#i shifted and reshelved half the entire kids section

[finalgirlfailure]

I feel like I got hit by a fucking bus because of all the shit I did at work

[redbeanboi]

Page Duties

originally uploaded to ao3 on 19/01/10. 

Rating: Teen/Gen.

Pairing: Josuke Higashikata/F!Reader

Summary: Working at the library is pretty straightforward: reshelving materials and media, helping library patrons find books, reuniting lost children with their parents, and last but certainly not least—dealing with the local delinquents.

Beware: Tooth-rotting fluff galore (gross!!), also spoiler: Josuke’s a total dork

Wordcount: 5.2k

You’d been working at the Morioh Public Library for months and memorized the face of every regular patron. New library patrons would enter everyday, and, much to your frustration, you would constantly have to learn new names and new faces. One of them, however, seemed to stand out to you the most.

Josuke Higashikata.

You both went to Budogaoka High School but he probably didn’t know you even existed. He was handsome. Girls swarmed him, boys picked fights with him, and despite every teacher’s disdain towards his getup, they all generally agreed that he was a decent student. You rarely ever saw him in school, and even if you did you’d usually be greeted with the back of his marvelous head of hair. In fact, you can’t remember ever seeing his face before. Had you not been familiar with his embellished uniform or signature hairdo, you probably wouldn’t have recognized him.

He’d only started coming into the library recently; in fact, you were the one who’d given him a library card. At first you were surprised to learn that he didn’t already own one (don’t they give these out to kids when they’re in elementary school?), but considering his reputation for being a delinquent, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Maybe he lost his? Who knows.

Either way, you only remembered the experience because he’d avoided making eye contact with you the entire time, and mumbled a barely audible “thanks” once you handed it to him. When your fingers accidentally brushed the back of his hand he flinched and ducked out of the library, his friend Koichi not far behind. At first his behavior irritated you—he didn’t have to act that disgusted for having to talk to you—but you couldn’t find yourself able to blame him for very long. I mean, how would you feel if some stranger accidentally touched you?

He started coming in regularly after that—two or three times a week—for the past two and a half weeks now. Josuke never went by himself; he was usually accompanied by Koichi, or his other friend Okuyasu. What puzzled you most is the fact that he never bothered to check out materials. What’s the point of getting a library card if you’re just going to sit at a table for a few hours and read manga? Anyone can come in without a library card and sit at the tables—you only need a card if you’re planning on taking materials outside.

***

Okuyasu sat at the far corner of the table, deeply immersed in the new Shounen Jump. They’d been at the library for hours now, and his patience was running thin. When his eyes wandered towards his friend, a vein pulsed at his temple. That does it.

“Josuke, why are we here? The new Shounen Jump is at the Owson in town. I usually buy it from them anyway.”

Josuke didn’t answer. His head rested in his palm and his eyes were starry. A sigh escaped his lips. Okuyasu could barely contain his restlessness. “Are you even listening—”

“Sh.” Josuke held his finger to his lips, his gaze still directed elsewhere. Okuyasu looked on at his friend in disbelief. Did Josuke just hush him? “Just a little longer, alright Okuyasu?”

“It’s friday afternoon,” Okuyasu hissed underneath his breath. He’d lowered his voice now, maybe that would satisfy Josuke. “We’ve been here three times this week already. And we stay here for hours just sitting here doing nothing. Maybe we should actually do our homework here from now on, so at least we have nothing else to do when we get home.”

Realization washed over Josuke’s face. Of course. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

On their way out, they accidentally walked into you—well, Josuke did. Okuyasu, relieved to have finally gotten Josuke to leave, apologized rather brusquely on behalf of his friend. “Sorry about my friend! He’s a little starry eyed right now.”

You waved it off wordlessly, watching with interest as they made their exit. “So...Josuke Higashikata’s got a crush on someone who goes here.”

***

You immediately drop this theory once the next week rolls around, because he’s suddenly decided to actually study at his usual spot. Okuyasu has joined him in his study sessions too. Eventually Koichi comes, his girlfriend Yukako in tow and helps them review. You’re surprised. Mostly because you didn’t think delinquents would really care about their school work but perhaps you were just being judgemental. Maybe he just developed a newfound love for books.

This could explain why he looked longingly at the shelves every so often. One time, you caught him staring in your direction, his mind clearly wandering off. You wondered what he could possibly be thinking about. Eventually he’d take breaks from studying and would circle around the library to stretch his legs. He’d even pass by you two or three times, and would sheepishly return your polite nods. Studying can get uncomfortable, so it only makes sense to want to walk it off, though he seemed to take breaks pretty often. Sometimes every fifteen minutes. How peculiar!

They all began to sit near the children’s section, meaning they could technically talk a little louder than usual, since the children were fairly loud themselves. It also meant that you’d be seeing them pretty often.

Secretly, you dreaded shelving away items in the juvenile section—mostly because there were so many of them. Kids went through books rather quickly, and much to your annoyance, every one of your coworkers left you to shelve all these materials. After all, the kids seemed to listen to you. You were calm, and very difficult to irritate. You also were successful in getting them to calm down. Kids running around? Your calm and quiet voice often got them to settle back into their seats. A quick “be careful there, you’ll get hurt” and the little ones would quickly quiet down and go back to reading. You’d caught Josuke and his gang watching with interest as you dealt with the kids a few times, and the attention made you uncomfortable. You hoped they would quit staring soon.

After another week, Josuke found it hard to hide his crush from his friends. While they noticed Josuke’s strange behavior, it never occurred to them that it was because of his crush on one of the library pages. But it became all too obvious when they’d caught him spacing out, shamelessly peering at you over the edge of his chemistry textbook.

Their cackles were loud enough for you to notice, and you too ended up catching him in the act. Maybe they were making fun of you? You did trip on some building blocks a few seconds ago. You immediately scurried off to the nearby cart and hid behind the shelves, desperate to avoid any more attention or embarrassment.

“Oh, I see Josuke,” Okuyasu cooed, nudging the pompadoured teen.

Josuke playfully nudged Okuyasu back. “What? She’s cute. Think she goes to our school?”

“I think,” Koichi murmured, glancing back and forth from Josuke to you. “I think she might be in my class.”

After some digging and snooping around, they’d found out that you were, in fact, one of Koichi’s classmates. You were extremely polite, had some of the best grades in your class, and even had a close and affectionate relationship with your parents. Okuyasu and Koichi find it amusing that Josuke’s developed such an intense crush on a goody-two-shoes but welcome this unexpected discovery nonetheless. Perhaps you would be a good influence on him.

