by B. B. Hamel
They stared at me after I was done talking as if they were waiting for more. I gave them a little smile and a shrug, and hoped we could drop it.
“That’s it? What did he look like?”
“Cute. Brown hair.”
Dillon let out a deep, fake sigh. “You are the worst person in the entire world at describing people. Seriously, Emma, I am appalled.”
“Yeah, I have to admit I’m with Dillon on this. Truly horrendous.”
I laughed. They were always pretending like they were on opposing sides of some war, and for the most part they were, but really I knew they liked ganging up on me more than anything else.
“What do you want me to say? He was wearing a button down shirt and khakis. He was attractive or whatever. And he had good taste in books. He was reading Dhalgren and that’s like my favorite.” I shrugged again.
“Typical of you to be more detailed about his reading selection than about his bod,” Lane said.
“So what happened, did he ask you out or something?” Dillon asked.
“Nope, I let him stay in the room, then I left. I’ll probably never see him again. End of story.”
Lane and Dillon both let out huge fake groans and leaned back into the couch.
“This is worse than the time Dillon had a thing for that straight dude in his Psych class.”
“Hey, I totally got vibes from him. Plus, his ass was fantastic,” Dillon said, grinning. “I would have changed his mind about dick.”
Lane fake-gagged and I laughed, then they started bickering about Dillon’s ability to turn straight men. I was glad that the conversation had moved away from me. As they began to dissect the poor straight dude’s butt in detail, I drifted off into my own thoughts. I wondered why I had never seen that guy before, since he so clearly was a big reader. I usually worked the third floor, but had a guess that he stuck to the second for some reason. That was good; it meant I’d probably never have to see him again. I’d never have to spend another minute wondering who he was, what else he liked to read, where he was from, all that boring, relationship stuff.
Eventually, the topic switched from Dillon’s straight crush to another reality show I’d never heard of, and I used that as an excuse to retreat back to my bedroom. I switched on the light and changed into more comfortable clothes before putting on an old Miles Davis record that my dad gave me. As the sound of his trumpet oozed from the speakers, I opened my biology textbook and tried to study, ignoring the thoughts about the guy from the library that kept popping up to break my concentration.
Chapter Three: Jim
It was late, and the campus felt empty. The streets always thinned out about an hour after dinnertime on the weekdays; most undergrads were either eating late, or they were in their dorms studying like the good students they were. Or they were at the bar drinking under age, either way, they weren’t out along the bike paths as I walked toward the library. The night was cool and comfortable, and I liked the solitude. The lunch trucks were closed or closing for the night, but the library was still brightly lit. I thought I had at least an hour before they kicked me out, so I showed my I.D. to the security guard and climbed the main staircase up to the second floor. I noticed the elevators weren’t working, although I wouldn’t have taken them anyway.
It had been a week since I last saw that girl, though I hadn’t gone searching for her. I had this recurring fantasy that involved intricate flexibility and those return carts the staff always had. As I walked, the stacks were empty save for a few scattered kids deep in books. I had to admit, Temple students weren’t all cliché college bros, drinking lots of beers and acting like idiots. For the most part, they were smart and studious, and I got along with most of them. There were some jerks, but there always would be.
I slipped through the rows of books and found Dhalgren again. I pulled it from its place and carried it back toward my usual spot, the cubby toward the back of the floor. I couldn’t believe I never noticed the little “Staff Only” sign, but nobody had ever bothered me before that girl, so I guessed it didn’t really matter either way. I opened the door and set myself up at the table again, part of me hoping that she would show up. As much as I hadn’t wanted to, I spent all that week thinking about her. There was something about her, something that made her stand out from all the other students I dealt with every day. She was serious, or maybe it was how hot she was. I had to remind myself over and over that I needed to be careful. It wasn’t technically wrong for me to date her, since she wasn’t my direct student, and I was only a few years older than she was, but dating a student of any kind was definitely frowned upon. Plus, it wasn’t exactly dating that I wanted to do with her. I was still too new to teaching to do anything to mess up my position, especially considering it was the first job I felt really good about in a long time. I kicked my feet up on a chair and opened the old, cracking spine. I found the spot I last left off and fell into the world: no more pretty girls, no more teaching stress, no more self. There was only the story.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, but the next thing I knew, there was a loud knock at the door. I nearly jumped out of my chair as I looked up and saw her: the same girl, the same annoyed expression, staring in at me.
I got up, shut the book, and opened the door. “Hey there,” I said, grinning like an idiot. I realized I was excited to see her and had to will myself to calm down.
“Library’s closed. You should have left like a half hour ago,” she said.
Shit. Was for she real? I checked my watch and sure enough, I had fallen so deep into my reading that I hadn’t noticed the time.
“I’m sorry, I got distracted,” I said, holding up the book. Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re a fan of Delaney?”
I shrugged, looking at the cover. “I guess. I’ve only read this one, but I really like it so far.”
“Dhalgren is one of my favorite books.”
