10 Library
OVER THE NEXT WEEK or so, Theo and I were inseparable.
He started meeting me before school, standing at my street corner, holding one black coffee and one pumpkin spice latte after I’d admitted what I really liked.
(Turned out he knew all along.) After school, we’d study at the library, and then he’d come back to my house to continue his fix-it bromance with my pop.
Theo had adapted so fully to Oak Falls that it was his idea to go to the town Bonfire Night together.
It was one of my favorite nights of the year, and I couldn’t wait to make him part of it. But this year, it brought something else. Bonfire Night meant it was almost Thanksgiving. And Thanksgiving meant things changing once and for all.
The fire blazed in the town square, flames leaping orange and gold against the dark November sky.
Kids ran around with sparklers, writing their names with the light, and families huddled together holding cups of hot cocoa, waiting patiently for the fireworks.
Pop and Jo were walking around hand in hand, like they’d been together for years.
We found everyone by the food cart.
“She’s here!” Lennie spun around and hugged me. She turned to Theo. “Weatherman, maybe you could explain to us why it’s so damn cold tonight?”
“Funny,” Theo said. “So what is there to do around here?”
“Well, there’s the bonfire, and the fireworks start in like an hour. The best view is over there by the creek.” Lennie pointed toward the other side of the square. “That’s where Sara and I will be watching, anyway.”
“The creek?” Theo raised an eyebrow, joking with my best friend. “You know cold air settles near water … so it’ll be at least five degrees colder over there.”
“Always with the weather,” Lennie mock-whispered.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’ll have you to keep me warm, then,” I said, nudging Theo.
“Sounds romantic.” Sara leaned into Lennie.
Theo looked down at my sweater. “Hypothermia is not romantic.”
“Why are you looking at me when you say that?”
“Because you’re the one who came out in inadequate clothing,” Theo said.
“A sweater and a jacket is not inadequate. And look around. I’m dressed just like everyone else.”
Theo scanned the crowd. “The plaid epidemic in its natural state …”
“Hey!” I pushed him playfully.
“Hey yourself,” he said, moving in front of me so it felt like it was just the two of us alone in the world.
Then he leaned in and whispered, “Hey, why don’t we go back to your place so you can get some warmer clothes?” His voice was deeper than usual. More intimate. And the intensity in his eyes let me know he wasn’t just suggesting that I pick up an extra sweater.
“I like that idea,” I said, mock-shivering, and he put his arm around my shoulder as we said goodbye to my friends and left the bonfire behind.
We’d barely made it through my front door before we were kissing. My back was against the wall, and Theo’s lips pressed on mine with so much urgency that my whole body answered by pressing against his.
I led him into my bedroom, both of us shedding clothes and leaving them on the floor. Then our bodies were pressed against each other again, warm skin on skin, tongues hot and desperate, hands everywhere.
He sat on my bed and pulled me toward him. I stood between his open legs as we kissed, then let him lay me down.
And then we were together in the most perfect way.
Our hips moving in sync, our tongues pressed against each other, his hands, oh, his hands that traced my cheek so gently, like I was something delicate.
We relaxed into each other as waves of pleasure took over us both.
And for a while, I just lay there, all my weight on Theo, his chin on my head, both of us basking in the aftermath of magic.
I wanted to stay in this moment forever. Not think about anything else, not the future, or exams, or choices … just this. But my mind wouldn’t let me. The exam was getting close. Too close to shove out of my head.
And the spell was broken when I wondered what our future might look like if I did go to London. London. The exam. The essay … I could tell him what was worrying me.
“Theo, I’m really struggling with my essay,” I admitted. I’d started and restarted it a million times.
“You only think that.” Theo dismissed my worry, stroking my arm softly. “Clear your head. Stop thinking so much. You just need to be honest.”
“It’s not that simple. I think I know what I want to say, but I just can’t get it out in the right way.”
“Just be you. You is perfect,” he said. “Like remember when you were trying all those new clothes and drinking black coffee? You looked amazing, don’t get me wrong, but when you were standing there in your sweater in the library, in your jeans and your boots, it was like, this is the girl I’m falling in love with.
Not the new one, as awesome as she was too—”
“Sorry, what?”
I could barely get the words out.
“You said you were falling … in love?” I squeezed my eyes shut, in case I’d just imagined it.
“Yeah? And?”
I kissed him.
And I wasn’t scared of the exam or the essay anymore.
“I guess I’m falling in love with you too.”
The day before the exam, Lennie was at my house. She insisted on having movie night as usual instead of “you panicking the whole night.”
She curled up on the sofa beside me with the heat from the fire warming our cheeks. I was too distracted to decide what to watch, so I handed the reins to Lennie.
“My Oxford Year?” she suggested.
I’d been trying to get her to watch it for ages, but she’d always refused.
I hugged her, grateful. It wasn’t just a movie. It was Lennie showing me, without saying anything, that she knew how much this all meant to me.
“What about the essay. Is it all done?” Lennie said after the movie—which was fluffy and sweet, just what I needed—before stuffing more popcorn than I thought possible in her mouth.
“All done.” My stomach lurched. I could barely count how many hours I’d spent on it.
Lennie raised her eyebrows. “Can I … read it?”
Suddenly I wanted Lennie’s approval more than anything. “Oh my God, would you?” I handed her my laptop, with the essay open on the screen.