They all went back to their work, and eventually Koichi and Yukako left. When you finished your shift, you noticed Okuyasu and Josuke were still hunched over their notes, stuck on the same chemistry problem that they were tackling earlier. Although they were strangers, you felt some sense of familiarity with them. After all, they had been coming to the library for five weeks now, and they were often bumping into you. At some point, Josuke had even asked you where some of the Geometry books were.

Maybe you were well acquainted enough to approach them? Although you were definitely lacking in social graces when it came to people over the age of ten, you figured now would be a good time to push yourself. So what if they’re delinquents? You inhaled sharply, and before you knew it you were already making your way towards your classmates. They hadn’t even noticed you peering over their shoulders. A quick “ahem” brought their attention however.  

Josuke jumped when he realized that you snuck up on them. He stared after you in confusion. Okuyasu, on the other hand could barely hide the grin on his face.

“I noticed you’re having trouble with this one problem,” you tapped on the molarity question. “I could help you two if you like. Chemistry is one of my best subjects.”

“Oh? I guess she should help you then, huh Josuke?” Josuke shot a threatening glare towards Okuyasu, but upon remembering that you were still waiting for an answer, he veered his neck the other way to face you.

He flashed a dazzling smile and immediately accepted your help. “We’d appreciate it actually.”

You’d gone through several problems and it seemed they finally understood what you meant. You even worked through an entire chapter with them. Okuyasu immediately caught notice of the time and excused himself, leaving you with Josuke. You awkwardly shuffled your feet.

Ah. So... what exactly happens now? Should you ask about schoolwork again?

“So.” You jumped at the sudden interruption. “Do you have a name?”

You snorted at the question. What a strange way to ask for someone’s name! He’s certainly sillier than he looks. “I-I mean, of course you have a name, I just.. I’d like to actually know it. That way I can thank you properly.”

“It’s y/n.”

“Y/n huh? Thanks for helping out with Chemistry. And, for the library card.”

You nodded and murmured a quick acknowledgement of his thanks. And then silence ensued.

Josuke broke the silence with an awkward cough. “Do you go to Budogaoka High School? I think I would’ve remembered a face like yours.” The quirk in your brow sent him into a panic as he realized what he’d implied. “I-I mean you’re very cute, so—um.” You gave him a few seconds to recover, trying hard not to smile as he shrugged. “Yeah...”

The small smile you gave him in reply was enough to calm him down. “To answer your question, I go to Budogaoka... Class 1-A.”

“Oh that explains it. I’m in 1-B, so it makes sense that I haven’t really seen you around. We’ve never bumped into each other before have we?”

“Actually… we were in the same classes all throughout junior high,” you admittedsheepishly.

“Really?!” Josuke slouched forward and buried his face into his hands.

“It’s really not a big deal! I kind of stick to the walls,” you laughed, patting an awkwardly reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Josuke looked down at you and greeted you with that same infectious smile. “Sorry I kept you here after work…” His voice trailed off, but he continues when his eyes meet yours. “But you really helped us out with reviewing. Do you think you can study with us too? I mean, when you’re not working, obviously.”

His chuckle sent your heart into overdrive. A flash of heat was beginning to burn through your cheeks. Josuke took notice and his lips broke into a goofy smile. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

You nodded your head furiously and turned away, hoping you wouldn’t embarrass yourself any further.

Josuke walked you home afterwards. As it turned out, he was actually a very friendly and kind person. And while he certainly looked the part, Josuke Higashikata was no delinquent. Your conversation was cut short when a tall and handsome man pulled his car over, rolling the window down to tell Josuke that they needed to talk. Josuke asked his new companion to wait for just a few minutes, before walking you to your doorstep.

“Sorry,” he explained. “My nephew’s in town right now so he’ll want to catch up with me.”

“Nephew? He looks older than you.” you peered over his shoulder at the offstandish stranger.

“It’s a long story…” he laughed and waited until you were inside before going back to Jotaro, whose signature stoic expression faded away, revealing the all-knowing smirk on his lips.

“What’re you looking at Jotaro?”

“Gimme a break Josuke.” He tipped his hat to cover his eyes, sighing loud enough for all of Morioh to hear. “And go flirt with girls some other time, I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

A violent red blush spread over his neck and spilled onto his cheeks. “L-let’s... Let’s go home then.”

***

Josuke started coming to the library every day during the week, and you’d even held conversations with him a few times. At first conversation was hard to sustain, given how you didn’t have anything in common, but as it turns out you were wrong about that—you both liked playing video games. In fact, you both exchanged cheats every now and then.

“No way!” you exclaimed. “I had no idea that you could do that on the final boss...”

The smug expression on Josuke’s face coaxed a few giggles from you. He’s so unbelievably silly. The Josuke fanclub at school would never believe that Josuke Higashikata was not the suave delinquent they believed him to be. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it when I found out either!”

Eventually you had grown comfortable enough to tease him and act silly. Work was dreadful, but seeing Josuke everyday made it exciting. He was a wonderful friend and even better company, especially during your shifts. You were thankful that this awful job made it possible for you to befriend Josuke. He was so kind and thoughtful. Every shift felt excruciatingly long, and you were often running around the library doing tedious work.

Sometimes, other libraries would request certain books and you’d be tasked with finding them. Before you befriended Josuke, this task would take you around an hour to complete; there were just so many books in the library and people often reshelved them incorrectly. Recently, however, all of these books would—oddly enough—suddenly appear in the cart. You could’ve sworn you’d seen them all magically hover around the library mid-air, but that would just be silly.

After a particularly exhausting day at school, you dragged your feet at work and simply felt too taxed to do anything, much less trudge through a 4 hour shift. Josuke certainly noticed the change in your demeanor, and when you were too busy to even greet them and chat for a few minutes, he’d gotten up from his seat, telling his friends he would be taking a break from studying.

It took him several minutes to find you but once he did, he understood why you hadn’t stopped by.

You were standing on the tips of your toes straining to reach the top shelf, large Geography reference book in hand. To be honest, Josuke thinks it’s adorable; you’ve puffed your cheeks in frustration, hair is haphazardly falling into your eyes, and best of all you hadn’t even thought of using the footstool that lay on the ground three feet away from you. He thinks that bringing it over to you would probably be the nicer thing to do, but nice wasn’t exactly what he was going for at the moment.

Hard at work, you’d been trying your hardest to get this heavy book onto the shelf when a calloused hand comes into your view, and when it hovered overhead, you yelped and fell backwards. 

Into Josuke, of course.

“J-Josuke?!”

“Sorry about that,” he hummed softly. “It just looked like you were having trouble… May I…?”

He gestures towards the book in your hands, and your lips part, mouth forming an “o” shape. Josuke came over to help you. You sheepishly relinquish the book, hands accidentally brushing against Josuke’s fingers. It’s just like the time you’d accidentally touched his hand when you’d given him his library card, only this time, he doesn’t flinch or back away. You look up and immediately find yourself lost in those blue eyes. You’ve always thought he was handsome, but now that you’ve gotten a closer look at him you can’t help but smile.

