We enter the library and a warm wind blows around us as the automatic doors swings up.
"Don't you love the smell of books?" I ask London, exposing my intime, weird feeling I never thought I'd talk to anyone about.
London turns around, staring at me. "Yes! Of course! It's the best smell in the world... well, except chocolate. It's hard breaking."
"Right! It makes me so... serene."
"And you've been talking about using complicated words!" London grins, continuing with mimicking me from before: "Stone age called and wanted their girl back!"
I snort. "Not stone age, just 1800's."
"YA room?" London points to the opening right across the reading hall.
I nod and let her take the lead into the small room that has come to be the place I've spent the majority of my teenage years within.
We thump down in a duffel bag each, and London takes up her phone. True to habit, I start scanning the bookshelf for Silent Trust. But it isn't there – of course, because it's in London's home.
Fidgeting with my jacket zipper, I stand up, searching the shelves for some other good book. I consider The Hunger Games – even though I've read it four times, from back to back – or Cupcakes and Kisses, because...
No. Don't think about it, or you'll start crying here, among people.
Instead, I follow London's advice and take down a random Alice Oseman book, with an orange cover. The title reads I was born for this.
Going back to her at the bean bags, I open it and flip through the pages a bit. I end up liking the font – and for those who haven't read, the typeface is for many readers the most important thing of deciding whether to read a book or not – so I land in the decision to read it.
When I sit down, London grabs my wrist. Turning around, I receive a hyped smile.
"You're reading Alice Oseman!" she says, looking at me like it's not true.
"Yep! You said they were good, so–"
"Oh yeah, how they are good! You'll love it! Start reading right now, or I'll pound it in your head."
I laugh, flipping over the pages to the beginning of the book. The first page is occupied by a quote, reading:
Children say that people are hung sometimes for speaking the truth
-Joan of Arc
It's a really, really catching quote, and I hurry to flip the page over again to start reading the actual book.
"I'm literally dying" I said, putting my hand on my heart. "You're real."
The world around me disappears, and I forget I'm reading a book, dreaming myself into the story. Instead of plain, white library walls, the surroundings of a train station raise up around me, chatter and laughter and the sound of suitcase wheels rolling on asphalt, the train whistle's cry penetrating through the commotion, and a ginger girl standing before me. Juliet Schwartz.
"So are you" she says, and gestures to my body. "This is so weird. But cool."
I disappear into the story, completely lost among the quick, crisp words that is completely swallowing me.
When London nudges me, it's almost like I jolt awake, snapped back to reality.
"It's gone one and a half hour. The sun is setting outside. I should probably go."
YOU ARE READING
library hearts
Fiksi Remaja'sometimes i think about my life as a book.' • • • • aspen's world is thrown into chaos when her twin sister atlas passes away, leaving her to face the upcoming fall holiday alone. little does she know that that one mysterious earphone girl...
