AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Damn it to the archives of hell. I was having such a good day.
“I’m working, Joshua. If it’s not library-related—”
“Please.” He stretches his hand even further, almost as if he’s going to grab mine. That would be a disaster, seeing as how I’m carefully pinching delicately cut snowflakes I spent my entire shift on the circulation desk creating.
“Fine. Wait.” Gone is my people-pleaser tone, and from the way Joshua frowns at me, I can tell he misses it. Yes, well, showing up in the middle of my work day to demand my attention about a personal issue is not the way to get Happy Summer.
Carefully, I step down from the ladder, keeping my balance on my own rather than accepting help from Joshua.
“I want—”
“Not here.” Now it’s my turn to cut him off. “This is my place of work.” Without checking to see if he’s following, I stroll across the reading room to the reference desk.
“I’m going to take my fifteen-minute break, Aliyah. Can I leave these with you?”
The middle aged woman stares up at me in surprise, pushing aside her curly hair as she nods.
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
Her shock is understandable. Everyone who works an eight-hour day is due a sixty-minute lunch break and a fifteen-minute break in the first and second half of our shifts.
However, while I’m pretty good about claiming some time to eat and get a breath of fresh air, I have never bothered with the shorter breaks. What’s the point? That amount of time is perfect for a smoker maybe, but what am I going to do for fifteen minutes?
Apparently, re-break up with a guy I barely started dating. I’m sure that’s what HR had in mind for these fifteen minutes.
Walking outside, I discover the sun has sunk below the horizon, even though we’re just past five p.m. The darkness of the evening causes a shiver of apprehension to trickle down my spine, and I make sure to choose a bench bathed in the light from the library’s front windows.
Joshua sits beside me, closer than I would have preferred, but at least he’s not touching me without my permission.
“Okay. You have my attention.” I shift my body to face his while still keeping air between us.
“You ended things without letting me say my piece.”
Deciding whether or not to go out with someone is not a debate, I want to point out.
“Fine. Say your piece.”
“You’re being very short with me.”
“If that’s your piece, then I have work to get back to.” I go to rise but he places a hand on my shoulder.
“Wait. I’m sorry. You’re right. Please, just let me ask you something.”
I try not to sigh too loudly as I settle back on the bench.
“And that is?”
“Why did you end things?”
This question strikes me as willfully ignorant. It’s not like I ghosted Joshua. When he texted me about going out again this weekend, I called him to thank him for the dates we had gone on, but also to say I didn’t find myself interested in continuing things. True, I left this all on his voicemail, but does two dates require more than that?
Not in my book.
“Like I said in my message, you’re a nice guy, but I think I should feel more if I want to be romantic with someone.”
And bymore, I meananything.