You snap out of these thoughts as soon as he’s finished putting the book away, and mutter a quick word of thanks before walking over to your cart. But you realize he’d placed the book in the wrong spot, and shyly ask him to move it a couple of spots down. Apparently he’d never heard of the Dewey Decimal System, so you give him a quick run through, just to give him an idea of how everything was organized. You realize he may not need your help finding textbooks anymore, but you’re happy to teach him either way.

“And you have to learn all of that?” He asked in astonishment.

“Most people do— I’ve been going here since I was five years old, so I’d like to think I know it pretty well.” You say, eyes gleaming bright.

Josuke can’t help but notice that your movements are a little sluggish today, and when he sees the cart completely covered top to bottom in books, CD’s and cassette tapes, he immediately decides to assist you.

“Josuke,” you started. “I really don’t want to keep you from studying. I know it’s a heavy cart, but I can handle it.”

Josuke shakes his head, pushing the cart at a steady pace. “I needed to take a break from studying anyway.”

He’d never quite understand why you were working here, but he can’t say he can complain; the only reason he was able to befriend you was because of your job.

Of course, you’d never hung out with Josuke and his friends outside of the library. Sometimes you worried whether they truly wanted to hang out with you. Perhaps they just needed help with homework and were nice enough to provide you some company while you worked. But these thoughts immediately flew to the back of your mind whenever you saw them at the library. They were all so kind and friendly. Work really didn’t seem as bad as it used to be.

And that was when when they got you fired.

It was an accident really. And Josuke apologized profusely afterwards.

In reality, it was just like any other day; you were helping the four of them with practice questions in the middle of your shift, and went back to reshelving books as per usual. One of your classmates recently noticed your expanding social circle, and immediately took it upon himself to keep you from associating with hooligans like Josuke Higashikata. He scoured the entire library in search of you and was relieved to find you alone, working.

“Didn’t know you started doing charity work, Y/n.”

You jump at your classmate’s intrusion. “Oh, it’s just you Tooru. Though, I ought to correct you; I’m not volunteering.. I mean I work here, but I get paid next to nothing and my boss is pretty scary, so I suppose you could call it charity work...” Your voice trails off once you realize how awful your job is.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” He huffed, pointing an accusatory finger towards your friends. “Why would you hang out with people like them ?”

“Them..?” You realize he’s pointing at your new friends, and suddenly get defensive. “You know, Josuke, Okuyasu, Koichi and Yukako are actually really really friendly and kind!” you whispered frantically, hoping your friends couldn’t hear what your classmate was saying.

With that, you turn the other way and push your book cart elsewhere, hoping he would get the message and either apologize or leave you and your friends alone. He does neither of these things, and continues to follow you as you walk away.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” he rasped, trying his best to keep up with you. “Did you forget what happened last year? A man was run over by an ambulance last year and they all just “happened to be there.” Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”

You stare at him incredulously, hissing under your breath. “That man was a murderer and their presence that day was probably just a coincidence. They couldn’t have murdered that psycho.”

Tooru brushed it off and insisted you cease any further interaction with them. “Regardless, they attract way too much trouble. You could get into a messy situation if you keep— “

A familiar presence crept behind you. “Is everything alright Y/n?”

“Josuke,” you chirped. When Josuke interrupted, you loosened up almost immediately, realizing then that he’d stopped studying to come to your aid. “Y-You… You need to study for your exam! Let’s go back to the others.”

Tooru doesn’t let Josuke go very easily, however, sidestepping his way into your intended escape route. “Actually, there is a problem. Leave Y/n alone. You’re going to get her into trouble.”

Josuke’s surprised to hear this. In all honesty, he’d been watching you ever since you left their table to go back to work. Your classmate’s sudden appearance caught his attention, and he certainly didn’t like what he was seeing. From his perspective, Tooru was tailing you around the library and getting you flustered. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have guessed that someone was asking you on a date, and harassing you for an answer at that.

Koichi begged him to ignore it, knowing it could cause trouble, but Okuyasu egged him on, warning him that he ought to take his chance right there before someone else asks you out. So here he was.

The boys were at a standoff for quite a few minutes. On the outside both seemed rather calm. Tooru was trying his best to tell Josuke to leave you alone, that he should think of your wellbeing. The lack of cooperation on Josuke’s part pisses him off more than anything though, so he starts to insult you and question your decision making. You never would’ve guessed your classmate would say such things but you’re more worried that Josuke might believe the unbelievable bullshit that’s coming right out of his—

“I think Y/n can make these decisions for herself, so you should scram.” He waves the air in between them, eyes blank and uninterested.

You wonder how he’s remained so calm towards the other boy, because if you were to assess your feelings, “pissed” would be a pretty good word to use. Tooru on the other hand seems pretty pissed at Josuke’s dismissiveness.

Of course, as a last ditch effort, Tooru implores you to simply listen to him. Delinquents are delinquents, he reasoned. Apparently you were above hanging out with “losers like that.” Regardless of whether they were dangerous, you could hang out with much better people than Josuke. You had good grades and people liked you. Why would you need to hang out with losers who sat on the ground outside Owson? It seemed as though he could go on forever, and you wanted him to stop.

Slapping him in the face wouldn’t nearly be enough to tell him off or stand up for your friends but being around Josuke encourages you to exercise self control. Josuke’s probably the most hot headed person you know, and if he can stay calm right now, then how hard could it be for you?

“Tooru sure is an idiot isn’t he, Josuke? All talk and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about—let’s go somewhere else!” you chittered nervously, taking hold of his hand and trying your best to guide him elsewhere. Josuke’s face is beet red at the sudden contact, but you’re too absorbed in your task to even notice.

“Josuke’s got the dumbest haircut the town’s ever seen, and I’m the idiot? What the hell, Y/n!”

You stiffen at the jabs. Josuke could turn into a beast when it came to his hair— you’d never seen it in person, but the stories were almost legendary. All it took to piss him off were a couple of offhand comments. But of all places for this to happen, it just had to be at your job. You quickly let go of his hand and accepted your fate. You were definitely as good as fired now.

One punch. That was all it took to shut him up. He staggered backwards into a nearby shelf and covered his broken, bloody nose with his hands before ducking out of the library. Much to your surprise, Josuke didn’t take it any further. Although the insults certainly rubbed him the wrong way, he held back. Having a big fight at your workplace could get you into trouble, so one punch would have to do. It’s not like anyone saw anyway.

