5 Library
I REALLY NEEDED TO FOCUS on the program in London.
I separated my notebook into sections, one for each subject, as I made my way through a reading list the course website said could be helpful. It was hard not to get distracted by all my dreams. First London, then the whole world.
And the more I read, the more I saw Oak Falls in another light.
Like, I still could see how cute it was, how quaint and Insta-perfect, but I was suddenly more aware of what it was missing.
Where were our museums and art galleries, our film festivals and art-house cinemas?
Where were our street-food markets and clashing cultures?
Where was the anonymity? Harvest Festivals and high school productions were all well and good.
But what if Theo, in all his disdain for this place, had a point?
One morning, before school and after my run, I took my thinking to the next level. I’d always worn the same clothes, really. Jeans, sweatpants, flannels. But did I need a new vibe for the person I was becoming? A vibe like Theo’s. That was what I was after.
I’d promised myself I wouldn’t think about him this week, but I couldn’t help it. And right now was different because I was thinking about clothes—even if his comment about the “plaid epidemic” was giving me extra motivation.
I pulled everything out of my wardrobe to find the black shift dress I’d worn to Aunt Lisa’s funeral, the black turtleneck I’d worn underneath. Well, that was appropriate.
I tried it on, pulling on some black tights and chunky boots to complete the outfit.
I imagined myself walking around London in these clothes, looking just as European as Theo did now.
I shook his face from my mind and walked closer to the mirror, staring at my skin.
Freckles. Not too much I could do about them without some serious foundation. But my lips? My lips I could work with.
I usually didn’t wear much makeup, just some mascara and lip gloss. But now I found the red lipstick that I’d bought for the Halloween I’d dressed up as Harley Quinn. I put it on carefully and stepped back, checking out the finished look.
Sophisticated. I loved it! I even stopped off at the Little Acorn on the way to school to order a plain espresso, just like they do in Europe. I scrunched up my face at the taste before adding three sugars.
When I got to school, Lennie, Krista, and Avery were waiting for me outside.
“Willa? Is that you?” Avery’s mouth was wide open in shock.
A thrill ran through me. They’d noticed. I wasn’t Oak Falls Willa in her jeans and plaid. I was cosmopolitan.
But I played it cool. “Yeah, of course, what do you mean?” I said.
“What do I mean?” Avery looked at everyone in turn. “Guys, tell me you see a completely different person here and it’s not just me.” Avery waited for Krista and Lennie to confirm.
“I mean, yeah, I guess? I like it, though, you look amazing, Willa.” Lennie smiled supportively, and I gave her a red-lipped smile in return, trying not to worry that I’d overdone it.
“What’s the deal, Willa? Are you hot for someone?” Krista nudged me with her hip.
“What? No. Just trying something new …”
And then it all came out. “Okay, here’s the deal.
My aunt kind of left me some money and I’m going to apply to do this travel journalism course in London.
The exam is in six weeks and I dunno … I looked at myself this morning and realized I looked like I’d never left home.
How am I supposed to fit in over there if I don’t look the part? ”
I tried to make it all sound breezy, like I wasn’t inwardly freaking out about every detail. If I said it out loud, it would be real, and I’d have to go through with it. Because this was what I wanted. It was.
I thought they’d laugh along with me, or just agree, but they all just kind of went quiet.
“What do you mean, look the part?” Lennie asked carefully.
“I mean that library guy, Theo, he said Oak Falls had a plaid epidemic. And you know, he’s kind of right. I looked at my wardrobe and it’s all small-town-America flannel and jeans and—”
Krista, in her own plaid shirt, cut me off. “Wait, so you’re saying we look … basic?”
“What’s wrong with small-town America?” Avery sounded genuinely hurt.
“Nothing. I just don’t think it’s right for me anymore. Right, Lennie?” I looked at her desperately. She was planning for college in huge cities, halfway across the country.
“Yeah, sure. You look great and all, but I liked how you looked before too …”
To fill the silence that followed, I gave my friends a rundown of the best places to visit in London that weren’t total tourist traps. I knew they’d get excited too, if they just knew what I had waiting for me.
“I think Sara’s been to London …” Lennie added, just before the bell rang to start the day.
“Oh yeah? I’ll have to ask her if she saw the view from Primrose Hill.” I showed Lennie a video I’d found, but she hardly even looked at it.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s why we need to get out of here. Am I right?” I grinned at Lennie, but she didn’t smile back.
