CHAPTER SEVEN
Blair
Over three and a half years ago
He was at the library as usual. It was like his second home, and I wasn’t surprised to see him there at lunchtime, his gaze on a book in front of him.
I made my way around the tables until I found one near his—it was close enough for me to watch him without him being able to notice me.
I placed my laptop on the table although I didn’t plan to use it and opened it for pretense.
Aurora and Lana had cracked up when I told them I was going to the library, before I lied and said I was meeting a guy there.
The look of envy that had flashed over Aurora’s face at that almost made me laugh out loud now.
Zach’s eyes devoured the text in front of him, and I leaned my head against my hand, thinking how beautiful he looked engrossed like that.
Sunlight kissed his dark hair strands, turning them silver.
I imagined pushing my fingers through them, and butterflies rushed to my belly—it was the same sensation I felt when I saw him in the cafeteria for the first time over two weeks ago.
He was everything I shouldn’t want. But I couldn’t help myself.
“Oh no,” Mrs. Garcia, our librarian, exclaimed. She was at the front desk, striking the keys of her keyboard with her forefingers, a deep frown on her weathered face. “Oh dear.”
Zach raised his head, turning to look at her. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Garcia?”
Flutters filled my belly at his voice. There were a couple more students beside us here, but no one even cared to acknowledge her, let alone ask her if something was the matter.
They never did. Mrs. Garcia might as well be invisible for how little the students appreciated her, never once thanking her for helping them find resources or assisting them with anything they needed.
“The screen froze.” She pointed at the computer screen. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let me take a look at that.” He stood, and I felt a warm feeling in my chest because he cared enough to help.
I watched him walk over to her, my eyes moving down his body.
He wore a blue and white checked shirt that was a few sizes too large and washed-out jeans, his shoes showing signs of overuse.
But I couldn’t care less, curious to see what was underneath.
What followed were several minutes of him dealing with whatever issue Mrs. Garcia had and me staring at him, studying his every move. The glint in his brown eyes. The line of intense concentration between his brows. His tongue each time it darted out to wet his lips.
I wanted to capture that tongue with mine and memorize his taste forever.
We came from different worlds. But I wanted to pretend we didn’t for a little while, if only to satisfy this strong urge growing inside me.
I turned on my laptop, coming up with an idea.
Fixing Mrs. Garcia’s problem, Zach moved to return to his table, and I asked, “Can you also help me?”
He stopped, his eyes widening at me. An intense blush spread across his cheeks, and I almost purred with satisfaction, a small smile unfurling across my lips despite myself.
I pointed at my laptop, wrinkling my brow. “My keyboard’s not working.”
The way his face changed expressions was an art in itself—from shyness and indecision to eagerness. “S-Sure.”
My heart missed a beat as he sat down next to me and stared at my face for a long moment and then, as though he’d caught himself, lowered his gaze quickly. His scent engulfed me, a mix of body wash and him, and it was hard not to lean closer to him to inhale more of it.
He drew my laptop over to him, and I pretended I didn’t see his hands were shaking. I didn’t take my eyes off him as tapped on the touchpad, the expression of sheer focus back on his face. I felt like kissing that expression away until there was only need there.
I motioned with my hand at Mrs. Garcia. “What you did for her was so nice. Not many people would bother to help her.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“I think it is.” I motioned around us. “No one paid any attention to her. It’s like she doesn’t matter.”
He glanced at her, a small frown forming over his eyes. “People don’t take her seriously because she’s old and can be cranky, but she doesn’t deserve to be disrespected or ignored. She matters. Besides, you help when someone needs help. It’s as simple as that.”
My chest throbbed, and I felt like he’d just kicked all the air out of me. “That sounds very noble.”
He shrugged. “As I said, it’s not a big deal.”
“But it is. If only more people thought like you, the world would be a much better place. It feels like we’re all too preoccupied with ourselves, too selfish and greedy.”
He gave me a long gaze filled with wonder and surprise, and something wavered inside me, making me feel like I was fully exposed to him.
“We are.” We locked eyes, and I could barely breathe, something powerful passing between us.
It was a zap of connection, a sense of deep understanding.
I’d never experienced something like this with anyone before, and I wanted to prolong this moment, make it happen again.
He tore his gaze off me, his breath coming out in a shuddering exhale.
“H-Here. It’s done.” He tapped something on the keyboard, then motioned at the Device Manager window displayed on the screen. “Your keyboard was disabled.”
I put on a confused expression. “Oh wow. How did that happen?” I shook my head. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”
He shrugged again, looking down. “It’s nothing a few clicks can’t fix.”
I titled my head, smiling. “You’re really good with computers, huh?”
“Y-Yes.” He blushed.
Damn. He was so cute.
“I was never interested in anything computer-related. I just don’t see the appeal.”
“Computers can be pretty fun when you’re someone like me.” He kept his gaze down.
“Someone like you?”
“It’s embarrassing, really.”
“No, tell me.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “They help me escape reality,” he mumbled.
My heart throbbed. “Wow. That’s deep actually.”
He blushed harder. “Forget I said anything.”
I chuckled. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I’m just teasing you. It’s actually cool. It’s way better than—”
He snapped his gaze up at me, observing me like he needed to hear what I had to say more than his next breath. “Way better than . . .?”
“Way better than having no passion at all, I guess.” I shrugged.
“Does that mean you have no passion?”
How did he guess?
I threw on a smile. “I was just figuratively speaking. I have more than enough interests. My parents made sure of that.” My smile almost slipped.
“If you ever want to pick up a new interest, you can give programming a shot. I love programming languages. You can create any software you want if you know them.”
I chuckled. He was such a nerd, and it was so sweet. “Maybe you can teach them to me someday.”
He blushed again, all the way to his hairline, and I almost reached out and brushed my fingers across his cheek. I flexed my hand.
His lips curved into a shy smile. “Y-Yeah. I can do that.”
The bell rang, announcing the end of the lunch period.
Disappointment filled me, and I realized I didn’t want to stop talking to him. I needed to hear more about him. Know more.
The chair squeaked across the floor as he stood. “I have to go.”
“Sure. Thanks again.” I pointed at my laptop.
He cast me a smile I felt everywhere in me. “If you need anything else, I’ll be glad to help.” He stopped as he seemed to consider something, but then he shook his head to himself and rushed over to his table to grab his textbook.
I watched him head outside and wave at Mrs. Garcia. He threw one last look at me over his shoulder before he stepped out of the library, and my chest throbbed so hard I felt it in my throat.
I smiled, feeling like dancing, and shouting, and announcing to the whole world how amazing Zach Curtis was.
And amazing didn’t quite cut it. He was so sweet, so different from the people in my social circle, and I couldn’t stop going over our interaction over and over.
It was like a breath of fresh air in the staleness that was my life, a ray of sunshine at the end of a long, dark tunnel, and I wanted to bottle this memory up and keep it forever with me like a precious souvenir.
Because it was precious. And I hoped I could keep soaking in his warmth, in his beautiful smile. I hoped this world would never change him, never dim his light.
And I hoped he’d always stay innocent. Because the world needed him to keep shining his light, to keep purging away our darkness . . . before it was too late, and it swallowed us all whole.