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“Thank you, Spencer.” Mr. Dudley nods, even more gravely. Then he adds, “Your presence is my present,” and I can’t help wondering if he’s ever been invited to a birthday party.
He checks his watch and sucks in a breath so big I’m afraid he used up all the oxygen. When he exhales, I can almost taste his lunch. It was a meatball sub. Pretty sure.
“Is something else wrong?” I ask, covering my mouth. Now I’m extra squeamish.
“I’ve got to get to story time!” he exclaims. Kayla and I watch as he spins on a heel and hurries toward the children’s wing.
“That should be fun,” Kayla says. Then she turns back toward her computer. Is she talking about being Mr. Dudley’s wingman? Archie breaking up library unusualness? The mayor’s pantsuits? Story time? At least this is something we can talk about. But before I can clarify her idea offun, my phone vibrates in the top drawer.
A text.
We’re not supposed to use our phones unless we’re in the employee break room, but these days, between three jobs, my breaks are few and far between. I’m not ready to completely blow off the rules, but I feel like I can bend this one a little. Push the envelope. Stretch my boundaries.
Maybe it’s time to redefineSpencer.
So I look across the library to confirm that Mr. Dudley is busy with Lucy in the children’s wing, then I slowly slide open the top drawer. My phone is in the organizer next to slots for scissors, highlighter pens, and a full bottle of White Out, because correction fluid is man’s second best friendafter a dog. And there, still glowing on the screen, is the beginning of a new text. It’s the worst kind of teaser for the rest of the message which I can’t see.
MESS: I talked to Kayla today, and she’s into you so …
That’s it? Oh, man, Tess. What have you done?
I stand there blinking down at my phone, challenging myself toredefine Spencer.Can I really blow off the rules by pulling my phone out to read the rest of the text?
Yes. Yes, you can. Come on, Spencer. It’s for a good cause.
Hearts are hanging in the balance, and all that.
You’ve got to find out what Tess said.
I look up to check that the coast is still clear and spot Mrs. Henderson—the crankiest patron of our library—storming toward the reference desk. She’s wearing a floral housecoat and a head full of curlers. In her arms she’s balancing a stack of books. Since Kayla is weirdly focused on her screen again, Mrs. Henderson makes a beeline for me. That’s what I get for checking my phone.
Rules exist for a reason, Spencer.
“How can I help you, Mrs. Henderson?”
“I’ve had seven books on hold for MONTHS, and they all came in at the same time! SEVEN!” She fumes at me over the book on top of the stack. It’s titledUnleash Your Inner Joy. “What kind of lunatic can read seven books in the next two weeks?”
Hmm. Well, I can. But I assume her question is rhetorical.
Normally, I’d tell Mrs. Henderson she’s welcome to put six of the books back on hold and wait until they’re ready again, but then she would fuss at me for the next fifteen minutes. And although handling fussy patrons is my specialty, I want to get back to Tess’s text.
So without another word, I click into Mrs. Henderson’s account and change the due dates on all seven books. Then I nudge my glasses up and whisper, “I just gave you six more weeks.” I hold a finger up to my lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Instead of thanking me, Mrs. Henderson frowns. She was probably looking forward to an argument. So I dart my eyes at the circulation desk. “A few of those books are pretty popular,” I tell her. “If I were you …” I cock an eyebrow. “I’d check them out quick and get out while you can.”
Mrs. Henderson glances at Kayla, then back to me. “I don’t know what you’re up to today, but do NOT let this happen again!”
“You have my word,” I say, seriously, although I probably can’t promise Mrs. Henderson that. While she scurries off toward the circulation desk, Kayla turns to me and raises an eyebrow.
“That was out of character,” she says.Tell me about it.
“It was … all the curlers,” I say. “They threw me off.” Kayla shakes her head. She’s doubtful—which she should be—but she’s also a dependable worker. So she gives up trying to figure me out and shifts her focus back to her computer.
At least now I can check Tess’s text.
I dip my hand into the drawer and tap my phone screen, opening the text.
MESS:I talked to Kayla today, and she’s into you, so she’s coming to Movie Night. Wear something cute. Like that blue shirt you had on at the coffee house.
“Everything okay?” Kayla asks, and I slam the drawer shut, nearly crushing my fingers.
“Yeah.” My face flames like the bottom of a frying pan. “Just … something I wasn’t expecting.”
Kayla nods. “You don’t do unexpected very well, do you?”
Oh, Kayla. You have no idea.
