Olan Rogers Imagines

Library Meetings

This book is so dry, I think to myself. A distraction would be great right about now.

Amidst the boredom, I peek over the top of my book just to see what I can see. And I catch a glance at the most majestic man in a library I've ever seen.

He looks to be invested in a heavy math book, like advanced math, we're talking Algebra 1. The book is held slightly away from him, square tortoiseshell glasses perched on his nose, and I start to notice the temperature starting to rise.

His quiffed hair looks black in the glow of the amber lighting, lips pursed ever so slightly as he reads. I think his eyes dart up for a quick second, but I tell myself it must just be a trick of the lights. But, after a few moments, he sets the book down on the table in front of him and stares at me.

Oh no. I think. He saw me glancing. What do I do with my hands? Don't look at him. Keep your eyes averted and mouth...normal. When did my mouth get so weird?

I suddenly stare down at The Great Gatsby in my hands and try to focus on that more than anything else. I think that as long as I don't look at him again, it'll be okay. I'll sit here, pretend for a few more minutes, and then leave. Simple as that—

"Hey." A deep voice startles me and I jump. I force myself to look up and it's him, standing casually in front of me.

"Oh. Hi," I'm barely able to get out. I close my book but keep my thumb in the page, despite the fact I wasn't reading or even planning to.

He cocks his head and smiles a small, goofy smile. "I'm Olan. I saw you checking me out over there, and, um..." He trails off.

My eyebrows raise as I try to think of something to say. "You like math?" Not the strongest of openers. I may not be an expert on flirting, but I wouldn't think any variation on a line from the Bee Movie can be good.

His easy smile turns into a smirk. "Huh. Yeah, about that, I actually was just doing some light reading. Kind of bored, you know."

"Who are you, Hermione Granger?" It comes out more mean than I intend, and I wince, but he laughs.

"Hopefully not." His expression quickly changes, "Not that she's a bad character or anything, it's just, I, as you know, an adult man, wouldn't like to be compared--I've really dug myself into a hole here, haven't I?" Olan looks at the ground, smiling, embarrassed.

I smile, standing from my chair. We're only about two feet from each other, and I feel incredibly awkward. "Well, that's fine." I say, fumbling for words. "But um...I never told you my name." My heart picks up and I can feel heat in my cheeks. "Do you think we could talk it over with some coffee?"

Olan looks back up at me and takes off his glasses, tucking them into his jeans pocket. "I'm more of a hot cocoa guy myself," and somehow he looks completely different without the glasses, still as attractive though, if not more. "With lots of marshmallows. But, coffee. Soda. Cocoa. Whatever works." He says with a wink.

I smile and glance down at my book, glad I don't have to worry about it for a few more hours.