Charlotte
“Welcome to the second meeting of the Save The Summerville Library Committee,” I remark to the committee the next day, my voice echoing off the walls of the room.
“It’s nice to see a few new faces here this evening.
Welcome!” I take a sip of the London Fog that Aidan handed to me just before the meeting started, relishing the vanilla and Earl Grey flavors. And him.
We’ve added three more people to the group. Mr. Kaito Qiang of the Summerville Historical Society, Karen from Book Club, and Liam, Nicole’s coworker from Triple C.
“When can we protest?” Johnny asks from across the table. We decided to go with a long table that was already set up, instead of moving everything to the circle like last week.
Aidan is sitting next to me, scribbling on his notepad.
A well-worn copy of Beloved by Toni Morrison sits by his elbow.
His knee is very close to touching mine, and I’m giddy with the smell of coffee and cinnamon that’s emanating from either him or the latte sitting in front of him.
It also doesn’t hurt that he’s wearing shorts, when his knee brushes against my thigh, it’s his skin I’m touching, not just fabric.
Xander is sitting on the other side of Aidan, and Nicole is next to me.
A plate of chocolate croissants from Triple C sits in the middle of the table.
Liam is sitting on the other side of her, scrolling through his phone, a bored expression on his face.
I get the feeling that he’s here because of Nicole.
“I want to protest!” Karen cries, banging her fist on the table, rattling it. I scramble to grip my London Fog, so I don’t lose any of the liquid goodness. “That’ll get the attention of the council.”
“I’ll bring the pizzas,” Johnny offers, lifting one shoulder. “Georgie will supply the beer.”
I press my lips together. “Alright, let’s focus on a protest for today’s meeting. We’ve got a lot of traction with the flyers and our petition. All good things. But we’ve got to do this right. No one is getting arrested.” I jab a finger at Johnny. “No beer and pizza. We don’t have the permits.”
Karen snorts. “But Jane Fonda looks so good getting arrested.”
“She has a team of well-paid lawyers to get her out of jail.” I lift my eyebrows, and my eyes wander over to Aidan.
A dimple in his cheek pops as the corner of his mouth lifts.
“We need to do this right. Has anyone here actually organized a protest?” Silence descends over the room. “I’ll take that as a no—”
“I have,” Aidan’s voice breaks through.
I tilt my head to the side. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
He nods. “My father was a member of the Howard County Council, and my mother is a mayor in Delaware.”
My eyebrow raises and my mouth parts.
He continues in a confident voice. Is he getting comfortable with us?
“We need to secure a date and a suitable location.” He swallows.
“We’ll need enough time to let people know so they can attend and we need to obtain permits.
Some have to be filed and approved by the county a certain amount of time before the day of. ”
“Wonderful. Can you look into that and see when we need to file those?” I ask, writing down a line about permits in my notebook.
“I already did. We’ll need two weeks minimum,” he says.
“Oh, I see,” I reply, frowning. “In that case, we ought to come up with a date tonight if we’re going to file those requests.”
“How about the Saturday before the Open Comment meeting,” Johnny suggests, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “It’ll put some pressure on the County Council and maybe get people excited.”
Lisa W. leans over the table. “We can’t do that.” She rests a hand on Lisa G.’s shoulder. “It’s Summerfest, and we’re committed to volunteering all day.”
Johnny slaps his knee. “That’s right. I’m running the pizza tent then.” He snaps his fingers. “What about this weekend? It’s Memorial Day Weekend. People can go to the protest and then to their barbecues. Or we can have a barbecue at the protest.”
Aidan shakes his head. “We need two weeks to get the permit. Douglass County also prohibits the use of grills of any kind on their property.”
Xander leans over the table. “What about Saturday, June 14? No town events then and no holidays.”
Aidan shifts in his seat. “That might work.”
I smile, warmth spreading through my limbs. “We’ll protest on Saturday, June 14. Any objections?” I’m met with a chorus of nods and a “Hell yeah” from Johnny. I make a note in my notebook. “Excellent. We’ll protest peacefully, right? No punching police horses.”
“Douglass County doesn’t have police horses, do they?
” Johnny grabs a croissant from the platter and rips off a piece, stuffing it in his mouth.
He nods to Nicole. “Damn this is good.” He takes a few chews before adding, “Eagles’ fans do that.
We’re Ravens fans. We flock together.” He lets out a huff. “Punching police horses, hah!”
Nicole chuckles. “Did you know that a group of ravens isn’t called a flock?” She grins. “It’s actually called a conspiracy. It’s bullshit marketing.”
“If the Ravens start using that terminology, I will actually become a fan,” Xander quips. “That sounds so much cooler.”
Johnny lets out a low groan. “Save yourself a heartache and wait until they don’t fumble in the playoffs.” He shakes his head.
Liam giggles. “He made a football joke.” He yelps when Nicole kicks him under the table.
