by Deb Rotuno
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Title Page
A Few Tables Away
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Deb Rotuno
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RR Books
Copyright Information
A Few Tables Away, Copyright © 2019 by Deb Rotuno
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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Published by RR Books, November 2019
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Cover and Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna
Dedication
To everyone who has found their strength
in unlikely places, things, or people.
Chapter One
Evan
“THAT ASSHOLE’S TRYIN’ TO KILL US with homework,” said a male voice from behind me. “I’ll never get all this reading done.”
“Stop goin’ out every damn night,” the girl with him countered.
He cursed under his breath because she was either right or he liked her enough to shut up. I turned just enough to see it was a guy from my Lit class who spent more time on his phone than taking notes.
The dining hall was loud, filled with chatter, phones ringing, and TVs blaring in the top corners of the large space. The entire room made me sweat more than the humidity outside. Before the true panic of being surrounded by so many people I didn’t know—didn’t want to know—set in, I was called up to the counter to order my food.
Despite the blaring sun and the thick, muggy air, I made my way back outside to the tables in the shade. I could breathe better outside. Outside, there was less chance of someone talking to me. Talking led to conversation, and conversation led to someone finding out just how awkward I was. Alone was better. Alone there was less of a chance I could make a fool out of myself.
The caw of seagulls was loud, sounding like rude laughter. It surprised me just how far away from the beach they’d come to steal French fries and leftover bread crusts. Hell, they’d snatch it right out of someone’s hand if they had the opportunity.
I set my heavy backpack on the table, followed by my tray. After pulling out my journal and pen, I picked at my food. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and my whole body froze for a moment.
Please, don’t be—
But a smile curled up on my face at the sight of the name on the screen, and I couldn’t swipe it quickly enough to answer.
“Faith?”
“How’s my favorite big brother handling the Sunshine State?” she started immediately.
“You’d better not let Ty hear you say that,” I warned her with a chuckle.
“What? That it’s sunny? He knows. Oh, and he knows you’re my favorite. I tell him every opportunity I get. He said he doesn’t care, that he’d squeeze the love out of me.”
Laughing, I shook my head at my baby sister. I missed her like crazy, and I missed my big brother, Tyler, too. But I couldn’t stay. The very second I’d started applying for colleges, I’d made sure most of them were as far away from my home state of Montana as I could get. Another country would’ve been better, but the complete opposite side of the US would have to do.
“It’s okay. Hot, humid, um…beachy,” I finally answered her question, looking at my watch. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Half day. Teacher workday or some shit. Thank God! Key Lake High hasn’t changed a bit since you left.”
I snorted derisively, picking up a fry and dragging it through ketchup. “I’m sure you have it way easier than I did,” I mumbled around my food.
She sighed deeply. “Yeah, well…I don’t have time for bullshit from those idiots. I’ve got better things to do than to deal with the petty, small-town people of Key Lake.”
“No shit,” I murmured, shaking my head at how much stronger my sister was than me. She simply didn’t care what people thought—not the school kids; not the whispering, gossiping adults; and especially not our father. Though, the latter ignored her, which was better than how he dealt with Tyler and me. As a kid, I’d have killed to be ignored. “I miss you.”
“Miss you too, Evan,” she sang back. “I wanna come visit. Can I? Spring break?”
Grinning, I nodded foolishly. “Yeah, Faith, if he’ll let you. Sure.”
“What he doesn’t know…”
“You can’t do that. You’ll only make shit worse, Rylee Faith,” I scolded her, but the absolute terror of Dad setting his sights on Faith was too much to think about. “Ask him first. If he says no, then…the summer, maybe.”
“He doesn’t scare me.”
“Nothing scares you. That’s the problem.”
She laughed, and it made me smile. It made me homesick, if only for her. Despite the fact that she was younger than me, she was my best friend.
Instead of arguing, she changed subjects. “How’s Library Girl?”
Groaning, I set my elbow on the table, reaching up to adjust glasses I wasn’t wearing anymore, thanks to Faith. Contacts were fine, but my nervous tic was to adjust the glasses. Now my hand shot to my hair, raking, gripping, and essentially sending it into disarray—worse than it normally was. Thankfully it was shorter now than it used to be.
“Have you even talked to her, Evan?”
“N-N-No.”
The sinking, gut-punch anxiousness that hit me was almost debilitating.
“Hey, big brother…” Faith sighed again. “Why don’t you write her? You know that helps you.”
Nodding even though she couldn’t see me, I groaned. “I know. I just…She’s…way out of my league, Faith.”
She laughed. Hard. And at me, for some damn reason. “Oh, good Lord, Evan. You have no idea, do you? You have any fucking idea how many girls were crushing on you your senior year?”