I watched her nervously, the same way I watched horror movies, mostly through my hands. But she didn’t look like she hated it. In fact she sniffled, like she was trying not to cry.
“Lennie, are you …?”
“No!” she insisted. But I knew.
I’ve wanted to travel the world for as long as I can remember.
Ever since I was forcing secondhand Barbie into her pink convertible and racing her across our worn wooden floors on her way to “Kenya.” Back then, I didn’t know what Kenya actually looked like, only that it was far away and sounded cool.
I’d make my dad sit in a makeshift airplane where I would be the pilot, and we’d travel all over the world.
Or at least to the countries I’d heard of by the time I was six.
When other kids were dreaming about their next birthday party, I was already dreaming about escaping the only place I’d ever called home.
Because to be a real traveler, you had to leave your hometown. Right?
When I got older, I changed myself to prepare for future journeys.
Started drinking black coffee I hated. Wore new clothes.
Looked down on the town I’d grown up in, like it was something to escape rather than somewhere I belonged.
I thought if I was going to travel the world, regular Willa Taylor from Oak Falls wasn’t good enough. I had to become someone else first.
I was wrong.
It took falling for someone who saw through all of it, and nearly losing my best friend, to understand. You can’t run toward something new if you’re running away from who you are.
I still want to see new places. I still dream of the Taj Mahal, the Colosseum, the Tower of London.
But not to become someone different. Now I know I want to see what parts of myself I discover when I’m ordering coffee in broken Italian, when I’m lost on a Greek street where nobody knows my name, when I’m standing in front of a beautiful piece of art.
Travel isn’t about leaving yourself behind. It’s about taking yourself with you and coming home to see everything with fresh eyes.
The girl who raced Barbie across wooden floors already had everything she needed for the journey. She just needed to stop apologizing for it.
Lennie closed the laptop quietly. “Will, it’s beautiful. There’s no way you aren’t getting in. You were born to do this. Willa Taylor, I’m so proud of you.”
And as Lennie’s eyes filled again, so did mine. But I didn’t do quite as good a job of keeping the tears away.
When Lennie went home, I promised to call her the second the exam ended.
And before I went to sleep, I opened Mom’s notebook for inspiration.
Lisa May leaves tomorrow.
Paris first, then who knows where. She asked me one more time to come with her.
“Just for a few months. See what it’s like.
” Part of me wanted to say yes. The part that wonders what the Seine looks like at sunrise, what it feels like to be anonymous in a city of millions.
But Mike is here. And this town, these people.
My whole life is here. I told Lisa May no.
Watched her try not to look disappointed.
She said, “I hope you’re not staying because of a man.
” I said, “I’m staying because of me.” But here’s what I didn’t tell her …
if Mike wanted to go somewhere, really wanted it, I think I’d follow him
anywhere. Not because I need to. Because I’d want to see the world through his eyes. That’s the difference, I think. Between staying for someone and staying with someone.
Obviously it couldn’t be possible, but it felt like Mom was there with me right then, cheering me on and wishing me luck. And all my nerves disappeared because I knew that whatever happened, I would be okay.
And then it was here. Exam Day.
Too nervous to eat more than a protein bar, I said goodbye to Pop, declining his repeated offers to walk me to the library. I wanted to clear my head.
The rust-colored trees were still shedding their leaves along Maple Street, and I kicked a pile of burnt gold, thinking of Mom and her laugh.
Jo was keeping one section of the library blocked off for me. The exam was for one hour online under supervision. I tried to breathe evenly.
My friends sent strings of emojis and messages of love.
And when I turned the corner to the library, there was Theo, across the green, holding two cups.
I ran, because I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to waste a second when I didn’t have to. And he almost dropped the cups when I ran into his arms.
“Wow, that’s some welcome,” he said.
“We weren’t going to meet until after!” I said. This was the best surprise.
He handed me a cup. “Pumpkin spice latte for good luck. Not that you’ll need it.” He winked at me and my stomach flipped. I sipped the hot, sweet coffee and it took me right back to the first day we’d met at the library.
“Just what I needed.”
“Willa …?”
I glanced up to see Theo looking … nervous? And my heart started to race. I didn’t need anything complicated right now.
“I’ve decided something. I’m staying in Oak Falls, at least for now.
I’m going to apply to architecture programs I can do remotely, give Alfie and Hadley some help with the kids …
and I was thinking about your course. And I won’t be offended if you hate the idea or you say no, or anything like that …
but I was just thinking that maybe I could come over and help you get settled before you start in September? ”
I gasped in shock. Not bad shock. But because my whole world had unexpectedly fallen into place in the most spectacular way.
“I literally cannot think of anything better.” And then I kissed him, as if to seal it as a promise, as the fall leaves danced around us.
“Oh, there’s Jo.” Theo nodded toward the door of the library, where Jo was waiting.
“I better go and do this. But there’s one thing,” I said. I bit my lip.
“What’s that?”
“I haven’t gotten in yet,” I said in a small voice.
“You will, because you’re amazing, Doc. And I’ll be right here when you get out.”
I inhaled his words, filling my heart, my mind, my soul with that confidence.
Jo welcomed me with a smile far warmer than the fall-turning-to-winter air.
And I walked through the door to the start of my new journey.