New but maybe not so New

Chapter 3 |✔

After two group interviews I did with some of the patients, I went to the library to grab the book my sister wanted, another book for Diana and some others for myself.

I've always loved reading, no matter which genre. A romantic sitcom, an adventure or just some literature, I'd read it within some hours.

My mom always used to call me her little genius, even when I practically wasn't one. Sure, I had a high IQ and a really good memory but nothing extraordinary.

    It was just really really easy for me to remember the things I've heard.
That was one reason why I loved to listen to Diana when she would read something to me.
When she was younger, she had been a professor for 15th century literature, which is why she knew a lot about it.

I just got into the a section of the library, searching for nothing in particular, when my eyes found a really interesting looking book on the 5th shelf.
I couldn't make out the title because I wasn't exactly the tallest, but the way it was designed, fascinated me from the start.

I got on my toes, trying to get a hold of it, but I couldn't reach it.
I looked around and was about to search a chair or something like that to stand on, when I've heard someone clearing their throat behind me.

I swirled around and got face to face to a tall young man, who held the book in his hands.
"Hey, ehm. I saw you ehm st-struggling and ehm I thought I could-could help you out." He gave me a small, shy smile.

I noticed that he was tense and nervous, but I couldn't quite make out why.
"Oh well that's really nice of you. Thank you very much."

He handed me the book and I looked at its title: 'The Narrative of John Smith'.
"It's a-a great b-book."

I looked up to find the attractive man still in front of me, which is why I stopped for a moment and examined him carefully.

He was skinny and really tall, his feet were covered in old converse, his trousers were beige, and he wore the violet tie not inside but out of his pullover.
It was cute and funny at the same time.

His brown bag hung sloppy around his shoulders and he played with some strings of the leather that distanced themselves from the rest of the leather.
He was visibly nervous.

"I haven't read it yet but if you would recommend it...?"

He looked like he was confused by what I said, before he eventually nodded and smiled.
"Yeah, I recommend it. Did you know that each chapter represents each day of John Smith's life with his diagnosis of rheumatic gout?
     It was actually the first novel Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote, way before he started with Sherlock Holmes. Doyle sets down his thoughts and opinions on a range of subjects, including literature, science, religion, war and education, while his writing is full of bravado, with no detectable insecurity or diffidence, which was really rare for that century."

I blinked a few times as I tried to follow his narration and to say I was impressed wasn't quite right.
I was beyond that.
"Wow..." were the only words that came out of my mouth.

He looked at me and his eyebrows furrowed.
"I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to ramble, I was just-."

"No, no don't be sorry. That was really impressive. I bet if I'd google it, I would find the same text not even as detailed as you just told me."

I started laughing and happily he joined me.
"So, I have to ask it."

He shrugged and nodded. "Go ahead."

"What's the deal with you?"

Again, his eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed confused.
"Sorry, what do you mean?"

"I mean, that was really detailed and ehm I am pretty sure that there aren't a lot of people who can do that."

"Oh, you mean that." He chuckled before adjusting his bag.
"Yeah well a lot of people tell me I'm a genius, but I think that the intelligence can't be accurately quantified."

I nodded and brushed some pieces of my hair behind my ear.
"Intelligence can only be quantified in one domain at a time, and then only relative to others testing in the same domain.
       But for normal human beings, next time just say you're a genius."

We both chuckled and his eyebrows furrowed again.
What was up with them?
"Wait, aren't you-?"

Before he could finish his question, his phone began to ring. He held up a finger, signalling me to wait as he answered the call.
"Yeah? Oh yeah, I'm on my way. Sure, will do. Bye."

He hung up, shoving his phone back into his jeans pocket, before turning to me with an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, I have to go. It was really nice meeting you, ehm..."

I smiled and held my hand in front of me. "Genna."

His eyes switched from my hand to my eyes and his mouth opens and closes again. "Genna, I have kind of a ehm a Germ thing." He pronounced it like it was a question and I smiled again, putting my hand in jeans pocket.

"Oh no, I understand. Well, ehm have a great day."

"Spencer."

"Bye, Spencer."

"Goodbye Genna."
He rushed out if the building and I couldn't help but think of Diana.

She never told me her son's name, but from what I knew, he was really close to her narrations.

I just shrugged it off, buying the books I had selected, before getting into my car and driving home to my piano, my cat and my dog, happy to play some classic songs and cuddle and watch a movie with my pets.

~●~

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