Scowling, I stayed quiet, wondering if I should’ve kept my crush to myself, but I also knew full well that Faith could get me to confess just about anything. Prime example was this conversation—the girl in the library who I couldn’t help but stare at, wonder about, and essentially drool over. She was beautiful, with a sweet smile and stunning eyes. Never mind that she had phenomenal taste in books.
“Laura, Erin, and Mrs. Wilson said to tell you hello.”
“Mrs. Wilson? The school office lady?”
She laughed again. “Crushing hard, that old cougar. Says you have the nicest…manners.”
“Aw, stop.”
“
Evan, you’re very handsome, and you’re smart and sweet. If Library Girl can’t see that, then she’s a blind bitch and you shouldn’t even waste your time.”
“I don’t even know her name, Faith.”
“Doesn’t matter. Write it down. You’ll feel better. It’s how you work, big brother.”
“’Kay.”
“I gotta go. I’ve got a date.”
“With who?”
“Ron.”
“Rylee Faith Shaw! Seriously? He’s an asshole. His dad is an asshole. He works at—”
“He works with Dad. I’m aware, but there’s a party and I wanna go,” she stated firmly.
Shaking my head, I began packing up my things. “Well, text or call when you get home.”
“I will, I promise. Love you,” she sang before ending the call.
I huffed a humorless laugh, shouldering my backpack and tucking my phone back into my pocket. After dumping my lunch trash, I started across the campus of Edgewater College. It was a small school, private, and not as intimidating as some colleges could be—definitely not as big as UM, where Tyler was going—but I still avoided eye contact the whole way to the library. It had been a toss-up between small school and big. While large campuses would allow me to get lost in the masses, the thought of all those people made me nervous. Edgewater was only slightly bigger than my old high school—maybe twice as many students. It was the center of the small, panhandle town of Glenhaven, Florida. The distance from home had been far more important than the fact that it was near the beach when I was choosing schools.
Bishop Library, where I was headed, was on the east side of the campus, situated beneath the shade of large old oak trees. The front of the building overlooked a small lake at which I rarely looked. Bodies of water were worse than bodies of people. They made me sick, like sweaty hands, nausea, and shallow breathing.
You should really get over that water shit, son.
I shook my head at the jibe I’d heard more times than I could count. Out of sheer belligerence, I stopped on the sidewalk and faced the small lake. The brownish-green water was dotted with ducks, swans, and tall herons, not to mention tall, bright green cattails with their puffy brown tips that were breaking apart in the breeze. I glared at the water with both hatred and fear, the emotions battling for dominance.
Not that lake. Not that one, I soothed myself, only to give up when the thought of going near it crossed my mind.
The air conditioning in the library was almost frigid in comparison to the heat outside, so a shiver practically rattled my teeth when I stepped inside the one place that could ease everything. When I was in the library, nothing could hurt me. When I fell through the rabbit hole of a good story or lost myself to homework and projects, my loneliness and fears and the life I so desperately wanted to leave behind faded away like a puff of smoke, if only for a chapter or two.
My usual table wasn’t exactly empty, but at least my end was vacant. I set my stuff down, pulled out my books, and forced myself not to look, but I was a weak idiot and looked anyway.
My heart hurt at the sight of her. Library Girl—as my sister so easily named her. She was just on the other side of another table, her back to the rows of bookshelves as she faced the large open space of the study area. The library wasn’t the only place I saw her. She was in my Lit class and my Creative Writing class as well, but Faith had locked in on the fact that the library was where I had developed this stupid, useless crush on a girl whose name I didn’t even know.
I sat down in my chair, giving her another glance as I blindly pulled out my notebook and journal. As usual, she was buried in a book, fingers wrapping a lock of her light brown hair around and around, tying it in a loose knot, only to let it fall out to start all over. It was mesmerizing. She was beautiful, with long hair and deep sea-blue eyes, and her eyelashes were insane, especially against creamy skin. She never wore a lot of makeup, but she didn’t need it. She dressed casually but not like some of the girls around here and back at home. Some of them showed way too much. No, Library Girl looked like she dressed for comfort, not for show.
The first time I’d ever seen her, she’d been crying, and something about that had bothered me—almost to the point that I forgot my fear and approached her. It wasn’t until I realized the tears were caused by the book she was reading that I sat down at the same table. I waited patiently to find out what book it was, if only because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read something that moved me to the point of tears.
“Excuse me,” I heard as a shadow fell over me.
I looked up expectantly at a girl in dark glasses I knew from a few of my classes. Rachel…no, Rebecca…No, that wasn’t it, either.
