If I Found Finn (#Wattys2015)

thirteen/ (a) boy

I handed the letter to Bas and watched as he skimmed over it, face changing into expressions of confusion, hurt, and something I couldn't quite name. 

He sighed and leaned back against the side of the bed. 

"I can't believe him," he murmured. 

He closed his eyes for a good moment. When they reopened, he looked tired. 

"So what do we do now?" he asked, rubbing the area near his eyes. 

"That," I said, glancing at the letter strewn between us, "as long as you're up for up it." 

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. 

"Don't be stupid." 

---

That was how I found myself behind the wheel of Mr. Romans's blue Toyota Camry. My hands felt foreign gripping onto the worn leather, but I pushed those thoughts out of my mind, focusing on one destination. 

The car ride was mostly silent, apart from the occasional rustle or wayward cough. But it wasn't exactly the time for small talk. 

When the library came into view, a cold sick feeling formed in my stomach. Ignoring it, I got out of the driver's seat and waited for Bas to get out of the car. 

As he opened the glass front doors, the cooler air hit us. I wasted no time making it to the front desk. 

An older man with wire-framed glasses and graying hair sat behind the main desk, flipping through pages of a book. 

"Um, excuse me," I started. The man looked up mid-flip, eyebrow raised slightly. 

"Yes, can I help you?" 

"I was wondering if there was someone named Marcie who worked here?" 

"Hmm," he sighed, flipping through the book once more, "it looks like she's not going to be in today." 

The cold sick feeling grew. 

"What?" Bas deadpanned. 

The man put down the book completely.  

"Is there a problem, young man?" 

Bas's face flushed a crimson red. 

"What he means to say, sir, is that it's really important that we see this Marcie person," I said trying not to make the situation anymore awkward. 

The man let out another sigh. He flipped through it again and then looked back at us. 

"You're just in luck, it looks like she's actually working the second floor." 

"Thank you-" I started, but Bas was already dragging me up the stairwell before I could finish. 

We made it to the second floor desk. A young woman with shorter blonde hair was typing away on a laptop. A calm, neutral expression rested on her face.

"Um, hello, we're looking for someone named Marcie," I quietly said, hoping I wasn't interrupting something important. 

She looked up, a cheery smile replacing her calm one. 

"You're looking at her," she spoke, "What can I do for you?" 

"Well," I glanced at the folded piece of paper tucked in my sleeve, "I'm looking for a copy of The Book Thief. A worn copy."

The expression on her face dropped slightly, but quickly went back to it's perky demeanor. 

"I'll be right back," she informed, getting up from her seat. 

Bas and I stood there for a couple of minutes until she came back.  

"Here you go," she said, handing me a well worn copy of The Book Thief. She gave me one last look, wistful or sad I couldn't tell, then went back to typing. 

We sat down at an empty study table, as we both started flipping through the book. 

A flash of color caught my eye and I stopped on the page. A sentence was highlighted in green, and a folded piece of paper was wedged between the pages. 

"The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: A boy that loves you."