Leah and Trent

Chapter Nine

September 13 2016 - Tuesday

~

Trent

(Song: Just One Day by BTS)

It had been twenty minutes since the final school bell rang, and I stood outside the library like a lost little falcon being lured inside. Leah was in there, after all. But the thought of her not wanting me was tearing my heart into shreds. I couldn't have her reject me again, I didn't think I could handle it.

I tried to build up courage, but I settled for a measurable amount of fear and a synthetic grit. The instant I walked through the door, the librarian waved me down.

"Come here. Come here," she said in a harsh and hushed tone. My nerves started to warn me as I walked over to the counter. The librarian looked at me with a twisted scowl on her face, like I was in trouble for something. "I know why you come in here." She paused as if I was suppose to speak, but started talking again once I opened my mouth. "You never check out a single book, and you walk in here only when Leah is here." I looked down, embarrassed, even though I had no reason to be. It didn't matter if she knew how I felt about Leah. "I don't care who you are, but if you're bothering her, then you need to leave her alone," she said with a stern glare in her eye.

"I. . .I. . ."

"You seem like a decent young man. I'm sure you understand that there is a time and a place for everything. And time. . .sometimes the time isn't set by you."

"O~kay."

"And this is a library, so like I said before, no running."

"Ye-Yeah. I remember."

"Go on, now. I've got work to do." She grabbed a book off of a pile next to her. I slowly turned away, not really sure what I was suppose to take away from what she said. But I knew that I couldn't give up on Leah.

I headed to the table, but stopped when I saw Leah standing in one of the aisles reaching up for a book on the top of a shelf. I rushed down the aisle with an opportunistic grin.

"Let me help you," I said. I stopped next to her, but she grabbed the book before I could reach for it.

"Oh, hi. . .um, Trent. Right?" My name on her lips sounded like the sweetest harmony. It was better than all the works of Beethoven and Mozart combined.

"Right," I said hearing the shakiness in my voice.

"I, uh. . .I wanted to apologize for being so rude to you before." My ears seemed to perk up. Leah stood there staring down at the book she was caressing in her hands, making it hard for me to see her face. "You seem nice, but. . .with all that's happening, and all the tension-"

"Because of where I'm from," I said making her look up at me. She shook her head slightly and looked up at me with big eyes. I wanted to tell her that she was cute, but she spoke before I could form the words in my mouth.

"I'm sorry. I was just being a jerk."

". . .Are you scared of me because I'm from the east side?"

"No, not at all."

"That's good cause I really like you, and I'd like to be able to repay you for that favor."

"Trent, I-"

"And it doesn't have to be coffee. It could be anything."

"I can't. . .I have a boyfriend."

"What?" My heart dropped into my shoes. She couldn't have said those words that were stabbing me in my ears. I thought that maybe I had misheard her. That was an easy possibility, I had terrible hearing.

"I have a boyfriend." It was like she was dancing on my heart, kicking it around like a soccer ball.

"H-How long have you. . .been dating?"

"You ask a lot of questions. . .uhm, a couple months." A couple months! The world was bent on taunting me. "You must really like the library," Leah said finally smiling at me.

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, you're here all the time."

". . .You're here a lot, too."

"Not really. Usually, I have cheer practice or-"

"You're a cheerleader?" The words rushed out in a frenzy, and she nodded her head.

"But I have some free time on Tuesdays, so I like to spend time here."

"How long have you been a cheerleader?"

"I started in seventh grade, so this is my fifth year." I tried to picture her in a cheer uniform, which wasn't all that difficult because she was already wearing a school uniform. "Oh, uhm, it was nice talking to you, but I have to go," she said looking at her watch.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I have tumbling practice." She walked pass me and I tried to quickly come up with something to say.

"Can I have your number?" She turned back around and tapped her fingers on the book in her hands.

". . .I don't know."

"I know tons of funny memes."

". . .Okay, I guess." She walked towards me rummaging through one of the pockets in her backpack. "I have a pen. Do you-"

"Here. Write it on my hand." I held out my hand nervously, and she took it graciously. The skin on her palm was so soft against the back of my hand. She stepped so close to me that I could smell her shampoo, it smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. She jotted down her number on the palm of my hand and backed away when she was finished. I analyzed the new marking on my skin and saw that her handwriting was just as beautiful as before.

"Bye," she said backing away.

"Have a nice practice." She grinned and it was so adorable it almost broke my heart. She walked off, and I had to stop myself from following behind her. I was a lost little falcon. I was her lost little falcon.

(Song: Sober by Childish Gambino)