“I’m Regan,” she introduced herself. “We’re in Physics together.”
Nodding stupidly, I whispered, “Evan.”
Her smile was accompanied by a blush of her cheeks. “Right, Evan. Um, I was wondering…Do you have the notes from the last class? I was out sick, and…”
My eyebrows shot up, but I nodded nervously, reaching into my backpack for my notes. I flipped to the most recent page and handed them over.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling my way and pointing to the other end of the table. “I’ll be right here. I’m just going to copy them down really quick.”
“Okay,” I whispered softly, and she stepped away to reveal Library Girl watching us. For the first time, those expressive blue eyes locked with mine, and she smiled softly, though they broke from me to the other end of the table to look Regan’s way, her brow furrowing a little.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I dropped my gaze to my journal. Maybe Faith was right; maybe I did need to write it down first. Writing always helped me to sort out my thoughts, align words together better than my mouth ever could. I could almost hear my little sister’s laugh at me, but I put pen to paper, hoping that by the time I was finished, I’d maybe have the bravery to give it to her.
As I wrote, I imagined leaving it in her book or on top of her homework. The thought of handing it to her sounded juvenile and silly, not to mention practically impossible, considering I didn’t think I’d be able to form a complete sentence around her.
While writing, I glanced up to see her attention back on her book, so I finished out the letter.
Dear Library Girl,
I call you that because I don’t even know your name, but I see you. I see you every day.
I saw you my first day on campus. Beautiful and popular, surrounded by friends some days and alone others. You seem comfortable in either state.
I saw you the day you were crying over a book. It was silent and sad, with trembling lips and the softest of sniffles, because you either didn’t want anyone to know you were crying or you didn’t want to disturb the quiet of the library. You’re here as much as I am, so I can’t decide which it is.
It took what seemed forever to catch sight of what you were reading, and when I did, I checked it out of this library. I’ll admit it was sad, but I don’t remember if I cried. I did, however, start to pay attention to what books you’re reading.
It was then that I truly started to see you. Really see you. But I wanted more. I needed to know more, but I wasn’t even sure how to sit near you, much less speak to you.
Because as much as I see you, I’m certain you don’t see me. Most people don’t, and those who do bring with them unwanted attention. I’ve spent most of my life trying to be invisible, and now it’s pure habit.
You’re too pretty, but not the kind of pretty built on makeup or expensive clothes. You’re the kind of pretty that comes from the inside. It’s made up of kind smiles for strangers, teases to friends, and the obliviousness of falling into a good book.
I guess I hope that you’ll see me one day, but I’m not holding my breath. I’d like to think I’d eventually muster up the courage to speak to you or even sit at your table instead of mine, but I don’t know about that either. You’re all things sunny here, and I’m not. I come from da
rk places, fear, and guilt. I’m not sure what you’d think of that.
I want to thank you for all the books I’ve seen you read, which I’ve checked out after you. They’ve been the best recommendations I’ve ever had.
Love, the boy in the library a few tables away
I sat back, skimming over what I’d written, and not a bit of it was untrue. When I glanced up to Library Girl’s table, she was surrounded by a few people, smiling and nodding as she packed up her stuff. One of them was a tall, somewhat good-looking guy, his body leaning toward hers, and she didn’t back away. Without a glance back, she left the study area with them.
Frowning, I reread my note before slamming the book closed. Who was I fucking kidding? She was pretty in every way. She was so pretty that she could have any guy she wanted, so why on earth would she even look my way again?
I shoved my journal in my bag and pulled my homework closer. I needed to get some of it finished before my shift at the coffee shop.
Chapter Two
Evan
“HERE YOU GO.”
Glancing up from where I was packing up my things in the library, I met Regan’s gaze, which seemed bigger behind her glasses, and for a split second my attention drifted away. I wondered if my own eyes looked like that when I had my glasses on. I’d never really thought about it.
“Thank you,” she said softly, snapping my attention out of the daze.
“Oh,” I said with a polite smile as I took the notebook from her and stuffed it into my bag. “No problem.”
“Um…listen,” she started nervously, still keeping her voice low, but she fidgeted, adjusted her glasses, and then twisted her fingers together in front of her. “I know we have that project in Physics coming up. We’re supposed to…get with a partner or group, and I was wondering…well, if you don’t have one already…though I’m sure you do, but I just thought…Forget it.”
Her ramble was familiar, and I had sympathy because in all reality, I wouldn’t even begin to know how to ask someone to be my partner.
“Yeah, no…That’s…That works,” I told her. “I’d forgotten about it, actually,” I lied. I’d really just planned to do all the work alone. I was used to it from high school.