Or so he thought. To your absolute horror, your boss had seen everything. He immediately called you into his office, berating you for flirting with boys on the job and starting a fight in the middle of the library.

You realize that making excuses would only make you look bad, that remaining silent and taking the abuse is better than wasting your breath on your grumpy boss. Besides— if you were going to look at it objectively, you indirectly caused the fight (if you could even call it that) to begin with. While it wasn’t your fault, you still felt guilty. Not towards the library of course; you should have stood up for your friends more. Josuke and his friends didn’t deserve to be spoken of in such a way.

Josuke, Okuyasu, Yukako and Koichi watched as you received the harsh scolding. The walls barely muffled your boss’ yelling, and it wouldn’t surprise you if everyone in the library could hear what was being said. Under any other circumstance you might have felt guilty or ashamed, but you were so fed up with work lately that you were just waiting to be permanently dismissed.

It took nearly every ounce of strength in Josuke’s body to remain where he stood, to leave you be. He nearly barged into the office when the yelling escalated, but Yukako intervened— something about girls not liking boys who stick their noses into other people’s business, and that you weren’t a baby that needed to be shielded from her boss. Josuke agreed but still felt guilty for not being able to apologize on your behalf.

The door swung open and they immediately ceased further discussion. The four of them watched as you subsequently pulled your coat on and exited the building. It takes an additional few seconds for them to realize that one of the librarians has been speaking to them, informing them that just like you, they would be banned from coming to the library again. Koichi is rather distressed about this, and Josuke makes sure to soothe him before running after you.

Unfortunately for him, by the time he’s parted with his friends and exited the library, you are long gone.

***

He searched every square inch of Morioh to look for you. You weren’t at the library (for obvious reasons), he could never quite catch you before you left your house for school, and his swarm of admirers made it nearly impossible to find you at school.

You felt guilty about it, but if he hadn’t spoken to you before you worked at the library, who’s to say that he’d want to keep talking to you after you were fired? And while you hadn’t gone out of your way to avoid him, you still weren’t actively seeking him out.

But Josuke isn’t the kind to give up, so after several long days of looking for you, he is finally met with success.

He’d gone to the rooftop to eat lunch that day. The past few days were discouraging to say the least. You had been fired, thanks in no small part to him. It’s only right that you would be angry with Josuke. The only way he could make it up to you at this point was to apologize.

Although his friends insisted that they eat lunch together, Josuke felt too downtrodden to spend time with anyone at the moment, so he snuck off to the rooftops to eat in solitude. Not the best punishment for the terrible crime he committed against you, but it would have to do for now.

You’re the last person he expects to see there. Part of him wants to sneak up on you the way he used to in the library, but it just doesn’t seem right. So he simply announces his arrival.

“Hey, Y/n... It’s me, Josuke—the idiot who got you fired?”

“Oh, Josuke.” You shuffle your feet a little. “How are you?”

You felt so incredibly guilty for not sticking up for any of your friends. And while it was true that no one hated you at school, people weren’t nearly as kind or welcoming as Koichi, Yukako, Okuyasu or Josuke were. You felt completely happy spending time with them.

But the truth of it was that you’d never hung out with them outside of the library, and they’d never mentioned wanting to hang out with you anywhere else, so now that you were fired, they’d probably lose interest in you.

You’re surprised then, when Josuke apologizes to you.

“I’m really sorry…” He’s sitting next to you now, hunched over his lunchbox. He looked much smaller in this position. “I should have let it go, really... and I shouldn’t care about what people think of my hair, but I do, and now I got you fired and I know you’re mad at me—”

“Are you kidding me?”

He flinched.

You playfully nudge him in the shoulder. “Josuke,” you start with a giggle. “I’ve been dying to leave that awful job.”

He sat there dumbly, staring at you in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah!” You paused for a few seconds. Now it was your turn to apologize. “I’m sorry about my classmate… These past few weeks made my job so much easier, so it felt like I just spat on your friendship. I should’ve done a better job of telling him off or something.”

Josuke took your hand and gently gave it a squeeze. “I don’t think any amount of talking will change that guy’s mind. We were more worried about you. But if we're going to be honest, he’s kind of got a point.”

“No," You argue. "He couldn’t be any more wrong about you. You’re all nice people.”

“But, Y/n—" he began in a mockingly authoritative tone. “‘Delinquents are delinquents,’ remember?”

You held your sides and shook violently. It was nice to be able to joke and laugh around Josuke again. “Does this make me a delinquent now, too?” 

“Oh yeah,” Josuke nods, matter-of-factly. “You’re one of us now.”

The smirk on his face brings a goofy grin to your face. As a delinquent, you are naturally not afraid of anything, so with this newly found confidence and self assurance, you ask him:

“So… are you doing anything after school?”

[hms-chill]

The Dewey Decimal System, and Other Love Languages

Alternate Title: Love in the Time of Midterms

Summary: A few weeks into his job at the library, a patron asks Henry where to find “the gay books”, kicking off half a semester of pining.

Henry is finishing shelving a cart of large print books when his life changes forever.

"Excuse me, hi. Do you have any gay books?" The boy asking is around Henry's age. He's short, and he's dressed casually in a polo and jeans, dress shoes and backpack categorizing him as a student at the local college. Henry's brain notes that he's attractive, though Henry refuses to acknowledge that thought.

"Of course! Fiction or nonfiction?"

"Oh. I... I guess either one? I wasn't sure I'd get to pick." Henry isn't offended that this handsome college student wouldn't think there were queer books in the library. He isn't, not in the slightest, offended that he seems to think the library is stuck in the 1940s. He refuses to let the other boy see how not offended he is, and he certainly doesn't use the excuse to show off a bit and display just how many queer books the library has.

"Alright, well, for nonfiction, you're going to want the early 300s for books on gender and sexuality. I believe it's somewhere between 303 and 307, and I want to say 306, but I've only been here a couple weeks and don't know the Dewey decimal system as well as I'd like to. I don't get to shelve much nonfic. If you're looking for fiction, we don't exactly have a queer section, but I could direct you to some that I've enjoyed or heard about."

"That would be good."

"If you like Greek mythology, Madeline Miller's A Song of Achilles is very queer. So are most of Rick Riordan's books, especially his later series. If you like travel novels or adventure books, Mackenzie Lee's The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue has a bi lead, and the sequel focuses on his aro/ace sister. If you're into fantasy or fantastic realism, Maggie Stiefvater's The Raven Cycle has queer characters, and Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows is a heist story with a bunch of queer characters. There's also How to Fix a Mechanical Heart, Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit, and Kiss Number 8 in YA, though I haven't read those. In sci-fi, I haven't gotten around to them, but the Welcome to Night Vale novels under Fink would almost certainly have queer representation. The main character of the podcast is gay. He wrote an Alice Isn't Dead novel, too, and that podcast is about a woman looking for her wife, so I can't imagine the book would be... Sorry; this is probably more than you want." The other boy is typing furiously on his phone, brow furrowed just a bit as he tries to get everything down. The way his tongue pokes out the side of his mouth most certainly isn't the cutest thing Henry has seen all day. He has a dog, after all. David is, objectively, much cuter than a handsome boy seriously taking notes on queer fiction that Henry likes.