“Seriously? It’s a pretty weird sci-fi novel.”
She looked pretty annoyed at that. “What do you mean, seriously? Yes, I like that book.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She cracked a small smile and shrugged. “It’s fine. But you still have to leave.”
I nodded and walked out of the room. She stepped aside for me to pass by, and I felt a thrill at being so close to her. It was a strange feeling, entirely out of my control, like my body knew what it wanted before I did.
“What’s your name, by the way?” she asked.
I stopped and looked back at her. She was wearing tight black jeans and a white, button down shirt. Her glasses topped off the cute but seriously nerdy look. She had a sexy librarian thing going on, her thin cotton shirt barely holding back her full breasts, and I wanted to tear the buttons from their holes and let her skin spill out.
“I’m Jim. What’s yours?”
“Emma. Are you a grad student, or what?”
I laughed. “No, I’m an adjunct in the music department.”
She grabbed her book cart and started to walk. I took a few steps and matched her pace. “So you teach music?” she asked.
“Yeah, music theory. What year are you?” I said.
“I’m a Junior, studying pre-med.”
“Going to be a doctor one day?”
“That’s pretty much the goal.”
“Impressive, that’s a tough major. You must be smart.”
She laughed. “I guess. I could be an idiot you know, get terrible grades and stuff. Anyone can study to become a doctor.”
I grinned. “That’s true, but something about you says you’re a good student.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s the glasses, isn’t it?”
“Yep, it’s the glasses. Makes you look very studious,” I said, teasing. I suddenly realized I was flirting with her, despite having told myself not an hour or two ago that I’d never do anything to jeopardize my position at the school.
“Maybe you’re right then,” she said.
We walked a bit further in silence until we came to the end of the stacks. We lingered there over her empty cart for another second.
“So, I need to drop this cart off, then I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t need to, it’s no big deal.”
She shrugged. “Okay. The elevators aren’t working right now, so you have to take the stairs.”
There was another short silence. I didn’t want to leave, but I knew I should. What I really wanted to do was take her into an empty study room and learn every inch of her skin. We both lingered for an awkward moment.
“Okay then. Have a good night,” I said.
“Yeah, you too,” she said. Her face was deadpan and I wondered if she was annoyed that I was using that room again. She hadn’t said anything about it, though.
I walked off without looking back, and pushed through the first stairwell I came to. The image of her face peering at me through her glasses wouldn’t get out of my head. I walked down the steps at a near jog, trying to outrun my mind’s obsessive need to think about every inch of her. I bet she looked incredible, her auburn hair spilling around her bare shoulders as she slipped my cock between her lips. I shivered, feeling my cock stir again. What was wrong with me? I had to relax. I hit the bottom of the stairs, realizing I was in an unfamiliar spot, and tried to push through the door.
The door was locked. I tried it again and again, but it wouldn’t budge. Cursing, I walked back up the steps, and tried the door I had just come through. That was locked as well.
Panic started to rise in my gut, but before I let it overtake me, I walked up to the third and final floor. I took a deep breath, tried the door, and nearly kicked the damn thing when I realized that it was locked. I leaned my back against it and let out a long breath, not sure what to do. Like a fucking idiot, I had gotten myself locked in a stairwell, and I didn’t bring my phone with me, because I didn’t like a distraction when I was teaching. I pounded on it some more, but nobody heard me, or at least nobody came and opened it.
Then I remembered her. She couldn’t have been too far from the doorway, and she might hear me if I knocked and yelled loud enough. Hopeful, I started down again.
Before I got further than a step, I heard a door below me open. I hurried my pace, nearly falling down the slick concrete.
“Hey, wait,” I yelled, skidding down and around the corner. Up ahead, I saw Emma coming through the door, and she looked up at me like I was an insane person trying to attack her.
“Wait, hold that door,” I yelled, but it was too late. By the time she realized what I was talking about, the door clicked shut behind her. She turned, a confused look on her face, and tried to push it open. It didn’t budge. She looked back at me and cursed.
I stood next to her on the landing, catching my breath, my stomach sinking, as I realized we were locked in together.
Chapter Four: Emma
I couldn’t believe I got myself locked in a stairwell with that weirdo. When I saw him an hour before the end of the night in the sorting room, reading Dhalgren again, I wanted to kick him out. I stood there debating what to do for what felt like ten minutes, but I eventually gave up and walked away. I figured he’d leave soon enough on his own anyway, and besides, nobody ever used the room. I put him out of my mind as I went back to shelving, counting the painfully slow-moving minutes until my shift ended.
As I was closing up, for some reason I decided to check and make sure the idiot knew the library was about to be locked. Sure enough, there he was, still engrossed in his book. I couldn’t completely blame him; it was a really good read. Still, he was oblivious to everything around him.
He turned out to be okay. He was an adjunct professor, not a grad student, which made him a little bit cooler in my mind. His name was Jim, and he was a little funny, but still cocky. I offered to walk him out, in case the night guards gave him shit for still being around passed closing, but he declined. I didn’t feel like pushing the issue, and he took off after a nice weird awkward pause.
