Stay with me

Chapter Ten

“Don’t waste ink on girls who are oblivious of their beauty.

Write about the ones who know, but choose to ignore it.”

—Oliver Masters

THE NEXT MORNING, I found a paper slipped under my door. It read, skip breakfast & meet me in room 23 @ 8. The handwriting was in script with no indication as to who it was from. It was fifteen minutes ‘til, and it only took me half a second to decide my need to know who it was from trumped the option of ignoring it. I grabbed my weekend clothes consisting of shorts, Converse shoes, a plain gray tee with a deep V-neck, and a hoodie. My entire wardrobe consisted of whites, grays, and blacks, without a pop of color. Everything went with everything.

After my shower, I left my hair down to air dry. The ends hit just above my chest and had already grown half an inch since I’d been here. It looked darker than usual, but then again, I hadn’t been under the sun in over a month. I’d forgotten what the sun felt like against my skin, and wondered when I would feel it again—if this place didn’t kill me first. Any opportunity we had to go outside, the sun was either hidden behind gray clouds, or it was raining.

Room twenty-three was on the first floor. My shoes made no sound against the marble stairs as I stepped down, praying it wasn’t Liam waiting for me. After a sharp right-hand turn down a long hallway, my stride slowed when I spotted Ollie leaning against the wall with his foot propped, waiting for me at the end with a brown bag and two cups in hand.

Involuntarily, my body paused to take in the sight of him—and to breathe as if I couldn’t seem to do it all at once.

When his eyes met mine, a sleepy but charming smile appeared. The sun’s rays streamed through the windows as if the sun waited on his damn smile, and he dropped his head to hide his satisfaction. He styled his thick hair into its usual backward wave, and small pieces stuck out over his ears. He looked back up at me with a striking grin, and my pace picked up to get to him already—to get to the boy who’d made me punch a damn cement wall because, well, for once, I was ready to admit he’d gotten to me. And I’d never seen it coming.

“You’re late,” he said as I approached, and he handed over a drink. “I understand you Americans prefer your coffee over tea. I hope it’s how you like it.” By immediately taking a sip, I was able to both calm my nerves and conceal my smile. The coffee melted in my mouth and a small moan escaped my throat, and he flashed me a grin. “I honestly didn’t think you’d show.”

“Me neither.” Behind him was a tall wooden door arched into a half circle at the top. It looked misplaced, as if it didn’t belong. Everything else was like me, cold and without personality. But the door was warm and filled with history and character. “What’s this?”

Ollie took a side step and pointed to the sign reading LIBRARY room 23. “Come on, we’re just eating here, but this place is really cool. I think you’ll like it.”

The door creaked open as I stepped inside, and it wasn’t anything like I had expected. A small unattended desk stood in the middle of the floor, holding up a computer monitor belonging in the early ‘90s. Papers and books scattered across the old wooden desk, and I turned to Ollie behind me.

“No one is here on Saturday mornings. We have the whole place to ourselves.” He walked past me and behind the desk, where the room split into several options to walk through, and said, “Come on, follow me.”

Ollie led me down an aisle not nearly wide enough for two people to stand side by side. Each row was narrow and stacked from floor to ceiling with books. The library had a sweet but musky smell like chocolate mixed with paper.

Ollie made a sharp left, which opened up another ten different possibilities to turn. Each row was narrower than the last, but Ollie swiftly moved as if he knew where to go. Unable to tell my left from my right, or up from down, corridors and passageways split in all directions, interwoven to create a dream world surrounded by literature. Books stacked every inch, and my eyes darted around as Ollie led me through the web until we finally reached our destination.

A hidden small round nook spiraled in color-coordinated books to the ceiling. Spotlights bounced off the circular walls and onto the floor, and I looked up to see a skylight. Ollie took a seat on the floor and patted the space beside him for me to sit before he opened the bag.

“Where did you get all this?” I asked when he handed me a croissant.

He took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes as if he’d been waiting to get to his spot to enjoy something as simple as the first sip. His eyes didn’t open again until he swallowed it down, but when they did, he caught me in awe of him. “It’s the little things, Mia.” We shared a smile before he finally answered my original question. “I can’t tell you all my secrets. Plus, if I told you, you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

My teeth sunk into the croissant, and it was the perfect amount of crispy flakiness on the outside and buttery fluff on the inside. “You bring me croissants every Saturday, and I’ll gladly bear your children.”

Ollie turned his head to face me and the lump in his throat moved. “I’m holding you to that.” He gri

“It’s like a maze in here, though. How do you not get lost?”

He swallowed the food in his mouth before saying, “Oh, I do. One time it took me an hour to find the entrance, but no matter how long or far I stray, I always find my way back. I’m usually here every Saturday morning. Eating in the mess hall every day with the same people can get old after a while. You have to break it up to keep your sanity.” He pulled his knees up and rested his arms over them. “Again … the little things.”

After popping the rest of the croissant into my mouth, I took a sip of my coffee and stood to my feet. Ollie looked up at me with an open mouth and curious eyes. “And where do you think you’re ru

“We’re going to play a game,” I said, and a smile crept along his lips. “You find me first, and I’ll give you an answer—

“An answer to what?”

“Whatever one question you want to ask me, but”—I held up a finger—”if I can get to you first, you have to tell me why you’re here.”

He dropped the last piece of his donut in his mouth, and with a mouthful, he said, “Alright, let’s do this.” He dusted off his hands and stood.

Slowly, I backed away from him. “You stay here, count to sixty while I try to get lost.”

Ollie took a step forward and I took another step back.

An assertive smirk played on his lips. “Don’t leave this library, Mia. If I spend hours searching for you like a fool to find out you left …”

I rested my hands on my hips and returned the same smile. “What are you going to do?”

Ollie’s gaze dropped to the floor as he shook his head lightly, hiding his smile. He ran his hand through his hair as he turned his back to me. “I’m not counting out loud, love. You better get going.” He placed his palms against the circular book case and leaned over.

I watched him, admiring the way his shoulder blades moved beneath his shirt; then my eyes skimmed down his torso and landed on his cute butt.

“I know you’re checking me out.” He laughed.

My cheeks warmed and I took off in the opposite direction, trying to lose myself in the maze. After about a minute passed, my voice danced across the bindings of numerous books as I slowed to a walk through a passageway and down another aisle, “Come find me, Ollie.”