"This is good. It's perfect. Thank you," the boy says, still looking at his phone. He looks up a moment later, suddenly quieter, to ask, "Um, another question; do you have any books on mental health?"

"Mid or late 100s I think. They're before mythology in the 200s, but I'm not entirely sure where, sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. You're new. That's perfect. Thank you. Have a nice ga-- day. Have a nice day."

"You, too. If you need anything else, I'm working until six, and I spend a lot of time shelving in the kids room. I'd be happy to help."

"Okay. Yeah, thanks. Have a good one." With that, the boy turns to leave, and Henry finishes shelving his cart, trying to forget the other boy's smile and the way he'd furiously typed every book Henry recommended. He tries to forget the other boy's hesitation to ask about mental health books, the endearing shyness that most definitely did not tug at Henry's heartstrings. After all, there really isn't a point pining over a patron he'll never see again.

-

As it turns out, Henry does see the patron again. He's back a few days later, and Henry looks up just in time to see him dump a massive stack of books into the return slot. He smiles at Henry, making a beeline over to where he's shelving.

"Hi again, um, do you have any cookbooks?"

"Upstairs; 641."

"What the fuck. Hod do you do that?"

"We have a lot of cookbooks, and they're popular. I reshelve them a lot." It's really not that impressive of a thing to know. Some of Henry's coworkers know the Dewey decimal system forwards and backwards, but the other boy is looking at him like he's just done something incredible."

"What else do you have memorized?"

"Um, let's see. World War II is in the 940s. Current politics are in the 900s; The Meuller Report is in the 990s I think. I shelved that a lot. Mythology is in the 200s, folklore and fairy tales and stuff the late 300s. UFOs, cryptids, that kind of thing in the 90s, and computer stuff before that. Hobbies are in the 690s or 790s. Animals are 590s; sharks in particular are... 597? No. 587. I think. Airplanes 626. 808 is short stories, poems are after that and then by 811 you're into plays. Workout and health stuff is before cookbooks, so 639 or 640. Queer and gender stuff 306. Biography 900s is princess books, and 400s are foreign language. Travel is the late 800s or early 900s I think; they're in the back somewhere."

"That's incredible. I thought you said you were new. How long have you been here?" He's so impressed, and Henry isn't sure he's ever felt so proud of something so simple. The fact that this random patron is one of two people in the city to actually compliment him recently certainly doesn't help with the crush he's working hard not to develop.

"About three weeks."

"Holy sh-- cow. You're so smart. How are you this smart?"

Henry feels his face start to go red. "It's just one of those things you pick up."

"Still, it's incredible."

"Thank you. But you needed a cookbook? Any type in particular? We have a pretty large collection, so I can show you the online catalog if you want. It can give you more exact information than I can."

"Yeah, but if you teach me to use the catalogue, I won't have an excuse to come bother you." He winks, leaning against a shelf, and he really doesn't have any business looking so carefree and handsome. He came here to check things out, not get checked out. Not that Henry is doing any checking out.

"Well, I wouldn't mind if you still come bother me. It's a nice break from the monotony. The catalogue could just help for when I'm wrong or not here."

"Alright, fine. I'm not sure how much help a search is going to be, though. I doubt there's a book called What to Make When You Invite Your Family to Your College Apartment to Tell Them You're Bi." He freezes for a second, and Henry knows all too well the sudden nerves, the tense moment of waiting for a reaction.

"If you find one, let me know. I'm sure I could adapt it for being gay," he says, and the other boy relaxes. When he looks up, his smile is back, and he follows Henry to a computer catalogue.

He comes down from the cookbook section nearly an hour later, three cookbooks in his arms. He's headed for the checkout, but he turns when he sees Henry with an empty cart.

"Hey, hi. I, um, well, I found a rainbow cookbook. I'll have to change the colors and things, but I thought maybe I could do something from that? Like a layer cake with a pride flag or something? I mean, I know they'll be okay with it. At least I think they will. My... my dad's pretty catholic, but we have a family friend who's gay and my dad's done a ton to look after and fight for him. We all love him. And my best friend is bi, and they've practically adopted her so it should be okay. I don't... I don't think it'll go badly, but... sorry. This isn't part of your job."

"I don't mind. You're making a cake with a pride flag; what else are you going to make? Would it help to talk it through?"

"Sure. Yeah. I'm thinking elote, since we made that a lot growing up, and one of these has a recipe for doing it on a stovetop instead of a grill. And then I was thinking ribs, but I don't have a grill, so I thought instead I'd make some pulled pork? It's got that barbecue thing that'll go well with the elote, and it's really easy to make a lot, so I can just tell everyone at once and get it over with. And if there's extra I can freeze it."

"I think it sounds good, and it sounds like they'll be happy to support you. I can tell they mean a lot to you; you're lucky to have them. You'll have to let me know how it goes if we bump into each other again."

"I will, yeah. Thank you. You've been wonderful."

"Good luck."

The other boy smiles and goes to check out, and Henry takes his cart back to the staff room, hoping he'll get an update soon.

-

On Monday, the other boy is back, and he comes up to Henry with a giant grin.

"It went well! It was so good. My mom got a bunch of brochures about staying safe, which was awkward but it's how she shows love, and my dad didn't care, and my sister won't stop trying to get me to join tinder so she can set me up with someone. They... they love me, and they don't care that I'm bi. It doesn't matter."

Henry grins. "I'm so happy for you. That's huge."

"Thank you so much for everything. Seriously, talking to you helped a lot."

"It was the least I could do."

"No, it-- I'm trying to say thank you; just let me."

"Alright."

"Thank you for letting me talk to you about coming out. Was that so hard? You're more important to people than you give yourself credit for. Anyway, I've got to run to a thing, but I wanted to stop in and see you. And update you. And thank you. You helped."

He's gone before Henry can respond, but he's surprised to realize he can't stop smiling for the rest of his shift.

-

Over the next few weeks, Henry sees and hears a lot of the things that happen in the library. He hears a little boy complain that there's loud noises in the library, and he hears the woman with that little boy explain that by yelling, he is the loud noise in the library. Henry sees a little girl falling asleep on a parent's lap as they read to her. He sees the handsome boy from before help a fourth grader through her math homework in a tutoring session and hears him talking to a little boy about Nancy Drew. He doesn't see everything, though. He doesn't see the mystery patron re-shelve some of the books that are out of order, making Henry's job easier. He doesn't hear the other boy call his sister on his way out to gush about the cute librarian he just saw teach a mom how to find Percy Jackson books so she could teach her son. What he does get used to seeing, though, is the same cute boy, settled at a table that Henry walks past regularly.

