Between the Stacks

Chapter 1

The fire was not my fault, despite what other people would tell you.

There was an art to herding children, and it was one I had yet to fully master. Someone like Lakshmi, the actual children's librarian, could calm the little terrors in a heartbeat. One time I saw her kneel down and explain to a child that books are meant to be read, not to be eaten. The little girl spat out the page she'd been chewing on, hugged Lakshmi, and trotted away to the puzzle table.

I was not Lakshmi. She had a dentist appointment that afternoon, leaving me as the supervising librarian at the Northern Ridge library branch. It was my first time having so much responsibility, and I was looking forward to proving myself. It was only my third month on the job.

"Don't set the place on fire while I'm gone!" she'd said as she left.

"Of course not!" I replied, blissfully ignorant of my rather flamey future.

Twelve children and their parents had signed up for the event. I was doing a double feature: Matthew Cherry's Hair Love and Robert Munsch's Stephanie's Ponytail. To get into the spirit, we encouraged all the participants to show up with wacky hair.

I'll admit I went a little overboard with my own hair to prove my dedication to the job. I tied the back half into a ponytail, and with the front half, I used bobby pins and a gross amount of hair gel to fashion it into a unicorn horn. I completed the outfit with a white tutu and a sparkling pink top.

It was a fashion statement of the century.

I finished setting up the bean bag chairs in the storytime room, which was lovingly decorated with an egregious amount of construction paper and Bristol board. I threw open the door, ready to greet the participants.

"Ms. Richards, why do you look weird?" Sarah Lynn asked.

Aghast, I watched as all of the children came in - none of them with wacky hair.

Sarah Lynn was one of our regulars; she and her father usually camped out on the purple bean bag chair right near the front. "Ms. Richards is a unicorn!" she cackled, spreading the word to the other kids as if this was the hottest gossip of the day.

I made eye contact with Wesley Takahashi, the librarian hovering near the door.

"Guess I forgot to update the invitation with news about the hair," he drawled.

I froze, letting the implication bounce around my head. Anger flushed through me. I wanted to sic the herd of children on him.

I knew it was all his fault. Things had been going wrong for the past week, with misshelved books, an offline catalogue, and missing keys. The glint in Wesley's eyes confirmed his nefarious involvement. 

He was from a different library branch, but two weeks ago it was announced that he would be spending time at our branch to see if he could learn best practices to share with his team. Those of us at the Northern Ridge branch - me, Lakshmi, Melissa, and Matteo - had fallen into the "ride or die" category of friendship. Wesley, however, ate his lunches alone and left work as soon as his shift ended. The rest of us tended to hover in the break room and lick the wounds acquired from the day.

This is my confession: When Wesley first walked through the door to the library, backlit by the sun coming in from the parking lot, I thought he was cute. Hot, even, in a professor-with-his-sleeves-rolled-up kind of way. He was somehow rocking a button-down shirt and khakis, as if he'd stepped out of the spring edition of the J.Crew catalogue. His hair was a few shades darker than mine, and his cheekbones were so sharp you could use them to grate cheese. I should add, I love cheese, so it's certainly meant as a high compliment.