Between the Stacks

Chapter 1

The problem started when Wesley opened his mouth, and my attraction died a quick, painful death.

That was days ago, and I still hadn't recovered from what he said to me.

"Are we going to read, now?" Sarah Lynn asked.

I realized I'd fallen into a spiral of Wesley-related thoughts, which wasn't a good sign. "Of course!" I said to Sarah Lynn. To the group at large I added, "Are we ready to read, friends?" Everyone cheered, and I felt like a rock star for these mini humans.

The feeling lasted for about ten seconds. Jacob wanted to use the washroom before storytime, and Bao discovered the tub of craft supplies hidden in the back of the room. I could see her eying the glitter glue, which would be a category 10 disaster if I didn't intervene. My plans for a perfect storytime were quickly fading.

Every time I solved one small crisis, another would pop up. I wanted to scream.

My friend Melissa always laughed at my discomfort with children, considering that my tastes tended to be fairly juvenile. I preferred chicken fingers over any other food; my notebooks were covered in stickers of cartoon dogs and cats. And yet, I couldn't manage to get twelve children and their parents all seated at once.

Two siblings started to pinch each other; one of the parents wanted to talk to me about the novel they'd written; Jessica was sobbing for no apparent reason. I related to her a bit too much.

Wesley clapped his hands loudly twice. "Is everyone ready? We're getting started now."

The children stared at him, wide-eyed, and went into their seats.

I wasn't sure if I should glare at him or thank him; I settled on ignoring his presence and sitting on the official Storytime Chair, which was designed to look like a throne.

I still hadn't figured out Wesley's deal. He'd admitted only a few minutes ago that he had purposely not included the details about wacky hair day in the invitation, and he was most definitely behind the other snafus earlier and the week. And yet, he'd wrangled the children together just now.

Something was up, and I was going to get to the bottom of it.

Before then, though, I had to survive storytime.

As I read through the first of the books, I could feel him watching me. Wesley. The weight of his eyes followed my every movement, as I turned each page, as I acted out movements. I felt uncomfortable, but I figured it was the fumes from my hair gel. The room was stuffy with so many people.

I tried to send Death Vibes his way, but it was quite difficult to do that when wearing a sparkly tutu.

I continued to read, and as the children smiled and laughed in all the right places, I wondered why I had been so worried about taking over for Lakshimi. Most days at least three librarians were on the schedule, but both Melissa and Matteo had today booked off. Wesley was technically my support staff today, even if I doubted the quality of his work. Our library page, ironically named Paige, was staffing the circulation desk.

It wasn't so hard after all, being the supervising librarian. Besides, the children's parents were here, so nothing would get out of control. Even though I was twenty-four, I didn't feel like a real adult. I still cried when I did my taxes, and not once in my life had I ever made risotto. The presence of those parents, the actual adults, guaranteed that everything would be fine-

A piercing shriek cut through the air.

The children screamed. "It's just the fire alarm!" I said, standing up. "Please leave in an orderly fashion-"

Parents hauled their children up and started to bolt towards the door. It was utter chaos. The kids were still yelling, the parents were fighting their way through the crowd, and the alarm was blaring. Wesley had bolted out of the room.

I figured it was a false alarm, like every other time. Only when I went into the main space of the library and smelled smoke did I truly understand.

"Get out of here!" I yelled unnecessarily, as the true terror set in.

I had never been trained for this situation. In past alarms I had proceeded outside with the other staff and patrons, but something didn't feel right about that. A captain goes down with her ship. Not that I had any plans to become a crispy version of myself - I just realized that I needed to make sure the library was completely evacuated.

Or, I could put out the fire.

I'm not sure where the thought came from, but I yanked the fire extinguisher off the wall and sprinted towards the source of the smoke: the men's bathroom.

In the back of my mind I knew this was a bad idea. I had a sudden flash of memory - the thick library fire safety manual. Sitting on my desk, unread. It was currently propping up the stuffed Kermit that lived at my workstation. I'd had so many things to do in the first months on the job that I had completely forgotten to read it. There was probably a whole chapter on how to avoid this situation in the first place.

When I opened the door to the washroom, I was struck by the burning at the back of my throat, of the smoke that plumed out from the garbage can. I realized then that I was a complete idiot, and that I had no idea what I was doing. I knew what to do if I caught on fire - stop, drop, and roll - but I had no idea how to actually work a fire extinguisher.

I ran back into the clearer air outside of the bathroom and frantically read the instructions on the extinguisher. Pull the ring, aim towards the base of the fire, squeeze the handle, and sweep the canister.

I took a deep breath and plunged back into the smoky bathroom.

Somehow the instructions got jumbled in my head - sweep? squeeze? aim? - but eventually I managed to pull the pin and squeeze. I yelped as a blast of chemicals erupted from the nozzle. An indeterminate amount of time later, the fire had been buried under a blanket of the chemical residue.

I stumbled out of the bathroom, my arms quaking so much that I dropped the extinguisher. I managed to make it outside just as the first fire truck pulled up.

"Are you okay?" Wesley was suddenly beside me. It was completely unfair that he looked so well put-together, with his dumb button-down Oxford and his too-clean shoes.

But that wasn't completely accurate. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he was actually upset. I didn't know that he was capable of human emotions.

It made me feel a little better about my own situation; I looked like a trainwreck unicorn. My horn had fallen to one side, and I could feel my glittery eyeshadow stuck to my cheeks. I smelled like burnt BBQ.

I could finally feel the tears start to come. I don't know why I was so mad - perhaps it was the genuine concern in his voice, or the fact that I'd messed up my first time being the supervising librarian - but I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away. "I need to be alone," I said, marching off to the park across the street.

He let me go. As I sat on a bench, in a strange moment of weakness, a bizarre part of me wished he had followed.

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Hi, I'm EJ! This story is meant to be a love letter to libraries and books. Let me know what your favorite book is, and I'll do my best to drop a reference somewhere in the story :)

Updated every Sunday!