6 Library
THE NEXT MORNING, I texted Lennie.
Me: Hey, heard the Hawks won? How was the party?
Lennie is typing
Then she stopped.
Maybe she fell asleep again?
I took a shower, then spent forever teasing my hair into its perfect, perfectly undone waves with these cute tongs that Krista had given me for short hair.
I put on my red lipstick again and found a ruffled white shirt at the bottom of my wardrobe.
I paired it with a plain brown skirt I didn’t even remember buying.
I was being serious now, and I wanted to look the part.
I glanced in the mirror, pleased with myself.
I loved how the red lipstick made me look so different.
Not like Oak Falls Willa, but someone who drank espresso and cared about politics. Someone Theo might like.
I rushed out the door before Pop could ask any questions about my new look.
I knew he’d comment on it, and he’d be really nice.
Tell me he liked it, how it looked great.
But he would also be wondering why I was making so much effort for a trip to the library.
And I didn’t really want to explain it, to him or to myself.
I stopped at the coffee shop on the way to the library. I bought two black coffees (adding three sugars to mine before I even tasted it) and took quick purposeful strides down Main Street.
At the library, Jo gave me a look as I walked in with the coffees. It was technically against the rules to eat and drink, but she just smiled and went back to her work.
Theo was already sitting in our spot, wearing a white shirt under a navy sweater. I watched him for a second, how he pushed his glasses up his nose when he was deep in concentration.
“Hey,” I whispered, sliding his coffee across the table.
He looked up and I watched the corners of his mouth twitch, like he was trying his best not to smile. “Hey, Doc.” I was minding the stupid nickname less, I noticed. “What sugary concoction did you bring me today?”
“Actually, it’s black coffee,” I said, smiling smugly.
“Oh, really? You like black coffee?” he asked, taking the warm cup I handed him.
“You said thanks wrong.” I sat down on the other side of the desk.
“You’re right. Sorry. Thanks. Just thought you were less black coffee, and more … triple-shot pumpkin dream latte with caramel drizzle.”
I could be black coffee if I wanted. I silently congratulated myself on adding so much sugar in advance.
“Nice outfit,” he said, scanning me up and down. I could feel his eyes tracing my body like fingertips.
Heat flooded through me. I hated that my body betrayed me like that, like it was just ignoring all the other signals in my brain.
“Ditto,” I replied, nodding at him.
He laughed. “This? My gran bought me this sweater. It’s from London,” he said with emphasis.
“Oh yeah? Maybe that’s why I like it.”
He closed his books and looked at me. Magnified by his glasses, his eyes today were this light, ice blue that stood out a mile against the contrast of his dark hair. “So, Doc. This course of yours? Do you want some proper help with your essay?”
My heart raced. “Depends who’s offering …”
“An American boy who spends whole days trying to describe buildings in words for his architecture portfolio … and was maybe kind of a jerk when we first met …”
I couldn’t believe it. Was Theo … apologizing?
“Oh my God, do you know him? But I would say less jerk, more … total asshole? Like I knew he obviously wasn’t from Oak Falls because nobody here would ever act like that …”
Theo laughed and shook his hair from his eyes. “I was just really mad about being here …”
“Architecture portfolio?” I raised an eyebrow. Intrigued.
He sighed. “Architecture. That’s the plan …”
“Impressive.”
“Says Ms. London School of Journalism.” His laugh was an exhale.
I took a sip of my coffee, thinking about what to say. Even though it was obvious something had changed last night, I wasn’t sure it would last. But things felt charged somehow. Like we’d broken some kind of invisible barrier between us.
“Is that an actual apology?” It was hard not to smile, but I was trying to be unreadable.
Theo bit his lip, like he was deciding what to do with his mouth. So sexy. Then my whole abdomen betrayed me, by aching with a longing I don’t think I’d ever felt.
“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far, Doc. It’s more like a justification for some ill-timed rage.”
“It’s fine, I get it. I’d be pissed too if I was supposed to be in London and was sent here. But yes, I will accept your offer of help. Please and thank you.”
Theo wiped his brow in mock relief. “Why don’t you sit here?” He patted the seat beside him. “It might be easier for us to talk quietly if you don’t have to use your big loud Oak Falls whisper across the table.”
“I do not have a loud whisper,” I whispered.
Loudly. Then I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing.
I got up and moved my books over so we were sitting right beside each other.
The smell of his cologne, again. Fresh, outdoorsy mountain air.
