Intern Three whispered to Intern Two, “Told you she had a home.”
I sipped my matcha as they continued to stare at me. Thesilence went on long enough for me to question every decision in my life that led to this moment.
I had gone to graduate school for this.
Intern One broke first. “You give off main character energy.”
I choked on my drink. Absolutely not. “No,” I said.
I had walked away from a dissertation defense because I decided I would never be ready. Main characters finished things. I edited them to death.
I took another slow sip of matcha and forced my shoulders down from around my ears.
“Well,” I said lightly. “Anyway.”
And because the universe had a thing for dramatic timing, thunder cracked hard enough to rattle the break room window.
The lights flickered.
All three interns looked at me.
I stared at the ceiling.
“If the building collapses,” I said calmly, “follow the emergency exit signs.”
Intern Two’s eyes widened. “Will you?—”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll handle it.”
Their relief was immediate and terrifying.
Fartie Artie, revered witch of the break room.
Whenever I fumbled a social interaction, my nickname from elementary school always cameback to taunt me.
I pushed open the door to the main floor.
A sudden blast of wind from outside rattled the windows hard enough to make one of the panes tremble. Three shelves over, a book fell and landed with a dull thud.
I froze. Told myself it was the storm. Of course it was the storm. This building tended to complain whenever the weather changed. Just then, my stomach growled loud enough to compete with the thunder.
Nutrition was often theoretical in my life. My thoughts drifted to Eloise, my next-door neighbor, who had probably baked something today. She baked when she was happy. Or worrying. Or when she thought I needed to eat something with carbs.
She claimed it helped her think, but I was starting to suspect she used it to manage my moods more than her own.
She never said anything about it. She just showed up, which now that I thought about it, felt…dangerous. And kind.
Eloise was the most unexpected gift in this whole move to be Head Librarian at this library with a rare books collection. I’d never thought my best friend would turn out to be a woman in her seventies, but she’d managed to teach me more in three months than anyone had taught me in my entire adult life.
Including how to let someone in. To let someone stay.
The thought eased some of the tightness in my chest. Going home to her kitchen light and whatever she pulled from the oven felt safe, even when the rest of my life felt like a manuscript with missing chapters.
I looked out across the dim library, and the shelves arranged in clean lines. The space had a kind of order I could breathe in.
I loved this place. I loved my job.
Which was an accomplishment for me. Loving things had always felt risky, but I was starting to let myself do it anyway. I was even considering getting a cat.
