Table for Two

Hey! Reagan here, and I'm proud to present the first piece of work on this account. We hope to get even more out really soon - enjoy!

As Reyna walks into the student library, her cheeks still flushed from track practice and her hair still damp from the subsequent hurried shower, she sighs inwardly. As she suspected, the tables are all full already. She had run all the way back from track practice (aching thighs, tight calves, and all), and rushed through a five-minute shower, all in hopes of getting a seat at a table in the always-crowded, finals-season library – and of course, with her luck, none of it had mattered.

It can’t hurt to look around, though, just to make sure that the table fairies aren’t just holding out on her. So Reyna makes her way through the stacks, winding around tables with the greatest stealth she can manage and doing her best to ignore the pointed glares of students when she accidentally bumps against a chair or two.

Who put a stick up their ass? she thinks sullenly, as yet another freshman scowls up at her for no reason at all as she walks by. I will, if they don’t quit it with the staring. Yo, calm your shit, pipsqueak!

 Finally coming to the very back of the library, the very dregs of the literary repository, Reyna is about to give up. But then, like light at the end of a tunnel, she glimpses the edge of a very clean, and very empty-looking table. She breathes a sigh of relief and makes her way towards it, before stopping short at the edge of a shelf.

The table isn’t quite as empty as she had thought. There’s another girl there, either asleep or having some sort of academia-induced mental breakdown. But then, as a math major, Reyna knows breakdowns, and this girl’s breathing is much to even to be going through one of them – at least, not in the way Reyna’s used to. She’s asleep, then.

Hopefully she won’t mind sharing, thinks Reyna as she resumes her passage towards the table, which retains its status as a near-godsend despite its single occupant.  Reyna drops her bag and pulls out a chair, careful to make as little noise as possible – sleep is hard enough to come by at this time of year, and it’s not her place to deprive anyone of it.

However, as she sits down, she very nearly misses the chair, simultaneously slamming her hands on the table to catch herself and her tailbone on the sharp corner of the chair. Out of the corner of her eye as she twists around to rub her poor butt (muttering variations of “gods dammit” the entire time), Reyna sees the dark-haired girl shoot awake abruptly, pure aggression in her face.

Reyna snaps back around to apologize, but the minute the other girl sees Reyna’s face, her features soften uncertainly. They stare at each other awkwardly for a few moments, and Reyna takes the opportunity to study her. The girl has pale skin, dark hair, and strikingly electric blue eyes. This, combined with the girl’s leather jacket, ripped jeans, and heavy boots – covering what seems to be an Avenged Sevenfold tee shirt – would come across as intimidatingly emo if it weren’t for the cute sprinkling of dark freckles across her nose.

She is incredibly attractive, Reyna observes, and then feels her face flushing at the path her thoughts are taking. She notices that emo-girl’s face has gone slightly pink as well, adding marginal color to her cheeks and blending slightly with her freckles. Reyna clears her throat and looks hastily down at her hands

“I’m really sorry for waking you,” she mutters, bringing one hand up to rake through her messy ponytail – a habit she’s had since middle school.

“It-“ The girl’s voice cracks, “It’s no problem. I should’ve been studying anyway.”

 “Eh,” Reyna shrugs as she bends down to get some books from her bag (and to cover up another blush at the sound of the girl’s voice, which is still rough from sleep and sending shivers down Reyna’s spine). “Everyone needs a break.”

“You don’t ever seem to,” says the girl thoughtfully. “I mean – I see you in here a lot – I mean, whenever I’m here you seem to be here too – I mean-“

“I can’t really afford to,” Reyna smiles ruefully. "To take a break, I mean."

“No?” asks the girl, her nose scrunching up in incredulity. “What's your major?”

 “Math,” sighs Reyna, looking down at her notes for a moment before slamming her binder back shut. “And it’s not doing my sanity any favors.”

“Yikes,” mutters the girl. “I could never- I mean, I just – yikes. I used to be okay at math, until letters got involved… But after that, we were never the same.”

“Math only started making sense to me once the letters showed up,” replies Reyna. “I have dyscalculia.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” says the girl. She bites her lip thoughtfully for a moment, then says, "I have dyslexia. My name's Thalia, by the way." 

 “Oh- right,“ Reyna glances down at her array of notebooks for a moment. “I’m Reyna.”

“Reyna,” says Thalia, and Reyna likes the way it sounds coming out of her mouth. “Pretty name.”

“Not nearly as pretty as you – I mean, yours,” stutters Reyna, her eyes growing wide.

To Reyna’s horror, Thalia just winks at her with the beginnings of a smirk on her face and gets up to leave.

 “I’d better get going,” says Thalia, and as she passes behind Reyna, she bends down close and breathes, “See you around, sweetheart.”

Reyna’s eyes get even wider and for a second she thinks her face will catch fire. All she can do for several minutes is try to calm the churning of her stomach and the excessive brightness of her cheeks. By the time she recovers, Thalia is gone.

But, as Reyna’s fingers tentatively press against the spot where Thalia’s breath has left an imprint of warmth on the back of her neck, something tells her they’ll see each other again.