It made me want to lean into him. But I resisted.
“Okay, it’s actually your lucky day, Willa Taylor, because not only have I been working on my portfolio essays, but I also won a creative writing competition at school when I was seven.”
I tried to stifle my laugh. “When you were seven?”
“Excuse me, but did you win a prestigious creative writing prize when you were seven?” His eyes twinkled. “No. I thought not. So listen up.”
And I did listen. And he listened to me. But we mostly talked about other things—family, friends, hopes, dreams—with a tiny bit of writing.
We sat so close, legs touching, shoulders pressed together, as he read through the embarrassingly rough draft of my essay on the screen, making notes in the margins.
He didn’t laugh or make sarcastic comments.
Not once. Then he stopped reading and looked at my face.
Really looked at it, and this time, I enjoyed the intensity.
“You know … there’s lots of rain in London. And gray skies, lots of gray skies,” he said as seductively as someone could talk about the weather. “Would you like to know the origins of rain? Because I know a lot about it …”
“This doesn’t surprise me,” I replied, my skin tingling.
“So you’ll have to bring an umbrella and get a proper raincoat. Those cute coats you wear won’t cut it in London.”
“Oh, really?” I asked. Trying not to let my face show how much I liked hearing that my coats were cute.
“Really,” he assured me.
And somehow, between the essay and the weather report, Theo’s hand found mine. On my books, his hand on top, fingers threaded through fingers. I didn’t react. I didn’t want anything to change, because the feeling was hot and sweet and making me hungry for more.
“And what about in summer?” I asked. “Will I need a raincoat then?”
Theo shook his head. “It can get really hot in summer, Doc …”
He was looking at me differently now. No condescending smirk or analytical stare. Something else. Something that made my breath catch.
And without any warning, he pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, leaned toward me, and kissed me. Hard and soft all at the same time. His lips urgent against mine, his hands holding my face like it was something precious. Right there in the library, our hands still tangled together.
I kissed him back, using my free hand to find his shirt and pull him closer.
And when we broke apart, foreheads leaning against each other, he whispered, “Willa.” And I think my heart skipped a whole beat.
Then my phone buzzed in my pocket, dragging me out of the moment. For some reason my first thought was that someone had seen us and we were already the subject of town gossip. I pulled it out of my pocket urgently.
“Everything okay?” Theo asked as I stared at my phone.
It wasn’t town gossip. It was Lennie and she was pissed.
Lennie: Are you even coming to Harvest Festival?!
Lennie: Because you bailed on literally everything else
Lennie: Will, what the hell is going on with you?
“Oh yeah, everything’s fine,” I replied, but the spell had broken.
Theo was back in his seat, typing furiously, as if we had never kissed at all.
I stared at the messages. Lennie knew I had tons of work to do, and she’d encouraged me to do it! I shook my head and put on my jacket, the only one I had. The brown overcoat that wouldn’t look right in London.
“I need to go … I think,” I said, trying to figure out my next move. Where would I go? Lennie’s house? So she could be pissed at me in person? Harvest Festival hadn’t even started yet.
“I thought you wanted to study?” There was a flash of the old Theo in his look. “Small-town America and its charms calling you back already?”
I sighed. “I’m going to ignore the dig at Oak Falls.”
He stared at his laptop, and there was more painful silence until my phone buzzed on the table. More from Lennie. I started packing up my stuff, and Theo didn’t acknowledge me at all. I stood there for a second, waiting for what? An apology? An explanation? For him to ask me to stay?
Nothing.
Oak Falls really stepped it up for Harvest Festival.
Piles of pumpkins everywhere, string lights, lanterns, kids on hayrides having the time of their lives.
After promising Lennie I’d be there, I had gone and sulked at home for a while.
Feeling petty, I waited to leave until I knew things would be in full swing, and by the time I got to the town square, it was buzzing with people.
I found Lennie, Krista, and Avery hanging out by the s’mores.
“Hey, guys, how’d the game go last night?” I asked. Maybe if I pretended everything was okay, then it would be.
Lennie looked up but didn’t respond. Maybe because she had a mouthful of marshmallow. Or maybe because she was still mad.
“Oh my God, Willa, I can’t believe you missed it,” Krista said dramatically.
“What happened? Did they win?”
“Did who win?” Krista looked confused.
“The Hawks.” Wyatt rolled his eyes in Krista’s direction.
“Oh, I don’t know. Did they?”
“You were there …” Wyatt said.