“I gotta get to class,” she said briefly.
“Oh, me too, I have science and I always forget how far away it is.” Avery rushed off, leaving me with Krista.
“Okay, so on Friday we’re meeting at the diner, then going to the game, right?” she confirmed.
I had totally forgotten about our school spirit mission, and now, tbh, I didn’t really care. “Oh yeah, sounds great,” I forced myself to say.
“And then Harvest Festival on Saturday, obvi. I think Lennie’s hoping to see Sara there.”
A new thought crossed my mind. “Do you think Harvest Festival is actually cringe?” I mused as we picked up our bags and started walking.
“Never thought about it,” Krista said, examining her nails. “But who cares? We like it, and my mom and dad put a lot of effort and money into it. See ya!”
She walked off with her ponytail swinging behind her, and I wondered. Did we like it?
On Friday, I went right to the library after school to cram for a couple of hours before I met up with everyone. Of course I was going to ignore Theo if he happened to be there.
My phone buzzed as I walked through the door.
Lennie: See you at the game later? Sara’s going and I could do with some moral support ?
Me: Of course!
Where else would I be?
Or … where else could I be?
I silenced my phone and walked into the library.
And there he was, at the same desk, in beige chinos and this cozy brown woolen sweater that somehow made him look like he’d stepped out of Instagram.
I was wearing my normal clothes again, back to basic.
I couldn’t show up to the library like I was trying to impress him, after all, so jeans, sneakers, and hoodie it was.
“Hi, Doc,“ Theo said without looking up.
The heat rose in my cheeks as I remembered where that nickname came from. “Don’t call me that,” I said as I sat opposite him.
“Why not? I thought you were really into health care systems?” He glanced up and smirked before returning to his notes.
“I guess it’s better than your nickname, anyway.” I rolled my eyes and opened my laptop.
“Which is what?”
I tried to ignore his blue-eyed stare and focus on my screen, but I also wanted to see his face when I told him. “The Weatherman.”
He burst out laughing. “What? That’s a stupid nickname. How did you come up with that?”
“A stupid nickname for a stupid person,” I mumbled, and typed on my laptop. “Or just for someone who feels the need to mansplain the wind.”
“I didn’t mansplain the wind. You asked a question and I answered it.”
I liked hearing the irritation in his voice, like I’d gotten under his skin.
And then I tried to tune him out.
I’d decided I didn’t need Theo’s help after all and wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking for it.
I was perfectly capable of finding out everything I needed myself.
So I got on with my work, researching journalism, but I kept finding myself drawn to the tour guides, the books that let me immerse myself in a life a million miles away from Oak Falls.
We spent an hour in almost-silence. I’d occasionally look up, and every time, he was concentrating really hard. Every so often he’d push his glasses back into place.
In the middle of a complicated article about writing with cultural sensitivity, I sighed. There was a lot to take in, to think about. Was I even up for this?
Theo looked up from his book. “Something wrong, Doc?”
“Nope,” I said. That nickname had to go. “Why?”
“Because you sighed, and it’s really distracting, so if I can help you fix whatever problem you have, then it would be beneficial for us both, don’t you think?” His blue eyes were cold. Judging.
“I don’t need any fixing, thank you very much. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking to me. I’m busy studying for an entrance exam to a course I want to take. In London. So why don’t you mind your own business, or go outside and explain the rain, Weatherman.”
I’d said “London” smugly, expecting recognition or at least a nod.
But he was so annoying. He just said, “I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that.”
“What? Why would I ask you? And how did you know, anyway?” It was getting harder and harder to be calm.
“You’re not exactly subtle,” he scoffed, reaching over to turn my computer screen. I had the course info open in one tab, but another tab with “London tourism” at the top of the screen.
“Yeah, well, maybe you should keep your beady little eyes to yourself,” I suggested.
“So you don’t want any help?” He looked confused, but I knew it was fake.
“No,” I said flatly. “I don’t.”
He took out his phone and pretended to examine himself in the camera.
“Are my eyes little and beady?” he asked with a phony, pensive face.
His eyes were big and blue, surrounded by the darkest, longest eyelashes I’d ever seen.
They were the kind of blue that changed color depending on the light.
And every new shade of blue seemed better than the last.