P r o l o g u e !
(Savannah’s Point Of View.)
“I’m heading off to the library,” I called out to my
mother. She looked shocked that I even knew what a
library was. Gee, thanks mom.
“You’re going to the library? You mean the place with
books?” she questioned, her eyebrows rising slightly.
I let out a chuckle before nodding.
“Yes, Mom. That’s the one; I need a book for a
report. If I don’t get it, I’m definitely failing,” I replied.
“Okay, well, have fun,” my mother snorted. The
amusement was clear on her face. Her dark brown
hair, something I inherited, was tied back into a
messy bun and she had on a large t-shirt and
I waved at her before getting into my car, a black
Jeep Grand Cherokee that I worked so hard for. My
parents had chipped in for it, too but I managed to
get my half of it. It was way better than sharing a car
with my older brother Jeremiah.
Speaking of the idiot, we had gotten into a fight this
morning. I scowled at the memory before pulling
into the parking lot of the library. It was empty aside
from a few cars. Whistling and twirling my keys
around my index finger, I walked over to the
entrance, opening the door and allowing the warm
air to fan over me as I walked to the counter.
“I’m Beverly, how may I help you?” a blonde girl
squealed. I smiled at her, automatically sensing that
she was one of those girls that is too nice for her
own good. Not because she’s blonde, but because
she seems like she cares about other people’s
opinions more than she does about her own I bet
more people walk all over her than they do to the
library’s welcome mat. That’s sad, really.
“I’m just looking for a book on Adolf Hitler,” I
casually spoke, leaning on the counter. She clacked
away on the keyboard, scanning the computer
I adjusted my glasses on my nose. Don’t let my
appearance fool you; I am no nerd, if that’s what
you’re assuming. Unfortunately, in 8th grade, I spent
so much time playing video games that my vision
went to crap and I was prescribed glasses. There is
no way I’m sticking a contact on my finger and
stabbing myself in the eye with it. Besides, I have
really sensitive eyes and they water a lot. My finger
won’t even reach my eye and I’m blinking and my
eye is creating it’s own Niagra Falls.
“It’s in the fourth row, on the second shelf,” she
smiled cheerfully as she pointed in the direction of
the shelf. I nodded, muttering a ‘thank you’ as I
shuffled across the tiled floor.
The library was nice and I don’t know why I don’t
spend more time here. Ha, who am I kidding? Sure,
the library’s nice, but I’m not one to spend my time
with my face buried in a book. I’d rather be at home,
playing video games or sitting on my bed with my
laptop placed on my lap. Or at the mall, watching hot
guys shop and laugh with their friends. Or even out
somewhere, maybe with my family, or my friend
I looked up and noticed that the ceiling was high and
that the library had a second floor, or at least a
wraparound balcony with glass windows and
couches for you to read on, I’m guessing. I noticed a
sign for Free Wi-Fi and I raised an eyebrow with a
slow nod. Maybe I could spend my time here.
When I reached the fourth row, I heard the door
opening. Or at least I think it was the door, this was
my first or second time being in the library for my
whole 16, soon to be 17, years of being alive.
“I’m Beverly, how may I help you?” the lady at the
front desk’s voice echoed throughout the lonely
library. Yeah, I was right. That was the door.
Someone else was here. It was probably an old lady
coming to return a book that she’d checked out in
1975. Instead of an old, fragile voice responding, it
was a guy’s. He didn’t sound too old; it didn’t have
that wise ring to it.
I made my way to a table, opening one of several
books about Hitler that I’d grabbed from the shelf. I
started reading one and surprisingly, it was
I heard whispering and I didn’t bother looking up, it
was probably the guy and Beverly. He most likely
didn’t have a sense of direction. If he did, there’s no
way he’d be here. No one comes to the library
anymore, mainly because whatever you need to
know, you can look up on your phone or your
computer. I don’t even know why I’m here. Oh wait,
yes I do; I don’t have a library card so I can’t check
out any books; I should have just went to a
bookstore and bought the darned book.
I heard shoes walking across the tile floor. When
they stopped a few feet away from me, I came out
of the trance that I was in while I was reading. I
heard the chair across from me screech out. It
echoed loudly as I looked up.
I raised an eyebrow at the sight. A guy was standing
there with black hair and coffee colored eyes. He had
a smirk present on his face and he was wearing a
blue flannel shirt that he left unbuttoned; it revealed a
gray shirt underneath it.
“What?” I asked him, already annoyed with his
presence. This surprised him but he still had that
smirk on. His aura was enough to tell me, ‘player,’ or
something along those lines. I guess I’m good at
“Well, I’m here. What are your other two wishes?”
he asked and I narrowed my eyes at him, taken by
“For Channing Tatum, and then for you to go back to
where you came from,” I retorted.
“Your eyes are like the ocean, and I think I’m lost at
sea,” he stated. I was confused. My eyes
are brown. Is this idiot colorblind?
“My eyes are brown, moron,” I retorted. I know it’s
not kind or polite to insult strangers but I can’t help it.
“Can I take a picture of you? I want to show Santa
Claus exactly what I want for Christmas,” he
continued, leaning in slightly. I leaned away,
confused as to why this guy is even talking to me.
“Can I take a picture of you? I want to show the
police exactly who I’m filing a restraining order
against,” I snapped.
“How was Heaven when you left it?” he persisted,
starting to creep me out.
“When I left I didn’t have any proof that God had a
sense of humor, now I’ve found it,” I barked.
“Don’t you need a license to be that good looking?”
he pushed, eyes glinting. For whatever reason, I was
having an intense stare off and verbal battle with this
“Don’t you need a license to be that ugly?” I spat. He
raised an eyebrow before continuing.
“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” he asked.
“No, but it hurt when I crawled up from Hell,” I
“Do you have a Band-Aid? I just scraped my knee
falling for you,” the nameless guy replied, unwilling
to give up. This is a battle I’m not willing to lose.
“No, but I have some salt,” I snorted. Who knew
you’d get into conversations this amusing at the
“Did you have lucky charms for breakfast? Because
you look magically delicious,” he winked jokingly.
“No, I had a bowl of nails… without any milk,” I
“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?”
he leaned forward.
“Nothing, I can’t laugh and talk at the same time,” I
spoke, raising an eyebrow.
“Do you think it was fate that brought us together?”
he inquired, his coffee colored eyes swirling.
“Nope, it was just plain bad luck,” I replied before he
“If you were a stop light, I’d turn red every time you
passed by, just so I could stare at you a bit longer,”
he ran a hand through his dark locks.
“Red lights are the only things I run,” I countered. I
turned my gaze towards my phone which sat on the
table beside the book. It was already 7:35 and the
library was closing at 8. Curse the weekday schedule
and my procrastination problem.
“If you give me your number, I’ll leave,” he told me.
I eyed him, narrowing my eyes. I weighed my
options. I really need to finish this paper.
“Fine,” I replied, ripping a sheet of paper out of my
notebook. I scribbled my brother’s phone number
onto it. It’ll serve my brother right and it’ll get this kid
off of my back.
“I’ll call you,” he replied, standing up and walking
over to a guy leaning casually against the wall
opposite to the counter, talking to Beverly with a
smirk on his face.
“Don’t count on me answering,” I honestly said,
getting back to work on my essay. Like I needed a