Right Where You Left Me

linda's large library

"You skipped again today," I say.

We're walking down the street, past little cafes and shops lit with twinkling warm lights. We're talking about our day, and I bring up how Nate wasn't in English class today.

I bury my chin into my jacket collar and Nate leans a little closer to me, shielding my body from the cold wind. Fall has cast her autumn spell on Woodvale, rolling in heavy gray clouds and stealing the traces of summer warmth. My black boots splash into shallow puddles and crunch fiery colored leaves.

He shrugs a little. "I didn't feel like coming to class."

I avoid his eyes. "You could've told me."

"I thought you liked English." He turns to me in surprise.

It's my turn to shrug. I like you better, I want to say. Instead I say, "Class was boring today."

He ducks his head closer to mine, the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips. "Are you saying, my sweet Adya Ahmed, that you missed me?"

"Shut up," I say, rolling my eyes and shoving him. But I was smiling. too.

"Next time I skip class, I'll let you know," he says. "We can skip together."

"Do you go downtown often?" I ask. I think back to summertime, where downtown Toronto was my escape. All it costed was a few coins for the bus and subway. I would roam around and peer into shops that were too expensive, with fancy bags and delicious desserts.

"Yeah," Nate replies. "I lived down there for a while. Not in the good areas, though."

I look up at this mysterious boy with a cigarette in his hand. His grey hoodie is flipped up over his messy brown hair, which flops lazily over his forehead. I resist the urge to run my hands through it.

"Can we stop by Linda's place?" I ask. "I want to grab a few books." She has a library, which has always been my dream, and she told me I'm free to borrow books from her whenever I want.

"Sure," he says. I smile and step onto the road before being yanked back onto the sidewalk. A car goes whizzing past me, not even two inches in front of my face.

"You're going to get hit by a car one of these days," Nate mumbles, setting a hand on my lower back as we cross the road. I try not to think about the warmth of his large hand on my back, and instead I roll my eyes at his cheeky comment.

"I'm not gonna die from it," I say. "No one even drives fast enough for that to happen here."

Nate raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "You sure about that?"

When we get to Linda's she's waiting with mugs of warm coffee for both of us. Outside, it's chilly, and I'm wearing a turtleneck with thin stripes and a wool knit zip up sweater that keeps me warm enough, but my hands are still cold as I wrap them around the steaming mug.

"Come inside, my lovelies," Linda says. "I cleaned up the library just for you." She winks.

I smile and take a sip of my coffee, swallowing the liquid and stepping inside. Nate follows closely behind as we step through the main hallway and turn right into the library.

Linda's house is a farmhouse, with acres of land behind it. She's got a couple of cats that roam around the house and the barn, and she has a lot of farm animals. Her husband, John, takes care of the farm and animals; Linda sits with her cats and reads in her library.

Her library has tall walls with bookshelves that span from the floor to the ceiling. The floor is dark hardwood, and several plush rugs layer on top of the wood. There are big armchairs and side tables with sweet scented candles.