Between the Stacks

Chapter 2

I'm not sure what possessed me in that moment, sitting on the park bench in my tutu, to have wished Wesley had followed me. Perhaps I had eaten something funky earlier that day, or maybe Mercury was in retrograde. Whatever the reason, it fortunately passed. Within fifteen minutes I was back to cursing Wesley's very existence.

To be fair, he likely didn't deserve my anger; I was frustrated with myself due to the fire and I was channeling my emotions towards him. Of course, the fact that he had sabotaged my wacky hair event was a dick move, and I still had no idea why he did it.

Worse, I wondered about why he had been undermining the library for the past few days.

The fire, though, definitely hadn't been him. He'd been in the room with me, staring at me with those dark eyes. And judging from those same bloodshot eyes from a few minutes ago, he was genuinely upset.

"Emma! What the hell is going on?"

I looked up to see Melissa rolling towards me in her wheelchair, a panicked look on her face. She came to a stop beside the bench and watched in horror as the firefighters dragged their hoses into the library.

Melissa's apartment was on the top floor of the apartment just across the street on the other side of the park; she would have seen all the action from there.

"Everyone's fine," I said. "Except my ego. And my hair," I said, gesturing to my head. My collapsed unicorn horn probably looked like a dead racoon.

"Oh, honey," she said, reaching over and grabbing my arm.

Even though she was a decade older than me, Melissa and I became fast friends when I joined the library. We shared the same love of sangria and colorful cardigans, which was more than enough for the base of a solid friendship. But where I might wear a yellow cardigan and call that enough fashion for the day, she would add chunky necklaces, glasses without lenses, and shoes in all colors of the rainbow. Even on her day off, she was wearing a designer dress with two little bows on the shoulders. On my days off, I was lucky if I put on pants.

"What happened?" she asked, and I gave her the rundown. I skipped the part about Wesley, figuring that would be a better discussion for later.

"I lasted three months on the job," I said, sighing. I scuffed my feet against the concrete. "It was a good run."

"You're not going to get fired," Melissa said. "I'm sure that whatever the cause was, you had nothing to do with it."

"Sure," I said sarcastically. I had spent years of my life dreaming of becoming a librarian. As a child, I would beg my parents for another story at bedtime. If they refused, I would pull the flashlight out from behind my pillow and would read to Pickles, my stuffed cat. I spent my volunteer hours in the high school library shelving paperbacks of Beloved and To Kill a Mockingbird. I'd spent another four years doing a bachelor's degree, followed by another two-year Masters, just to qualify for the position.

It was a huge investment of time and money, and I'd just blown it.

I put my head in my hands. I would lose my job, no one would ever hire me again, my parents would be ashamed, I would end up on the cover of The Globe and Mail as the worst employee ever, perhaps Justin Trudeau himself would call me to tell me that I suck -

"Although," Melissa said, biting her lip. "Maybe you want to get back over there?" She pointed towards the library.

Lakshmi was standing in front, talking to Wesley. I swore and launched myself to my feet.

Melissa's wheelchair was motorized, and we quickly sped across the street and back over to the library. Most of the spectators had drifted away by now, and one of the fire trucks had already left; just one was remaining. I overheard the last part of what Wesley was saying.

"-I sent the participants home, telling them that we would send them a follow-up email with information about how to register for the rescheduled event. I showed the firefighters where to find our fire plan, and-"

Wesley suddenly saw me and cut himself off. Lakshmi followed his gaze.

"Where have you been?" she hissed. "You were the supervising librarian!"

Lakshmi was technically my manager; the Northern Ridge branch was small, so we all had double duty. Not only did she run the children's programming, but she also took care of the HR and managerial aspects of the library. I'm sure the stress of her job was one of the reasons causing the thin grey lines in her hair. It looked like I would be responsible for causing a few more of those hairs.

"I'm sorry," I said, holding up my hands. "I shouldn't have left. I needed a breather for a moment. I was only gone a few minutes."

"Every minute counts in an emergency," Lakshmi said. It sounded like she was quoting from something. Likely the fire safety manual... the same one I had neglected to read. I would file that under Things I Really Should Have Done and Now Terribly Regret That I Haven't.

The worst part of it was that Lakshmi and I were friends. Seeing that devastated look on her face was a complete gut-punch. I wanted to fall into the void. No. I wanted to be the void. I wanted to not exist, to not face the shame of my failure.

"I'm so glad I had the alert on my phone," she continued, waving her iPhone. I wasn't sure what she meant, but I guessed that perhaps the fire alarm would have sent a message. "I was just sitting in the dentists' chair when I got it."

"Did you want to go back to your appointment? I think we can handle this," I said, and instantly knew I'd made a mistake.

"Clearly you can't handle this," she snapped. I took a step back.

I'd said it as a reflex. I wanted to make things better, and instead I was just making them worse.

"Look," she said, clenching her fists. "I'm sorry. I'm stressed. A fire in the library is my worst nightmare."

I had never really thought about my worst nightmare before. In a way, I had already survived it years ago.

"Look, I want you to go home, Emma. Take a shower. I'll phone everyone tonight with updates, okay?" Lakshmi started to scroll through her phone. "I need to update Katherine-" She wandered away from the group as she started the call.

Katherine was none other than Katherine Jaworski, the CEO of the Cherryhill Library system. When most people think of CEOs, they probably think of hotshot men on Wall Street as they make it rain hundred-dollar bills. I'd seen pictures of Katherine, and she looked like an amalgamation of every grandma: short, owned a lot of floral shirts, and wore her white hair in tight curls.

Perhaps it would be Katherine herself who would fire me.

"Will you be okay getting home?" Melissa asked me.

"I'll be fine," I said, dreading the very humiliating bus ride home. I still hadn't saved up enough money for a car. I sent up a silent prayer for the bus riders of Cherryhill public transit, who would have the misfortune of smelling me.

Wesley scoffed, and we both looked at him. He looked as spotless as ever, with no sign of the bloodshot eyes. He looked at Melissa and said, "Don't bother asking her if she needs help. She won't say yes, even if she does."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. The comment was ambiguous, but it was enough to fuel my nascent rage. I could feel anger flushing my face, even though I was as overly pale as Casper.

He shrugged. "It's not supposed to mean anything."

I pointed at him, and his eyes widened almost comically. "I don't know what your problem is," I hissed. "But I'm going to figure it out." After I have a nap and a snack, I didn't add. I was too exhausted and burnt out - pardon the pun - to deal with him.

He held his hands up innocently. "Whatever."

"I'll call you later," I said to Melissa, and stomped off. Only moments later I realized I was stomping in the wrong direction, and the bus stop was the other way. I was too embarrassed to backtrack in front of Wesley.

Fine. I would take the long way home, and every stomp stoked the anger that I knew would shortly explode.