Sam and the Library

Ashtyn Miller

His hands moved a little bit off the crook of her waist and on to the small of her back. At this point, she’d quit shaking quite as voraciously, relaxing her awkward limbs around this strange boy, who she didn’t know anything about. Instead of focusing on what was happening, which would have made her small but- very scary- mother gasp, she let her mind wander. Keeping her lips moving, she began to think about how the hell she’d gotten here.

This was not like her! Normally very independent but shy, she knew her wrong and right, and she did not do things like this. But boys make reasonable girls forget how to stand up, and this one was no different. This had begun by showing Cady a piece of paper in the hallway. Normally the voice of reason in their friendship, she asked,

“Should I?”

Cady, looking briefly at the note in the strangely damp palm of her friend, giggled in the middle of the hospital-like lighting of the schools main hallway.

“Go!” She said, pushing her in the right direction.

Sam ran-walked down toward the library, blushing, not knowing how to swing her arms naturally at all, and questioning if this was even a thing she would end up doing. This was very unlike her. In her mind she pictured turning around and going back outside, into the cold February air, down the pavement, to wait with her team for soccer practise to commence. But she was here now, at the library door. She paused, hand on doorknob, and almost let her reasonable brain turn her right back around. passers -by must have wondered what she was doing, standing there looking uncomfortable, not entering.

At some point, life becomes uneventfully dull. It’s the movement of school, and of life, that dulls into a continuous wave, pushing us back and forth, into a sleepy state. For Sam, especially in her first year as a high schooler, this was very true. With the same classes and people every day, she didn’t take interest in standing in the shadows, wallowing in her own simpleness. She didn’t want to be the same boring child she had been for the past millennia, or to her it had felt. She lacked the graces of a woman, or really of anyone who felt confident in their own skin, as she took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

After nearly hitting herself directly in the forehead, as she had overzealously opened to door, she stepped out of the hallway of immaturity! And into the library of sweating, shaking nervously, and not quite remembering how to walk. Eventually, she spotted her very cool, chill-looking date.

Tanned skin, flowing, burgundy hair, Fletcher lifted his chiseled jaw in a greeting to her. She hadn’t known him for long, and actually had met his dad, who taught at the school, before she’d met him.

A glittery shean appeared over him as she strolled prettily over to him. The world moved in slow motion as she neared him, and he stood. Sweeping her off her feet, he kissed her. But this is where the daydream ended, as she had never actually been kissed before. I mean, she practically had, watching Tom Cruise in Top Gun  was a spiritual experience.

As she stumbled over to him, trying not to trip over herself, he smiled a little. She made eye contact with him for as long as she possibly could, trying to appear confident and sure of herself. After the longest 3 seconds of locking eyes, he finally said,

“Hey, how was your day?”

She melted a little, in her black doc martens and giggled out, “good, was how yours?”

Blushing and smacking her head, she corrected herself. Fletcher just smiled, shrugging it off. She sat down, but almost missed the chair, having failed to pull it out enough. They sat there, making small talk, not really saying much for a little while, untill Fletcher got brave, and asked her,

“Want to go sit in by the encyclopedias?”

She responded quickly and nervously, with, “Sure!”

They walked over, she behind him, as he blushed internally, and sweated externally. They arrived to the infamous encyclopedia section, positioned off in a corner of the library, beautifully sheltered from the librarian’s desk (and thus the world) by a couple other rows of books. For a second, they stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Then Sam sat, right in front of a collection of large, thick blue books, and Fletcher sat next to her. Both looking ahead, they said nothing. He would fidget occasionally, until he finally put his arm around her. She smiled, leaning into him.

Repeatedly brushing her brown and boringly straight, shoulder length hair out of her eyes, and trying to avoid accidentally getting it in his mouth, she leaned back after a while and looked at him. He looked right back at her and she felt the urge to giggle. Then she felt a different urge too. Looking at his eyes, then his extremely proportionate nose, then his lips. She leaned in a little bit, hoping he would close the distance.

She sat there for a minute, just enough time to thoroughly second guess herself, and then leaned back again. She turned tomato red, and dried her sweaty palms on her pants, looking down at her lap. She wondered whether he was simply ignorant of her attempted advances, or second guessing his decision to invite her here. She felt irresolute, and wanted to shrink down and crawl beneath the bookshelves, hidden forever.

Suddenly his arm tightened as he twisted his upper half to be parallel with hers. His eyes were closed, lips puckered, kylie jenner style. She felt a lump develop in her throat, her heart thumping through her shirt. She leaned to meet him, and they smashed thier faces together, lips technically touching. The next movement of their lips together was much more orderly, and soft. He moved his arm, trying to make sitting on the floor slightly more comfortable. Oh, okay, she thought as she felt the simultaneously soft and slippery texture of his foreign lips. They got progressively better at this lip-smashing as it went on. Thousands of thoughts passed through her brain, from questioning if they were being too loud, to wondering what happens when she runs out of breath (which proved to be challenging, yes, but doable!).

Suddenly, Sam felt the air between the shelves change, as someone rounded the corner. She pulled away from Fletcher quickly, and he expressed a little surprise at her reaction… until he looked up to see own father standing 3 feet away from where the pair was sitting, hand on an encyclopedia, staring at them. Sam blushed uncontrollably, not certain what to do now. Fletcher got up quickly, brushing himself off.

Mr. Murphy, turned and walked away, grinning, and stifling a laugh. Sam got up after he’d rounded the corner, still embarrassed. Fletcher turned to her, red as well, and started to smile.

“So, when’s you’re next soccer practice?” Fletcher says.

“How about Friday?” Sam says with a smile, turning to walk away.

She pushed open the door of the library and walked away, warm and grinning, as her heart skipped a beat.