Of course, what I really wanted was for him to ask me on a real date. I went over and over it in my head. Different scenes, different conversations, but always with the same outcome. He’d lean forward, rest his hand on my cheek, and ask me to go to dinner. Maybe out dancing, too.
In my mind he’d take me somewhere romantic, with little twinkling lights and candles. We’d eat and laugh and he’d tell me I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever met.
Usually right about then my mom would get home and I’d snap back to reality, hide his picture, and tell her all about my day, carefully leaving out any details about the dark-eyed boy who was always right there, in the front of my mind, on the tip of my tongue.
The four days leading up to Tuesday were agony. I couldn’t wait to see him again. I tried on countless outfits trying to find the perfect one. I had imaginary conversations with him in room, occasionally acting them out. But when library day finally rolled around again, my stomach twisted into knots, and I didn’t think I could do it.
I braided and unbraided my hair, telling myself I wanted it to be perfect when in fact I was stalling, debating on whether I should go at all. Daydreaming had been perfect. In my fantasy life, it all worked out the way I wanted it to. But in real life, there were only two ways this could go.
One, he wouldn’t like me. He would realize I was boring, or not that cute, or any number of things that could cause him to decide I just wasn’t good enough for him. And I would be crushed.
Two, he would like me. Somehow he would see something in me and want to be with me. And I would have to say no.
On the one hand, what was the point of hoping for something with Zander that I knew I couldn’t have? It wasn’t fair to either of us. It was, in fact, a ridiculous thing to even consider.
On the other hand, how could I possibly not go, knowing he’d be there waiting for me? Perhaps I could see him just one more time. It would be rude to just not show up.
There was one other thing needling me. I tried to ignore it, but fear circled in my stomach. Whether I was afraid things wouldn’t work out with Zander, or afraid they would, I couldn’t quite say.
Chapter Three
Zander
“I can’t,” I told Blake, turning down yet another invitation to hang out. “I have stuff to do today.”
“Like what? School’s out. You aren’t working. What have you been up to?”
If I fessed up about seeing Anya, I’d be given copious amounts of crap for not asking her out yet. Blake loved giving me crap about my lack of finesse with the ladies, and I didn’t want to hear it. Besides, I’d already decided today was the day.
“I’m job hunting,” I lied. It was the thing I should have been doing. I needed to find a job, preferably near the college, before I started classes in the fall. But it was only June. I had plenty of time. And this was my last free summer, probably for the rest of my life. “We can hang tonight, okay?”
“Fine,” Blake grumbled. “I’m bringing Call of Duty, and I’m totally going to kick your ass.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, laughing. Blake was my cousin, my first best friend, and my future roommate. Video games had always been our shared passion, even back when it was Mario Kart.
I hung up, checked my hair in the bathroom mirror, mentally smacked myself for becoming one of those guys who checks his hair, and headed to the library.
Anya was sitting on the couch texting when I walked in. “Hi,” I said, and she jumped a little.
“Hi.” She shoved her cell into her bag. For half a second, I wondered who she’d been texting, but I shook it off. I was just psyching myself out. I sat next to her, gathering my courage. If I didn’t ask her right away, I’d probably chicken out.
“Hey, so.” I wiped my hand down the front of my face. “I was wondering if you’d want to go out sometime. Like to a movie, or dinner. With me.”
Her face didn’t move. Like, she didn’t even blink. She just stared at me, and I could actually feel myself shrinking, shriveling up into a knot of stupidity right there on the couch.
She’s probably been texting her boyfriend.
“We hardly know each other.” Her voice was soft and she turned away from me, looking down at her hands. She wasn’t wrong, but isn’t that the point of dating? Getting to know people?
“Oh, right,” I said, wondering if there was more to it than that. “You’re probably already seeing someone.” I threw it out there, not sure what I wanted to hear. I mean, of course I hoped she wasn’t seeing anyone. But on the other hand, at least that’s a reason for her to say no. Better than if she just found me completely unappealing.
“No. No, I’m not seeing anyone.” She tapped her foot on the floor, the vibration running up her leg and shaking the couch cushions. “Could we keep meeting here? Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Was it? I didn’t know if this was her version of “can we still be friends,” or if she really meant she wanted to get to know each other better before going on a real date. If it was the former, I wasn’t all that interested. It’s hard to be “just friends” with someone you want to make out with.
“Great.” She smiled, and I couldn’t help smiling back. But my stomach still felt off. I wasn’t up for sitting around, talking books, and doing nothing.
“I should probably get going. I have all this stuff I need to get done, job applications and stuff.” I stood up, and her face fell. “You’ll be here Thursday, though, right? Or next Tuesday?”
“Every Tuesday and Thursday. Like clockwork.”
“Why?” The word was out before I realized how rude it sounded. Her face flushed, and she turned toward the window. When she looked back at me, any sign of embarrassment was gone.
“It’s my favorite place.”
She was odd, there was no denying that, but it made her interesting. Like a puzzle I still had to figure out. Of course first I needed her to give me all the pieces.
“I’ll see you later,” I said, and I meant it. Being shot down sucked, but I wasn’t quite ready to give up.