By the time midterms roll around, Henry's gotten used to seeing the other boy in the library. On the first day of midterms week, he's already there when Henry's shift starts. Henry, who has three essays due soon and only one started, plans to stay in the library when he gets off work. If he can't find any open tables, well, it must be due to midterms. He certainly didn't avoid looking in a few less popular places in order to justify going up to the table where his mystery patron is sitting. The other boy looks up with a smile.

"Do you mind if I sit? It's full everywhere else. I swear I'll be quiet; I've just got to draft an essay."

"Not at all. Here; let me slide some stuff over. What's your essay on?"

"Identity and fluidity in Virginia Woolf's Orlando. What are you working on?"

"A study guide for the politics of international economics."

"Sounds thrilling."

"What are you writing on? A book about Florida?" and god, Henry has to fight not to laugh just a bit.

"A book about Virginia Woolf's girlfriend."

"No way. Wasn't she like... old?"

"The 1920s aren't that old; we have examples of queer folks going back to the 400s BCE. Sappho's poetry would be in either the 200s or 808 if we have any, and tons of queer folks from Julie d'Aubigny to Alexander Hamilton are in biographies."

"Maybe later. Tell me about your essay; I can't study anymore."

"Okay, so, this book is a fake biography of a person named Orlando who, halfway through, changes from a man to a woman. I'm arguing that by using water to symbolize major change, Woolf signals to readers that their sex change isn't actually a big deal in their identity. Basically, every time Orlando gets a new opportunity or something else major happens, there's water involved somehow. But when their sex changes, which at first glance is the most drastic thing that happens to them, there's no water anywhere. In fact, there's fire, and that fire is mentioned a few different times. So I'm arguing that this shows readers that gender doesn't actually have that much impact on who someone is, but it's instead just how we present to the world. Therefore, it shouldn't matter if Virginia's in love with a woman, because Vita's just another human, and this whole thing is just a massive love letter to Vita and also a screw you to everyone else, because they all knew it was about Vita and Virginia didn't care."

"Wait, people knew? People knew they were lesbians."

"Well, they were probably both bi, and Virginia was probably demi-romantic, but it's not fair to put labels on them because all of those terms are more modern than these women. But yes, people knew they were dating. Vita's mom complained that Virginia stole her daughter."

"That's incredible,"

"Portrait of a Marriage by Nigel nicholson, Vita's son, is probably upstairs in biographies. Chapter five especially goes into detail on their open relationships."

The other boy laughs at that, throwing his whole body back as he does. He has the weight of five midterms on his shoulders, but for the duration of that laugh, he is happy and free and light as a feather.

"You're amazing. I'll let you write your essay, but just know. You're incredible."

Henry pulls out his laptop and opens the file for his essay, but it's a good five minutes before he can start to actually write anything. When he's finished, he nearly asks the other boy to get dinner with him. He doesn't; he can't. He's not confident enough. Instead, he just wishes the other boy good luck on his test as he says goodbye.

-

When Henry gets to work on Wednesday, it doesn't look like his patron has moved. When Henry gets a bit of a break, he texts Pez, who responds immediately with a series of emojis. The man is an enigma, but fifteen minutes later, he's arrived with two of the cookies Henry made them the night before. Henry takes them to the table where his favorite patron sits, the eye of a storm of notes, highlighters, empty coffee cups, and granola bar wrappers.

"Hello. Sorry to bother you, but you look like you could use these," Henry says, setting the cookies on the table as he passes.

"What... thank you! Thanks."

Henry is gone before the other boy can say more, his face going red. He doesn't see the little smile that spreads across the other boy's face or the way his whole body relaxes as he bites into the first cookie. When he passes the table again, though, he does see an empty bag and a somewhat refreshed patron.

-

As midterms pass and life settles down a bit, the table where his patron sits starts to be empty occasionally. Henry tries not to miss the boy who used to sit there, surrounded by clutter and wearing adorable glasses. He must have other things happening, a life outside of class work and study sessions. Still, it's a bright spot in Henry's day to see the familiar backpack in a chair, even without his patron at the table.

He finds his patron a few minutes later, or more accurately, his patron finds him.

"Excuse me, hi. Do you happen to have any books about how to ask out the hot librarian who's super smart and puts up with my constant nagging and helped me come out to my family and brought me cookies during midterms?"

Henry freezes, then says, "If we did, I would assume the first suggestion would be to tell this person your name." He's doing his best to stay calm, but the other boy isn't making it easy. He's leaning against a bookshelf, casually, like asking to date another boy in a public place is the easiest thing in the world.

"Did I not... fuck, I-- I'm Alex. Alexander Claremont-Diaz. Sorry. Shit. Yours is on your nametag and I just kinda assumed we... sorry."

"Alex, it's nice to meet you. I'm Henry. Back to your question, if we had such a book, I would assume it would also suggest waiting until the person you want to ask out is off work. But, when he's not on the clock and can be his own person, you shouldn't have any problem. You're smart, and you're nice, and you're good looking."

"You think?"

"I do. And you didn't ask, but I get off at six, and I don't have dinner plans."

With that, Henry finishes sorting his cart and walks away to shelve it, leaving Alexander Claremont-Diaz, mystery patron, grinning behind him.

On AO3

Notes: 

To my knowledge as someone who's worked at a library for a month, the Dewey decimal numbers in this are accurate. 306 is definitely gay books, and that'll be the case at any library that uses this system. Also, the fiction books mentioned are all real and queer. Especially Orlando. - Speaking of Orlando, read it! It's so good! I'm working on the play (adapted by Sarah Ruhl, who's incredible) and I'm in love with it.

[hookedontaronfics]

Aber Girl series - Friday

Title: Aber Girl - Friday Part 1 of 3 Rating: T Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Cursing and alcohol use A/N: Could one weekend really change a heart? A Triple Shot [3-part] series. Plenty of cute fluffy Taron to come in Parts 2 and 3. I hope you enjoy! x

“Morgan!” I jumped at the sound of my name being yelled across the bookstore, nearly dropping the book I had in my hand. I quickly put it on the shelf where it belonged before clambering down the stepladder I’d been standing on.

“Yeah, what do you need?” I asked a bit tersely as I crossed the shop floor, picking up a couple books customers had abandoned. Really, why couldn’t my boss walk across the store and speak to me in a normal voice? It irritated me to no end.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, looking a bit frazzled behind the boxes she was unloading. Fridays were our normal shipment days, and we’d been bombarded with merchandise for the holidays, which were fast approaching.

