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And leans in. His knuckles touch my shoulder blades. I’m staring at the screen determinedly, but he shifts and then suddenly, he’s right there, his face hovering over my shoulder. He’s so close that I can feel his beard against my hair.
If I turned my head right now, I’d kiss him, I think.
I do not turn my head. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. I’ve already learned one lesson about reading Levi’s actions wrong, about thinking that we’re having a moment when he’s just being a gentleman.
I’m not used to gentlemen. I’m used to guys. Guys who text hey, wanna watch a movie at my place and think it counts as a date. Guys who think nothing of flaking on our plans at the last minute.
Levi points at the screen.
“I think it’s two words,” he says, his low voice close to my ear. A shiver runs through me. I swallow hard. “Is that an M?”
“It looks more like an H,” I offer, still not daring to move a muscle.
“Hmm,” he says.
He moves back, stands upright, pulls his chair up next to mine, his right hand never leaving the back of my chair. I breathe again, and then he sits next to me, leans in again. His forearm is against my upper back.
We’re both quiet for a long moment, studying the screen. Or, at least, I think Levi is studying it. I’m staring at it, repeating kid sister, kid sister, kid sister to myself.
“Homestead,” he suddenly says. “The second word is homestead.”
I lean toward the screen.
“I think you’re right,” I say.
“Morgan Homestead. That’s the first word. Morgan.”
“Where’s that?” I ask.
Of all the areas I’ve been noting down, this is a new one and at this point, I’ve gone through almost sixty years of records.
“I’m not sure,” he muses. He’s still close.
So, so close.
“What year are these?”
“1927,” I say.
“Then probably in the northern part, near Staunton,” he says, and finally he relaxes, pulls back, though his arm stays behind my back.
I finally look over at him, wait for an explanation. I’m getting used to his silences. I’m even using them myself.
“I’m afraid it’s sordid,” he says. “Back in 1925, there was a plan to make that part of the forest part of Shenandoah National Park instead of a national forest.”
His eyes search my face. My heart hammers, so loud in the quiet library that I’m afraid he can hear it.t
“And the federal government used eminent domain laws to remove several hundred people from their homes to make way for the park,” Levi says. “Some of them by force.”
“They did?” I say, and Levi shrugs, glances at the screen again.
“It’s not really well-known,” he says. “Especially since the land never became part of the park, the forest service hasn’t exactly wanted to publicize it.”
“That’s fucked up,” I say, and then his eyes are back on my face.
“It is,” he says. “Anyway, I’m betting Morgan Homestead is somewhere up there.”
“Which at least removes it from our purview, it being over a hundred miles and all,” I say.
“That it does.”
There’s a break, a pause. Silence. We’re still looking at each other, his arm slung around the back of my chair, his bare forearm touching my shirt.
I listen to the silence. Instead of opening my mouth and talking over it, I pay attention: the whoosh of the air conditioning, the low hum of the microfiche readers. My own heartbeat, thundering through my body.
For once, Levi breaks the silence.
“You’re thinking something,” he says, voice low, quiet, perfectly library-appropriate even though we’re alone in this basement.
“I’m wondering what other sordid secrets you’re keeping,” I say, my voice matching his.
“That wasn’t a secret,” he says. “It’s public knowledge if you know where to look.”
“Then what other public knowledge are you hiding that I don’t know?” I ask.
What do you have to figure out on your own, Levi?
“If I’m hiding anything it’s unintentional,” he says.
For one moment, his eyes flick to my lips. My heart pumps that much harder.
“I’ve already learned that trying to keep information from you is a fool’s errand, June.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. That’s what it was,” he says.
He’s closer now. I don’t know how it happened, but it has. My whole body is tense, strung tighter than a banjo, and I’m leaning in, toward. I didn’t mean to do it, but it’s happened and I am breathless with it.
Kid sister, I think. I’m reading this wrong again. I have to be.
“June,” Levi says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I lied.”
“About what?”
“That I don’t have a secret,” he goes on. “I’m afraid I do.”
I wait. I watch him, and I listen, and my heart hammers away in my chest. My knee is warm, and I suddenly realize that Levi’s hand is there, his heat soaking through the jeans I’m wearing. I don’t know how long he’s been touching me. I don’t know how I didn’t notice.
