The Library Agreement

04

I have to wait until fifth period until Charlie Portman even acknowledges my existence.

And it's not like he actually talks to me in fifth period. He doesn't even make eye contact.

I sit in fifth period, watching the back of his head, unable to focus on the lesson or what the teacher is writing on the whiteboard. All I know is that he's sitting in front of me, and he's writing something down in his notebook, and occasionally, his hand will come to a standstill on the page, and he will rap his knuckles against the desk a few times before starting up again.

I watch this somewhat queer behavior for a while, my curiosity piqued.

But then he turns around, his crystal-blue eyes clashing against mine, and my breath hitches in my throat. I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks, and realize that my blush is a dead giveaway. He knows I've been watching him.

I drop my gaze, ashamed and praying that no one else sees, but I see his hand on my desk and glance up once more.

"Thank you," he mouths, and my brow furrows.

For what?

And then he tears the piece of paper from his notebook, the one he's been writing in all period long. He turns once more, slides it on to my desk, and goes back to his former position without a word.

I am finding it harder and harder to breathe.

My heart pounds in my chest as I glance down at the paper, that he delivered so conspicuously that I doubt anyone could have noticed, even if they were looking straight at us.

On the paper, in surprisingly neat handwriting, are the words:

THE LIBRARY AGREEMENT

Terms and Conditions

I nearly scoff, thinking back to last night. Does this little "agreement" really mean that much to him? What's at stake, anyways?

Shaking my head, I read on nevertheless.

This is a documentation of the Library Agreement, held between Miss Hailey Richards and Mr. Charlie Portman. Both keepers of the agreement are obliged to keep to the following rules.

1) Charlie Portman will keep any secret Hailey Richards desires to tell him, which will probably be none, because she most likely thinks he is an ignorant horse's rear who is not worthy of her time.

I chuckle under my breath at this, knowing that it is most likely true. But I can't help feeling just the faintest flutter in my stomach at the words.

2) In turn, Hailey Richards will never tell anyone about Charlie Portman's job. It is of the utmost importance that no one knows about the library, much less this agreement.

This is what gets to me. Charlie doesn't seem like the kind of person who cares about his reputation so much to the point where he will go to great lengths—this kind of length—to maintain such a perfect appearance. It's kind of unnerving, what he is asking of me.

But no more library fines, I tell myself, and the thought is wiped completely from my mind as I continue to read.

3) In exchange for her secret-keeping, Charlie Portman will gift Hailey Richards with free library books (no fines) that may be returned at anytime she pleases. She will also have the opportunity to ask for recommendations, and they will be given gladly.

4) However, these things are only available to Miss Hailey Richards if she goes to the Reidville Library between the hours of Midnight and 2 A.M.

And the list ends. I stare at it, reading the rules over and over. Why would he give this to me? This is just a list of everything we went over last night—it's not like I need reminding.

But then I see a little arrow in the corner, written neatly in pen, urging me to flip over the paper.

I do, and there is a concluding paragraph. It takes all the strength I possess to resist smiling.

Thus concludes the Terms & Conditions of The Library Agreement. Below are the signatures of both participants. This document is to be kept safe and hidden from everyone, excluding Hailey Richards and Charlie Portman. This agreement is to be kept until no longer in use.

I scan below the paragraph and see two straight lines—one of which has already been filled with Charlie's signature. I trace my finger along the edges of his nice, loopy handwriting, wishing so badly that I could have his penmanship.

But I pick up my purple-ink ballpoint and scrawl down my signature in the blank across from his own, writing as nicely as I possibly can.

And there it is. The Library Agreement, in its entirety. No more, no less.

So, careful to not make any noise, I slide the filled-out piece of notebook paper onto the corner of Charlie's desk. He turns slightly to look at me, looks down at the page to inspect my signature, and shoots me a thumbs-up that I just have to return.

I release a breath. Okay. I can do this. I can cope with a silly little agreement. There's nothing bad about it. It's innocent. Simple.

Just one more secret to keep.

I can do that.

At least, I think I can.