I couldn’t let myself get hung up on him. It was definitely a coincidence that the two times I had worked on the second floor he’d been in that same room. It was definitely meaningless that I thought he was cute, and felt butterflies in my stomach when I looked through the window on the door and saw him reading stretched out across two chairs. It’s not like I was a little kid or something; I didn’t get crushes like that. I wheeled my cart into the storage room and lined it up with the others, still ruminating about our weird conversation. Without thinking too much about it, I decided to take the back staircase since it spit me directly outside instead of having to walk through the main foyer.
As soon as I pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the staircase, I heard a familiar voice. I looked up, confused, as Jim tore around the corner.
“Wait, hold that door!” he called. I had no clue what he was talking about, and by the time I thought to turn around and push the cross bar, nothing happened. I pushed again and again, and nothing.
“Are we fucking locked in here?” I said.
He took a deep breath, and then let it out. “Yeah, we are.”
“You have to be kidding me. Are they all locked?”
He nodded. “They’re all locked.”
Shit, that had to be a joke. I ran up to the third floor and pushed the door. Locked. I ran back down to the first floor and pushed the door. Locked. I kicked it and yelled, but I doubted anyone would hear me. Jim sat down at the landing between the floors and looked at me.
“Do you have a phone?” he asked.
“Yeah, don’t you?”
“I leave mine at home when I teach. Can you call someone?”
Right, that was a fantastic idea. I pulled my phone from my bag and scrolled through the contacts. I could call Lane, and if she got there fast enough, the night guards could let us out. I found her name and tapped the call button, then waited.
I got her voicemail. I cursed, and tried again. I got voicemail again, cursed louder, and called again. I got voicemail for a third time, and was ready to smash my phone.
“You okay?” Jim asked me.
“I’m fine, but my friend isn’t answering.”
“Is there anyone else you can call?”
I realized how incredibly frazzled I was to be stuck with him. I kept glancing up at him, at his handsome face and attractive smile, and wanted to run my fingers through his hair. Nodding, I scrolled trough my phone, and called Dillon.
“Sup bitch,” he answered.
“Jesus, am I happy to hear your voice,” I said, relieved.
“No shit, I’m fantastic. What’s up?”
“Dillon, please come to the library. I’m stuck in a stairwell.”
There was a short pause. “Are you joking?”
“No, I’m not joking. Me and this other guy are stuck in the back stairwell. All the doors are locked.”
“You and ‘this other guy,’ huh. Is he cute? Should I take my sweet time?” There was a playful tone in this voice. I looked up at Jim, who was watching me intently, and felt myself blush.
“Seriously Dillon, not the moment for jokes. Please just come find a guard and get us out of here.”
“Chill, I’m on it. Dillon, night in shining armor, coming to the rescue.”
I let out a breath. “Thanks Dillon. See you soon.”
“Now go get your flirt on girl,” he said then hung up.
I locked my phone and put it away. “My friend Dillon is on his way.”
Jim nodded, still watching me closely. I felt a little weird to be the subject of such an intense gaze, but part of me liked it, too. I wondered what was running through his mind.
“Thanks for doing that,” he said.
I walked half way up the stairs closer to him, and then sat down, my back against the wall.
“Yeah, I mean, it was either that or spend the night in here with you.”
“I guess that would be horrible,” he said, grinning.
I gave him a lo
ok. “You could be a murderer for all I know.”
He laughed. “You could be a murderer too. Or worse.”
“I work here, you’re just a random guy.”
“I teach here, remember?”
“You have a point there, Jimmy.”
He shook his head. “Nobody calls me that.”
I shrugged. “I guess I’ll be the only one, then.”
I had no idea why, but I realized I was flirting with him. Really childishly, too, and I was afraid he would see right through me. I didn’t have much practice if I was honest with myself. I’ve had boyfriends in the past, but they were all temporary, and none of them lasted very long, either. I usually lost interest or I was too busy to put much effort into keeping them around. They inevitably got sick of being second to my studies, and wandered off. I was never very upset about it. At a certain point, getting a boyfriend naturally became a secondary concern, pushed off into the margins of my life.
Not that I wanted this guy to be my boyfriend. As my pulse began to quicken, I realized I wanted something from him, but I wasn’t sure it was a relationship.
“So what are you doing with the rest of your night?” Jim asked me after a short silence.
“Why, so you can stalk me?”
“Just trying to make friendly conversation,” he said.
I glowered at him. I shouldn’t be such a dick for no reason, it wasn’t his fault I suddenly was imagining what his lips tasted like.
“Probably studying,” I said.
He nodded as if that was what he expected. “Like I said, you seem like a good student.”
“I’m not always a good student.”
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and what’s that mean?”
I blushed and looked away. “Nothing, I was kidding.”
“Where are you from, anyway?” he said, changing the subject.
“Valley Forge,” I said. “Pretty small town, not a lot to do out there. You?”