“I was just in the poetry department, you know, getting lit,” I replied. Okay, maybe I should have been slightly less sarcastic to my boss, but she didn’t even seem to notice or appreciate my amazingly witty pun. I made a mental note to Tweet that out later.

“When you’re done with that, I could really use your help upstairs in secondhand,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face. “And don’t forget I’m leaving early, so you’ll be closing up shop by yourself tonight.”

“Yeah, no skin off my elbow,” I said cheekily. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before. I returned to my work, shelving, organizing and straightening books, trying to make the store look as welcoming and shoppable as possible. Despite the busy-work nature of the job, I actually did enjoy being surrounded by books all day. I helped the few customers that filtered in, mostly college kids and families, find what they were looking for, and once my boss left I had the place to myself.

The last two hours of my shift dragged on a bit, and I ended up spending some time just surfing the internet, daydreaming about moving to Cardiff. Or London. Or even further away. Don’t get me wrong, growing up in Aberystwyth had its perks. Sure, the town was small, but it was also pretty. We had the mountains to our north and the coast right in front of us. You could take the Cliff Railway all the way up the hillside and it gave the best views of the area. I’d spent many a summer evening there with my mates and a 6-pack. I loved the place, but I saw very little opportunity here. Even after I’d enrolled in classes at the uni and earned my degree, I felt stuck in a way that made me feel sick to my stomach. Working at Ystywth Books for the rest of my life wasn’t the plan I had in mind.

About 10 minutes before close, I was finishing my duties since no one else was in the store when the bell above the door dinged. A blast of cold air blew in, making me instantly shiver despite the sweater I was wearing over my jumper and winter tights. I only saw the back of the person who walked in, as they disappeared around a bookshelf corner quickly. “I’m closing in a few minutes!” I hollered out, hoping they wouldn’t be obnoxious about it. I’d already had plans to meet up with some mates at the pub just after my shift.

“I’ll only be a minute,” the voice called back, cheerily enough. Hmmm, mostly British, slightly Welsh. Likely someone who used to live here and was visiting, I thought to myself. We had a lot of international students at the university, so I always tried to make it a game of guessing their nationality based on their accent.

I grabbed a stack of books off the counter to reshelve, since I now had to occupy my time for a couple more minutes, popping into different sections and moving about the store with ease. I could have probably walked this floor blindfolded, and in an admittedly stupid effort to prove it to myself, I closed my eyes and swung around a corner, running smack into the customer, who shouted “Hey!” and then “Are you alright?” after I’d tripped and then tumbled unceremoniously to the ground, my books flying every which way.

“Yeah,” I grunted, wincing slightly as there was a sharp pain in my arm. “Shit,” I breathed out, gripping my arm to my chest and only noticing the customer’s nice shoes and tight jeans. To my credit, I was in a lot of pain.

“That… doesn’t look like okay,” he said, crouching down to eye level with me. I nearly laughed as I wondered how he hadn’t split his pants just now, but then I had to squeeze my eyes shut as a groan of pain escaped my lungs. My arm was already throbbing, and I was trying to ignore the tears that had sprung into the corners of my eyes.

“Fuck, you’re hurt. I’ll call the medics,” he said, pulling out his phone to do so.

“I can’t bloody afford that,” I cursed, finally looking up at him and sucking in my breath sharply. My customer was none other than Taron Egerton, the so-called town “hero.” I was a couple of years younger, but my brother had been in Taron’s class and all I’d heard my whole entire life was how amazing he was, how he was “going places.” He’d managed to get out of Aber and build a successful career for himself and left the rest of us behind, and it annoyed me to no end that everyone constantly fell all over themselves for him. He was decent-looking enough, but I’d seen better. Not only that, he hadn’t made a name for himself in Aber, or for that matter stayed here and tried to help anyone else. How honestly special could you be if you’d fled to the big city and not ever looked back?

“I’ve still got two legs that work. I’ll just walk,” I said pragmatically, dropping my eyes back to his shoelaces in case he got the wrong idea.

“Are you kidding me? You’re clearly hurt, it’s feezing and snowing out, and I can’t in good conscience let you do that,” he replied, a bit self-righteously if you ask me. What was he trying to do, be my hero? As if it wasn’t good enough to be the town’s? I didn’t need one, thank you very much, and if he hadn’t walked in 10 minutes before close this whole situation probably wouldn’t even be happening. I was hurting, annoyed and still needing to close the store.

“Fine then, call me a cab,” I said, awkwardly pushing myself up to my feet with my good hand and steadying myself against the bookshelf, ignoring the hand he offered to help. I tugged my sleeve up a bit and my eyes watered some more as I noticed the bruising already starting to show. I hastily wiped at my face and sniffed. I was not about the cry in front of this guy.

“I’ll drive you myself,” he replied, concern written all over his stupid face. I groaned inwardly at that, but I knew I couldn’t ignore my arm. I needed a doctor, and I didn’t have a car myself, usually just borrowing my parents’ when I needed to go somewhere long-distance.

“Fine, but you’ll have to wait a moment while I close the store,” I conceded, whatever he’d come in to get clearly forgotten. He annoyingly tailed me around the store, trying to help and mostly getting in my way. I counted out the drawer money as best I could, closed the accounting books, and made sure all the lights were off and the place secured.

I had to drape my winter coat around my shoulder, as my arm was too hurt to try and wrangle it into the sleeve, and after trying to one-handedly zip it up around myself, I finally acquiesced to Taron’s help, standing there awkwardly as he carefully zipped my coat up to my neck. I followed him out into the swirling night, locking the door behind me as snowflakes landed on my eyelashes and cheeks. It was a bitterly cold evening as we crunched across the parking lot to his car. At least it was still warm inside as I awkwardly fell into the seat. I didn’t bother with the seatbelt, as we weren’t actually going that far.

He drove me over to Bronglais General, being careful as the roads were already coated. I noted that he’d been listening to Bowie, and at least I could appreciate his musical taste. But that was only one point toward his favor in a long list against. He parked and we hustled inside, shaking the snow from our hair and clothes. I got checked in and had a small wait, so I took a seat in the lobby, and much to my chagrin, Taron sat down next to me.

“You don’t need to stay here with me. I’m sure you’ve better things to do,” I said, as I slowly tapped out a text to my friends that I was going to be a bit late to the pub.

“I remember you,” he said quietly, and I didn’t respond for a moment. If that was supposed to impress me, well, it really didn’t. “You’re Declan’s younger sister,” he pressed on. Dammit if he wasn’t persistent, but that still didn’t earn him any points.

