Across the Bridge

Across the Bridge - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When I was young, reading books about people with fabulous lives or heroic tales made me feel good, like I could pretend I was there, in the book, for awhile. Even as a kid, I read adult fiction, a lot of which I didn't understand - but it was all I had access too. My mom had a pretty large book collection that she kept on a shelf in her bedroom. I had never seen her read though. It must have been something she did before she had kids.

  It made sense for me to get a job at a library, and this one happened to have a HELP WANTED sign up at the desk one June afternoon, when I was returning a book.

  It was the last week of school, and they interviewed me on the spot, after I told them I was interested in applying for the job.

  "When can you start?" Mrs. Walsh, the assistant manager asked me, at the end of the interview.

  "Uh, really?" I was shocked, to be honest.

  "Yes, it'll be nice to have a young woman around here. When is school out?" she asked, smiling with her lips closed.

  "Thursday is the last day," I answered, still surprised this was real.

  "And you can be here by 9 A.M. on weekdays?"

  "Yes, of course. I take the train," I replied.

  "Okay, great. Let's have you start Monday."

  It was a small library, but it was much nicer than the one I grew up going to in Brooklyn. I loved being there. My Mom was never home and Asa was gone - the library in the East Village became my refuge. And it didn't hurt that I was making money.

  With my first pay cheque, I bought some real groceries for the house, and some new clothes. I got dress pants and some nice tops, for work. It was odd, being able to buy myself things. I felt like a grown up, yet I knew I'd basically missed out on my childhood. I'd been acting like a grown up for a long time already.

  I was just doing customer service at the library; I worked mostly at the desk and checked in and out books. But I gained a lot of knowledge over the short period of time. I learned all of the genres of books and where they were in the library. I enjoyed the interaction with the people who came in. I took the job seriously, and Mrs. Walsh appreciated that. By July, they had upped my hours to four days a week.

  Outside of working at the library, I only hung out with Alex. He would be there at the end of my shift, often, and we would walk around for hours, laughing, talking. We really got to know each other that summer. He noticed I was different, now, too. I might have felt happy, even, for the first time in a long time.

  "You're so amazing, Pen," Lex whispered to me one mid-July evening.

  We were sitting in the park, people watching. It was one of our favourite things to do.

  "Why?" I asked him, shaking my head.

  "You're just... independent. You take care of you, you know?" he answered.

  To him, I was exotic. Different from other girls he knew. Most of the kids we went to school with - himself included - didn't need, or want, to work. They spent their parents' money on things they didn't need. They had parties and drank beer and acted like normal teenagers.

  "I have to, Lex," I told him, looking down at my feet.

  "I know."

  "You're pretty great, too," I added, then laughed.

  "My Mom tells me that, too," he grinned.

  I loved how Lex made me feel, how he'd always made me feel. He knew I was different, but to him, that wasn't a bad thing. I felt like myself when I was with him, when I was just putting on an act for the rest of the world.