The Library Agreement

16

I love him.

I actually really love him.

And it's not the kind of love I had with Parker. Parker was almost like a substitute, a Band-Aid. He was someone who stepped into my life at just the right time—with his smooth words and calm voice and understanding demeanor. He was someone who helped me forget about the pain of adoption and a rocky past.

Parker was a reason to forget.

And then there's Charlie. Charlie, someone who I never even considered myself to be associated with, someone who only knows who I am because of an agreement we made at two o' clock in the morning. Charlie Portman, with his forties lingo and black-and-white movies and love for all things literature. Charlie is someone who acknowledges my past and faces it head-on. He does not help me forget.

Charlie is a reason to remember.

The stark contrast between the two is overwhelming and evident, even as I sit there, staring at Charlie Portman, who just kissed me. Or did I kiss him?

Either way, it's out in the open now. There's no taking back what has happened.

And, the thing is, I'm not scared. Not one bit.

Not like I would be if it were someone else confessing their feelings. No, if the person sitting before me was anyone but Charlie, I would be completely freaking out.

But it's not someone else. It's Charlie Portman. The library kid.

The kid who promised to keep all of my secrets.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to say that," he breathes, and I laugh, although the tears are still damp on my cheeks.

"Thank you." I say, leaning forward and pressing my lips to his cheek—something I've only done once before, and that was when he was dead asleep.

Charlie smiles at me, though I still see the flicker of anger passing over his gaze.

"Charlie, it's in the past," I whisper. "It's in the past—it happened so long ago. Parker is a high-school dropout, and his friends are idiots who got their lives ruined later on down the road because of him. They're all getting punished for the way they acted when they were younger. I don't hate them. For a long time, I did. But not anymore."

"But—but that night," he says, the note of hysteria in his voice once more. "The night you came to me. They were—they were chasing after you. They were going to hurt you. They would have hurt you if we didn't lock the door."

I pinch my eyes closed, trying to regulate my breathing.

"But you were there." I say finally, after a few beats of heavy silence. "You were there, and you helped me. They left. They're going to leave me alone, as long as you stick around."

I finish my sentence with a weak chuckle, and he tightens his grip on my hand.

"You'd better believe it." He says. "'Cause I'm not going anywhere."

________

Hailey Richards loves me.

I still can't quite register that fact.

I didn't know someone could find feel this way—so full of hope and joy and elation and giddiness and so many other things, indescribable things. I didn't know I was capable of feeling this much.

But I am. I know I am, especially as I sit there, holding her hand, her kiss still burning on my lips.

The sun has set; all that's left is the pink-streaked sky, looking as if someone went up there and painted it themselves. The clouds are delicate against the bold colors, moving in and out, flecked with grays and blues. My breath catches a little as I realize the intricacy of the sky tonight—it looks like it could be on display at a gallery, and that simply amazes me. It amazes me that even the sky, something that no one can reach, can make itself beautiful.

I'm about to open my mouth to comment on the sky, but when I turn, I see that Hailey is slightly pivoted towards the exit, narrowing her eyes.

There stands April, the ticket girl, waving her arms for us to come in.

"My shift is over right now!" She shouts. "I can't let you stay if I'm not here to give authorization."

"Okay," Hailey calls back, glancing back at me and flashing a smile.

"I've heard there's some good restaurants in town," she says, getting to her feet and shaking out her towel. "If you're up to grabbing a bite."

I nod, a little enthusiastically, but I'm not afraid to admit it—I never want this night to end.

"Sounds good," I say, and I can literally hear the smile creeping onto my face.

She nods once, sucking in her cheek, before turning and beginning to walk to the exit. Then, she pauses, standing rigid on the sand, releasing a deep breath.

"Hailey?" I ask warily, and she shakes her head, not looking at me.

"The last time I left this place, I left alone." She whispers. "I don't want to repeat history."

Understanding, I take her outstretched hand, lacing her fingers in mine and giving a small squeeze. Hailey grins up at me, and I press a light kiss to her temple.

"Let's go, then."

As we leave Lake Busbee, I hug April the ticket girl. She blushes wildly and returns the gesture quickly, and Hailey just smiles, because she understands. None of this would have happened without her.

"Well, I'm always here if you need me." She says, with a wink. "And next time, I'll give you a discount!"

I nod with a smile—because there's definitely going to be a next time. Hailey pulls her into a hug of her own, whispering something in her ear—and I swear I see her slip April some cash or something.

And then we walk to my truck, separating to our different sides, pulling out of the parking lot and driving away with the remaining rays of sunlight illuminating Lake Busbee—the place of Hailey's worst nightmare and my first love.