“Alright kittens,” I interject, rolling my eyes and hoping someone got my herding cats joke. I glance over at Aidan; a soft smile has crept up his face and those dimples flash. “Let’s focus. We’ve got a protest to plan.”
Johnny tilts his head, swallowing a bite of his croissant and tearing off another piece. “Wait, where are we having this protest?”
Karen smirks. “The County Executive’s house?”
“Absolutely not,” I exclaim. “We cannot protest on private property.”
“Why not?”
“We’d be charged with trespassing,” Aidan offers up.
Karen’s eyes light up with fire and she grins. “So, I could get—”
“No one is getting arrested,” I repeat with a firmer tone. Aidan opens his mouth and holds up a hand. “Yes?”
“We should have a contingency plan in case someone does get arrested,” he says, his voice remaining confident. The tone convinces me that he knows what he’s talking about. “Identify the people who could be arrested with only having minimal consequences.”
My jaw goes slack. Not because of what he said. It makes sense. But instead of how much of a difference there is between last week and this week. Last week, he was quiet, barely saying a single word, but now, Aidan is anything but.
I dip my head, trying to hide my smile. I like this Aidan. I like how he’s slowly coming out of his shell, and not just when it’s only me. Maybe I have something to do with that. Maybe I don’t. It doesn’t matter either way. But I like this. I like him.
Things have been somewhat awkward since last night. I thought that Aidan wanted to kiss me, but he ran away shortly after the debacle. He said he was ok afterward, but I still feel like we’re in a gray area.
If this keeps up, I’m going to have to resort to picking petals.
He likes me.
He likes me not.
Heat builds in my belly, and my mind starts to wander.
It doesn’t help that his hair is a bit mussed and his chin is peppered with stubble, accentuated by his messy mustache.
I wonder what his jaw will feel like under my fingers, what his lips will feel like against mine, what his arms will feel like around my body. Does he taste like coffee and cinnamon?
“I don’t mind getting arrested,” Karen offers, breaking my daydream about making out with Aidan.
“Please have someone on hand to bail you out, Jane Fonda,” I remark with a smirk.
Nicole sniffs. “Who’s Jane Fonda?”
“An actress who has been arrested multiple times at various protests,” I explain.
“While looking absolutely fabulous,” Karen adds.
“Right,” I continue, “so, we’ve got our list of people open to being arrested. Now back to where we’re going to have this protest?”
“What about here?” Johnny asks, tossing his hands to gesture to the library. “It’s relevant to our cause. Also, we’re up on the hill, people can see us.”
“We might not get enough traffic here,” Aidan quips.
“The traffic that we do get will be the people who already support the library.” He leans back in his chair, tapping his pen on this notepad.
“Main Street could be good, but I don’t know the permit process.
What about the County Council office? There’s a designated spot for protests. ”
I nod. “Good idea.” I turn to him. “How do you know about all this stuff?”
A small smile reaches his face and a dimple flashes, but it’s Xander who leans over the table and declares, “He may or may not have researched this earlier today.” He claps his hand to Aidan’s back.
Flashing a broad smile, Aidan replies, “You mentioned it as an agenda item last week. I wanted to be prepared.” My core melts at both dimples on display.
The grin reminds me of something my dad would do when he surprised me with something. Whether that was bringing home an Advanced Reader Copy from a favorite author, or a box of pastries from Triple C.
I also thought a lot about my dad last night after Aidan left. Hearing him talk about his father brought me back to the events of six years before.
Constantly checking my phone, waiting for a call from the nurse, the doctor, or my mom. Sleepless nights, where I couldn’t even see him. That last Zoom call.
Shaking my grief away, I give Aidan a thumbs up. “You are now my favorite person.” I lift the London Fog and flash a wink. “This helped too.”
“Hey!” Nicole cries, looking wounded. “I made you croissants!”
I swivel toward her. “Co-favorite person?”
She crosses her arms and emits a low, “Fine.” Her smirk betrays her true feelings.
I glance down at my hastily written notes. “To recap, we’re protesting on June 14 at the county offices, spread the word.” My gaze travels to the others before resting on Aidan.
Our conversation shifts to the rest of our committee’s progress.
We talk about how many people have signed the petition.
Johnny reads the first sentence of his speech, which really consists of a Rage Against the Machine quote.
We workshop that sentence to see if we can find something a little more appropriate.
Lisa G. and Lisa W. reveal a T-shirt design they’re working on.
Aidan volunteers to help set up lawn signs with me.
When my London Fog is empty, and the croissants are nothing but flaky crumbs, we plan to meet here again in a week and end the meeting.
As Aidan is packing up his notebook, I grip his elbow and get up on my tiptoes. “Walk me home?” I whisper in his ear.
He rests a hand on mine. His skin is soft and warm against my cold and dry hand. “I was just about to ask,” he murmurs, and we walk out into the damp night.
Does he like me?