Page 16 of Detour

I’m almost out the door when he insists, “You put down the apartment’s name but not the number. Boss is cracking down since you don’t live with a responsible adult anymore.” I mash my lips together, halting in the doorway. “Right? You live alone now, don’t you?”

A whoosh of air leaves my lungs as I spin to write out my address on the form. Without another word, I practically sprint from the office. Joe calls out to my back but in my haste, I can’t make out his words. It’s only when I’m safely in my Jeep that I realize what he said. “See you later, Angela.”

* * *

The library is closed. It’s the middle of the afternoon on a weekend and it’s closed. Because what else could go wrong today?

A sign on the door says it’s closed for a private event so cupping my hands around my face, I peer through the window to see what kind of occasion requires a library as its venue. All I see are books on books on books.

Then I see her. A bride swathed in a white form-fitting dress makes her way down the aisle between rows of overflowing bookshelves. A thin veil covers her face but does nothing to conceal how happy she is. She’s glowing.

Guests are interspersed amid stacks of books as if the fictional characters within the pages are witnesses themselves. Strands of white twinkling lights hang overhead as well as glowing paper lanterns. An old oak card catalog sits off to the side with greenery spilling out of open drawers. Flickering fake candles dot the top along with handmade signs displaying names written in calligraphy.

Slowly making her way to the groom, the bride passes flower arrangements made of pages that look like perfectly shaped literary blooms. Her petite train floats over what appears to be different colored date-stamped heart cut-outs dusting the aisle. There are so many small details highlighting the true beauty of books, I realize I’ve spent years overlooking just how magical libraries are. A place I’ve always taken for granted, this couple is making the focal point on one of the most important days of their lives. I make a vow of my own to come back another time when I don’t have an assignment due. A day to explore what this literary haven holds.

Having been in a few weddings myself, I can honestly say I’ve never seen such pure adoration as I do now when the couple faces each other at the altar. An energy that I swear I can feel from outside sizzles between them, one that was absent from all of my mom’s weddings. The groom wipes errant tears on his cheeks as discreetly as possible but I see it, as does his soon-to-be wife. She breaks into watery laughter herself reaching to dab them away with her sleeve pulled over her palm. The sweet gesture leaves me breathless. She adores him. It’s clear in the way she looks at him. Like he’s the one that taught her how to love to begin with. But he fucking worships her. Every move she makes, he counters it with one that puts him directly in her path. There’s nowhere she’ll go in this life without his full support.

A secret smile passes between them. An inside joke maybe. A silent promise perhaps. Either way, it’s private, too private for an interloper, and makes me drop my gaze. I’m filled with a jealousy so suppressing I almost drop to my knees.

The relationships I’ve watched over the years never held that. That deep understanding of one another. The kind where words aren’t even needed. The type of connection that splits one being in half right down the middle, allowing two separate individuals to take on life as partners in every sense of the word.

Glancing back up, they’re now hand-in-hand, clutching each other’s fingers like the last few minutes apart were torturous on them both. My face splits into a smile despite my melancholic state. Love is infectious. That love is transcendent. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever be fortunate enough to find someone like that. If I were to believe what my mother told me my entire life, then I’d say no.

Good thing I don’t listen to her anymore.

CHAPTER 10

Angela

Just knock.

All I have to do is knock. That’s it. Two little taps on a door that if I squint real hard, I can pretend is mine. But really, it’s less about the knock and more about what comes after the knock that has my hand limp at my side, refusing to participate in such a barbaric ritual like knocking on someone else’s door. It’s so aggressive when you think about it. Why don’t our apartments have doorbells anyway? Someone should complain. Like right now. I shouldn’t be here waffling in the hallway like a moron. I should be out fighting for doorbell equality. Those annoying chimes deserve a chance-

“Library closed?”

Coty holds his door open with one hand while the other rests against the doorjamb, a self-satisfied smile lining his face. He’s as flawless as he was this morning but he’s shed the hesitancy and in its place is triumph.

Hands twisting behind my back, I say, “Actually I was hoping I could get that cup of sugar from you now.”

I smother a laugh as his face falls.

“I don’t know if we even have any sugar. Shit.” He looks over his shoulder, debating, then back to me. “I’ll go get some.”

He reaches for a set of keys from their bar and I can’t hold back anymore. Laughter spills from my lips.

“I’m kidding.” His eyes snap to mine, confused. “If I needed sugar, I’d get it myself.” I watch amused as his face relaxes. “You were right though, the library’s closed today. Do you think I could, um,” the foreign words clog my throat. “I was wondering if-” I drop my eyes to my toes, watching them squirm in a similar rhythm as my insides.

“Come on in.” Coty widens the door with a knowing smile. “You can use my laptop. It’s charging right now so you’ll just have to sit at my desk, if that’s okay. Don’t worry, my room is clean for once. One of the benefits of having the place to myself for the day.” He winks as I duck past, careful not to touch him. Unfortunately, this causes me to slam my shoulder into the doorjamb on my way through giving me a massive Charlie horse. Hand clamped to the soon-to-be bruise, I turn to watch him close the door and head toward a hallway. He gestures for me to follow, which I do at a much slower pace while taking in the living room along the way. Coty continues talking while I look around the warm space. Warm as in homey. The whole apartment is actually freezing. I bring my other arm up to hug the one already wrapped across my chest trying to trap some body heat before it all leaks out. Holy shit. They must keep their air conditioning cranked around the clock. “I bet I can find one around here somewhere if you’d prefer the bed.”

Halting, I pin Coty with a glare, my arms falling stiffly to my sides. Coty, at his bedroom threshold, notices I’m not following and turns to face me. Realization dawns, making him double back. For every step he takes forward though, I take two back until he finally stops, sensing my retreat.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I swear. I just want you to be comfortable.” His eyes land on the kitchen and he points a finger at a drawer that doesn’t quite close all the way. “See? I’m almost positive there’s one in here.”

While he searches what must be their junk drawer, I slowly tread closer to the front door, palms sweaty despite the cold.

A zero on one assignment won’t sink my grade. I’ll still graduate with honors, easy. I repeat that mantra as I reach for the door handle.

“Found it.” Coty brandishes an extension cord proudly. My eyes widen before lifting to the ceiling. An extension cord. So I don’t have to sit at his desk while his laptop charges. I close my eyes briefly, filling my lungs on an inhale. As I open them again, ready to apologize, Coty says, “You know what? You can use the couch.” He gestures to the brown leather couch. Somewhat softer, he adds, “Make yourself at home and I’ll go grab it.”