“Yeah, it’s Morgan, and what you and your mates did to my brother, it’s not been forgotten, okay?” I replied angrily, not even sure where the sudden heat in my face had come from. “And I don’t need your help.”

He hung his head a bit, but I had zero sympathy. “That was a long time ago. And I’ve apologized to him, a lot,” he replied, his ears growing a bit red.

“You may have the whole world eating out of the palm of your hand, but I’m not one of them,” I said in a huff. Thankfully, my name was called just then. I stood up abruptly and turned to him. “Please don’t be here when I come back,” I added before stalking off after the nurse, ignoring the pained look on his face. Thinking about Taron as anyone other than the person who had helped bully my brother out of the theater would get me into nothing but a world of hurt.

The hospital staff was nothing but kind as they took my vitals, ushered me through X-rays and did their best to not keep me waiting unnecessarily. I had indeed broken my arm, although it was a clean break and I was relieved that I wouldn’t need surgery, as this visit alone was going to drain the meager savings I had in my bank account. Once my arm was bound in the cast and a sling, the nurse helped me back into my coat [believe me, this was an embarrassing thing] and I returned to the lobby. 

I was half-worried Taron would still be waiting there, his puppy-dog eyes trying to draw sympathy from me, but the lobby was empty of his presence. That somehow didn’t actually make me feel any better, and I worried for a moment that I had been a complete arse to him when all he’d done was try to help me earlier, but I quickly shoved that feeling down deep.

I called myself a cab and waited impatiently, hopping from one foot to the next in an attempt to distract myself from both the dull ache in my arm and the pain in my chest that running into Taron had reawakened. It was possible, in that moment, that maybe I even hated him a little bit. A little sister shouldn’t have to be the one consoling her older brother or reminding him that there was more to the world than Penglais. My phone dinged to let me know my cab had arrived, and I rushed back out into the cold, ready to get to the pub and drown my sorrows with my friends and a hefty draught.

The snow had let up a bit, and I had to admit it was actually quite pretty out, the light cast from the streetlamps making the untouched snow glitter. I never said Aber didn’t have its moments. I paid my fare and hustled inside when the taxi pulled up outside Kanes, happily taking the seat my mates had saved for me. The table was already littered with half-gone appetizers, and I helped myself to them after ordering a beer.

“I see your klutz streak strikes again,” Andreyah teased me as I shed my coat. We’d known each other since we were both in nappies, and had lived on the same block most of our lives. In fact, Andreyah had gotten me through most of the scrapes - physical and otherwise - in my life, and there had been many. Everyone else at the table, Cliff, June, Rosie and Ace, had come into my life at various points and for various reasons, but we’d all ended up at uni together and were inseparable now.

“What even happened?” Rosie asked curiously.

“I haven’t had enough alcohol for this one yet,” I laughed, taking a long and impressive draft of my beer, Cliff whistling in admiration until I flipped him off.

“Always classy,” June grinned as I slammed my half-empty glass on the table, the beer sloshing against the sides.

I took a deep breath, gathered up the edges of my courage, and blurted out “I ran into Taron,” not even needing to say his last name for my mates to know exactly who I was talking about. Two of them sighed adoringly (much to my annoyance), three of them sounded indignant on my behalf. “Like, quite literally. He came into the store and I tripped over his stupid feet,” I explained, leaving out the part where I’d been doing something incredibly dumb in the process. “It’s been a shitty night so far.”

“I’d expect no less from him,” Ace said, nearly spitting out the last word. He had known my brother well too. In fact, most of the families in Aber knew each other or were at least friendly in passing.

“But I’m sure it was just an accident,” Rosie replied, being both more logical and also more sympathetic to Taron’s cause. We’d long ago agreed to disagree on that one.

“Oh of course, but he tried to help me by mostly getting in my way and even acted like it was a big deal that he remembered who I was,” I said, rolling my eyes and feeling the alcohol start to hit me, lowering my inhibitions. “What a serious wanker.”

My mates started to debate this, offering both their support of me [that’s true friendship, right there] or their insistence that Taron wasn’t as awful as I believed him to be. Eventually the conversation drifted to other topics, and we ate and drank more and I ended up having a great time. Nothing a little group therapy couldn’t fix, I thought. It helped take the edge off my emotions over the evening, but eventually I had to call it a night, as I had an early bookstore shift the next morning.

Hugs ensued, Andreyah helped me back into my winter coat [seriously, this was beginning to make me feel like a toddler], and then offered to drive me home. I could have walked from there and had plenty of times before, but it had gotten even colder while we were in the pub so I didn’t turn her down.

“So really, tell me what actually happened,” she said as soon as we were safely tucked into her little Fiesta.

“That was mostly the truth!” I laughed indignantly, but filled her in on other details I hadn’t shared with the group. She listened quietly, letting me rant a bit.

“Aren’t you being a little ... unfair?” she asked as she pulled into the driveway.

“Are you kidding me?” I scoffed, but she fixed me with that trademark pout she used when I was being unreasonable.

“He was 15, Mori,” she said, using the nickname she’d given to me when we could barely even put three words together. “People change. You have to allow them that.” I snorted, but she continued talking. “From what you said, it sounds like he’s been trying to make amends. Maybe you should talk to your brother. Maybe you’re holding onto anger Declan’s long already let go of.”

“You know, sometimes you make way too much sense and it really pisses me off,” I huffed, just making her laugh.

“Oh Mori. I love you, but you’re stubborn as hell. Maybe let it go a little, yeah? What would be the harm?” she asked, watching me as I pressed my fingers against my temple and then rubbed them over my eyes.

“Yeah I’ll think about it,” I said, fully intending to not give Taron a second more of my time.

“Hey, get some sleep, alright? I’ll bring you a coffee tomorrow while you’re at work,” she grinned.

“You are a saint and a scholar,” I grinned back. We gave each other an awkward car hug before I got out, shut the door and waved to her obnoxiously until I got to the front door. I let myself in and found my mom and dad had already gone to sleep, which was just fine with me. I was too tired and sore to try and explain everything that night. I went to my room and got myself ready for bed before crawling in under the covers.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but my brain kept insisting that I run over the events of the day. I tossed and turned a bit, but every time I opened my eyes, I could see Taron’s wounded expression in the shadows. Try as I might to avoid it, he’d gotten under my skin again, and I was confused by the emotions I was feeling. I hated admitting maybe Andreyah was right. I’d been so young back then, we all had been, and I had only ever gotten Declan’s version of events. The truth of that made my face flush with shame, but old grudges tend to die hard. Finally exhausted by my work shift, my injury and my upsetting emotions, I drifted off into a fitful, uneasy sleep.

Aber Girl continues on Saturday! Coming Soon