Anya
Sometimes I hate my life. Like when cute boys ask me out and I have to say no because my mom would freak out at the very thought of me on a date.
Sure, it was the first time such a thing had ever happened, but it definitely stunk.
I had played that moment, Zander asking me out, in my head so many times. Although in my daydreams, he was usually gazing into my eyes, not his lap. And in my daydreams, I was able to give a different answer.
I tried to be angry with Mom, after all, if it wasn’t for her, I could have said yes. But would I have? I wasn’t sure. When he actually asked me, and I thought about meeting him somewhere at night, in the dark, full of people I didn’t know, my throat clenched shut.
It was far nicer to daydream. Daydreams are safe.
But when he left, a new fear started circling me. What if he didn’t come back? He said he would, but perhaps he was just trying to be nice, or make the moment less awkward. It’s not like he’d say, “Well, in that case, I guess I’ll never see you again. Bye.”
If he did come back, would he ask me out again? Did I want him to? Yes screamed in one ear. No whispered in the other.
I knew many people would have resented the small world I lived in. The small circle that centered in my room and extended to include my house, the library, and nothing else. But I knew my world inside and out, and I liked it. I liked feeling safe. Perhaps because the beginning of my life hadn’t been. Maybe. It’s not like I remembered.
I wanted to be carefree, and in a way I had been, even if it was only within my bubble. I’d let Zander inside that bubble and already “carefree” had disappeared. I could tell it wouldn’t be back any time soon, either. Whether he came back to the library again or not, whether he asked me out again or not, I’d be thinking about him. Wishing for one thing, then the other.
It was nerve-wracking. And a lot more exciting.
Chapter Four
&
nbsp; Zander
I got there before we’d planned to meet, wanting to beat her this time. It worked. The library was more or less empty. I walked through the rows of books, picking one I’d already read twice and taking it with me to the small couch in the back.
At first I couldn’t get into it. My eyes constantly drifted to the door, waiting for her to show up. Eventually the words won out, and I got lost in the book. The sound of footsteps nearby pulled me out of the story, but it wasn’t her. A man in wire-rimmed glasses shuffled through the cookbooks, taking them off the shelf and examining them at arm’s length.
I glanced at the clock. Almost half an hour had slipped by. I grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket to double check, but the clock on the wall was right. Where was she?
I got up and looked out the window, but there was no sign of her. She wasn’t really that late. I didn’t need to freak out yet, but nerves ate at my stomach anyway. What if she’d changed her mind? I had no way of reaching her.
A female voice called my name and I turned around, but it wasn’t Anya. Samantha, a girl from my chemistry class last year, was smiling at me, waving.
“Hey, Zander, how’s your summer going?”
“Fine,” I said, distracted but trying to be polite.
She told me about her summer classes and days at the pool, babbling on while I stole glances at the door, the window, the clock. As the hands moved around and around, I paid less and less attention to the girl talking in front of me. She didn’t seem to notice. Apparently it wasn’t necessary for me to add to the conversation.
Finally, Anya appeared in the doorway. I smiled, but she stopped short, clutching her books to her chest. I put my hand on Samantha’s shoulder to interrupt her, not knowing how else to stop the steady flow of words coming out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, but I’m supposed to be meeting someone. It was nice talking to you.”
I stepped around her and headed to the door, but Anya was gone. I ran down the steps and out the front door. She was already halfway down the sidewalk. “Anya,” I called out. She stopped and slowly turned around, her cell phone in her hand. Her cheeks were the same light pink as her dress.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said as I caught up with her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here, and then you looked busy, so I thought maybe I’d just…” She looked over her shoulder.
“You can’t leave. I’ve been waiting for you forever.” I grinned at her to let her know I wasn’t mad. “Come on.” I held out my arm. She bit down on her smile.
“Okay.” She hit a couple buttons on her cell, stuck it in her pocket, linked her arm through mine, and let me lead her back inside.
I was acutely aware of her skin touching mine. The stretch of skin down my arm that met hers was on fire. I needed to say something, to show her that touching her didn’t turn me into a speechless freak that only wanted to touch her more. Even though that’s what I was.
“Read anything good lately?” I asked, and she laughed. “What?”
“Sorry, it just sounds so generic. Read any good books lately?” She lowered her voice to sound like me. “Lovely weather we’re having. How about them Vikings?”
“Okay, well, I’m sorry I’m not entertaining enough for you.” I laughed, and she bumped her hip into my side, sending shockwaves through my body.
“You’re plenty entertaining,” she said with a smile, and somehow I managed to smile back in a way that I hoped didn’t look like I was leering.
We spent the rest of the day talking about books and movies and photography and all kinds of other things until the library closed.
I met her again the following Thursday. And every Tuesday and Thursday after that. We didn’t schedule it anymore. Those were the days she went, so I went, too. I looked forward to hanging out with her, but seeing her twice a week was not enough. Hopefully it had been enough to make her change her “no” to a “yes.” She couldn’t argue we didn’t know each other anymore. It was time to get out of the library.
