian's accusation ringing in my ears, the image of Theo's reaction burned into my mind, and the terrifying knowledge that he knew something about my investigation – and had offered to buy me lunch for it – swirling in my head.

The walk to the bus stop felt longer than usual. Boarding the bus, I scanned the familiar faces, half-expecting to see Ma'am Florence in her usual seat near the front, perhaps looking just as anxious about Lila as Theo and I had observed. But her seat was empty. It was strange; she almost always rode this bus home. Another small, confusing detail to add to the growing list.

Finally home, I didn't even bother changing out of my uniform. I just dropped my bag by the door and collapsed onto the cool wooden floor of my room, spreading myself out like a starfish. The silence of the house pressed in, a stark contrast to the events of the afternoon.

Lying there, staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind refused to settle. The encounter with Theo played on repeat. The panic, the relief, Mrs. Vasquez's mortifying accusation... And then, unbidden, the memory of Theo's smile flashed in my mind. Not the initial smirk, but the softer one when he'd reassured me, or maybe the slightly bewildered one when Mrs. Vasquez had cornered us.

It was confusing. Maddening. Now the mystery of Ma'am Florence and Lila felt intertwined with the unexpected complication of Theo Angeles, the boy who knew my secret and wanted to buy me lunch. And for some reason, despite the embarrassment and the fear, the thought of that smile made my face feel warm all over again. This investigation was getting way more complicated than I'd anticipated.