Jovie & Bash

Two || Jovial

I decided to mock him a little.

“It truly was mesmeric,” I told him past a light chuckle. “In fact, I found the storyline to be quite prodigious.”

His eyes slowly appeared over the top of the book in his hands. “You liked it?” The stutter seemed to disappear and light inquisition returned to his voice. My lips pursed at the shift in confidence.  He had a funny way of carrying himself.

“I guess.”

He lowered the book completely and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. I decided I didn’t much care for his shoulder length locks. The longer I looked at him, the more alien-like he appeared.

Suddenly, he knelt down beside the cart and ran an index finger over the spines of the books stashed there.

I glanced down the aisle, unsure of what to do. I decided to scan the book I picked out, but realized shortly that I didn’t want it and put it back on the shelf. All the while the strange librarian hummed to himself, searching for who-knows-what. I questioned whether or not to walk away.

“Drat,” he muttered after what felt like forever. “It’s not here. Figures. If you thought The Lost City was enthralling, you’d love Meryl Island.”

I grimaced. “A story about an island? Those are always creepy.”

“It’s completely disturbing. You have to read it.”

There was an excited gleam in his eye and I felt my insides warm. The interest he seemed to take in me came out of nowhere, and it made me nervous because I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t make friends easily. Besides, I wasn’t one to take suggestions from people—he got lucky the first time.

I began to shake my head, but he nodded in response. “I have incredible taste in literature.”

He had fierce light blue eyes that dared me to take him up on his offer and prove him wrong.

I looked over at the bookshelf beside us, thinking about the kind of adventure I really came searching for, and when my eyes met his again, I knew I was going to give in.

With a sigh, I answered, “Okay.”

The corners of his lips turned up and then he turned the cart around.  I took a step toward him and his hand shot out. “I’m Bash, by the way.”

Cautiously, I put my hand in his and he gave it a firm squeeze.

“Bash?” I questioned.

“Sebastian Daley the Third, actually,” he quipped. “Just imagine Christmas at my parent’s humble abode. Three Sebastians’.” He shook his head at the sheer ridiculousness. “So, I started calling myself Bash. Things got far less confusing after that.”

He lead me across the library in silence for a few strides before talking, again. “Jovie, then?”

I nodded.

“A form of jovial. It means happy, cheerful, jubilant.” His elbow nudged my arm lightly. “Your parents must have been excited to have you.”

I snorted, lips contorting into goofy excuse for a frown, mostly because I just wanted to laugh. “My mom is the mayor,” I said.

Nearly everyone in town knew about the relationship between my mother and her secretary. It was the closest thing Ashwood Creek ever got to a scandal.  Sure, Mayor Sinclair seemed practically perfect in every way, but could anyone ever let her live down her one mistake? Guess again.

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. I’m not from here,” Bash told me.

I lifted my eyebrows and clasped my hands together. “Oh,” I said. “Well, it’s just a little ironic.”