Anya
Zander and I sat together on the couch. The smell of books filled the air, a scent I now associated with him. As if I needed another reason to love the library.
“You’ve never seen The Princess Bride?” he asked, his voice suddenly much too loud for the library. I laughed and shushed him, and he clamped his hand over his mouth, looking around to see if we’d be scolded. He moved closer to me and lowered his voice. His dark brown hair fell across his forehead, and my fingers itched to brush it back.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe you’ve never seen it. My sister used to make me watch it all the time. You’d love it. You totally look like the girl in that movie.” Zander leaned in, his lips so close to my skin I could feel the warmth of his breath.
You’re supposed to get butterflies in your stomach, but it seemed mine hadn’t been properly informed. Instead butterflies danced in my head. They spun and flew, making me dizzy and lightheaded. The beating of their tiny wings made my ears and cheeks tingle. Clearly they were messing with my brain, because with Zander this close to me, I could not think clearly.
We always stayed until the library closed. I didn’t know how he spent the rest of his days. In fact, I tried not to think about it. Tuesdays and Thursdays were mine, and I was thankful for them.
He always showed up right when the library opened, and so did I. Then one afternoon he asked the question I’d been dreaming about and dreading in equal measure.
“Anya, I was wondering if, since we know each other better now…” he stammered, staring at the book on his lap, one I had recommended to him. He ran his hand over the back of his neck. One side of his dark gray polo collar was sticking up. Without thinking, I reached up and turned it down again, my fingers brushing against his neck. Little sparks lit up my fingertips. His eyes locked on mine, and I quickly pulled my hand away, slipping it into my lap and hoping he wouldn’t notice how it shook.
“I was wondering if we could go out sometime,” he continued. “Could I take you to dinner? Or a movie?”
My heart stopped. I hated what I was about to say, and a small part of me, a part that rarely acted up, hated my mother for it. I no longer feared going out with Zander. Or, at least, I feared it way less than not going out with Zander.
“I can’t.” The words were bitter on my tongue.
“Oh. Okay.” He was still for a minute, then he shut the book and started to gather up his things. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
“Wait,” I said, grabbing his arm. “I’d love to go out with you. It’s just that… I can’t.” I thought about the girl I’d seen him with before, the look on her face when he’d touched her arm. She would have eagerly said yes to anything he asked of her.
“Um, okay.” His eyebrows knit together, and he shook his head a little. “I don’t understand,” he finally said. “I thought, I mean, we hang out all the time. I thought you—”
“My mom is kind of over-protective,” I interrupted him. I couldn’t let him continue to stumble and hurt. “She’d never let me. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not allowed to date?”
I laughed. “I’m not allowed to do anything.”
He cocked his head to one side, questions in his dark eyes. I could feel my face getting warm, but now I had to explain. At least some of it.
“This is basically the only place I’m allowed to go.” I gestured around the library. “I mean, I’ve been other places, of course, but only with my mom. I don’t even go to school. I have a tutor.”
“Are you serious?” He looked away from me, running his fingers through his hair. Confusion moved across his face and turned to irritation. He let out a loud sigh. “That’s crazy.”
“She’s not crazy.”
Zander’s eyes widened. I’d said it far more sharply than I’d meant to. Guilt twisted in my stomach for hating her only seconds earlier. There was always a glint of pain in my mom’s eyes. I’d tried my whole life to ease it, but I couldn’t. The least I could do was foll
ow her rules and try not to cause her more pain, more worry.
“She’s just… she worries. That’s all.”
He nodded and let the subject drop. When he sat back down, tension flowed out of my limbs. He was staying, at least for another day.
Chapter Five
Zander
“Where have you been all day?” Mom asked when I came in. She stood in the kitchen doorway, and I could smell dinner behind her. We had a refrigerator filled with leftovers because my mom still wasn’t used to cooking for only three people now that all my siblings had moved out, but she still insisted on making a big dinner every night. “Have you been applying for jobs? Looking for apartments? Or are you just going to goof off all summer?” Her voice was teasing, but I knew there was a hint of concern there, too.
“I was at the library. But I have a couple interviews later this week.” I answered her quickly and headed straight for my room. Anya wasn’t allowed to date, and I felt like slamming doors. Part of me wondered if it was true or just an excuse, but it didn’t really matter. It was a no either way. I made it halfway up the stairs before Mom came after me.
“The library?” She stood at the bottom, looking up at me with one hand on her hip and one on the railing. “You’ve sure been spending a lot of time there lately.” She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. It was a look all her kids were well acquainted with. The you-better-tell-me-what’s-going-on-because-I’m-not-going-to-leave-you-alone-until-you-do look. I sighed and stomped back down the stairs.
“I met this girl.”
She grinned. “I thought that might have something to do with your increased devotion to the written word. So, tell me about her.”
I sat down on the bottom step, and she sat next to me. There was no point in keeping things from Mom. She was relentless. I’d learned a long time ago it was easier to just tell her what was going on before she started stalking my FB page and questioning my friends. Even though I’d never admit it to her, she usually had pretty good advice. “Her name is Anya, and I asked her out today, and she said no.”
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