Succubus

Chapter 2: Tara Wentworth

Chapter 2: Tara Wentworth

Bridgeton had a public library. Like most public libraries in small-town America the bookshelves were being phased out in favor of outdated computers. Sitting at one of these computers was a seventeen year old girl with dark hair and eyes like an old dog.

Tara Wentworth was reading about homosexuality in Greece. More specifically, she was reading about how Daphnis had become Pan's boyfriend and then had gone on to invent pastoral poetry. Tara figured that since she read so many webcomics about boys being in love with each other that she might as well learn where it all started.

It was Friday night and the library closed in twenty minutes. The librarian kept glancing at her watch and then at Tara. Public television had mystery night every Friday, and Tara was the librarian's last obstacle before she could go home.

Outside the library window Tara watched as a group of her classmates walked by. Most of them divided their attention between each other and their phones. One boy climbed up onto the library fence and jumped off, which got a lukewarm reaction. The group was walking in the direction of Caporegime Pizza.

Tara wondered how she was already a Sophomore. Seventeen months into high-school and she still had a laundry list of firsts to check off. She'd read online that by now she should have at least five close friends, have been asked out, and have had her first drink. So Tara sat in the library and waited for those events to come her way.

"Sweetie are you almost finished?" an old voice asked.

Tara looked up at the librarian. The old woman was smiling, but it was a customer service smile. Tara decided to make herself scarce.

"I'll be done in a second," she mumbled. Tara closed the Wikipedia article on "eromenos" and cleared the computer's browsing history.

Freshman year of high school she'd been reading something similar on a computer in the school library. She'd forgotten to clear the history and the next person to use the computer saw what she'd been reading. Word got around fast and eventually Tara was called into the office so they could explain why those sites weren't appropriate for school. Tara said maybe a hundred words for the remainder of the semester.

Outside the library the air was chilly. The sun was sliding down the sky toward the bridge. Everything was turning orange and purple. From the river anyone had a view of the sun hanging behind the city.

Tara walked in the opposite direction from the city. She passed the small borough hall building that looked like any other house. Across the street was the police station and fire company, all one building. A few blocks away were the train tracks, and past that the public park. Tara headed for the park.

It was too cold for most people, which meant the swings were open. Tara took her favorite one at the end of the line. As she swung higher and higher more of the town came into view. The three churches with their distinct bell towers came in and out of view. The Catholic tower was round, the Orthodox like an onion, and the Anglican one was square. Next to the park was a small lake, and the edges were beginning to freeze over.

Tara felt needles in her palms where she grabbed the swing's metal chain. She didn't want to go home yet. Home meant going to sleep and starting tomorrow, which would be a repeat of today.

A long shadow moved into Tara's view. She let her feet drag two trenches into the sand to stop swinging. Once still, Tara looked along the shadow toward its source. It was a boy, maybe three or four years younger than Tara. His bangs hung over the tops of his glasses.

The boy didn't say anything as he sat on the swing next to Tara. There were four other swings he could have picked, but he sat on the one nearest to her.

Sara started swinging again. She kicked her legs out harder and swung so high that she nearly fell backward out of the seat. Her lonely movie moment was gone thanks to some middle schooler.

"Do you like swings?" the boy asked.

Tara skidded to a halt again. She looked over at him as he waited for her answer.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Do you like swinging?"

It was a simple question, but Tara needed a second to answer. No one had asked her opinion on swings since elementary school.

"Yeah, every once in a while," she said. "Why?"

The boy looked away and shrugged. "I just see you come here sometimes and go on the swings."

Tara suddenly felt worried that this was a stalker. She'd heard about stalkers when her parents watched the news. Most of them were older than the people they stalked, but otherwise the boy was checking all the boxes.

"I have to go home," Tara said abruptly.

The boy stood up too. "Okay. What's your name?" he asked.

She tried to think of a fake name but couldn't. Besides, it was such a small town that he could just look her up at the borough hall.

"Tara," Tara said.

"I'm Charles," the boy said. "I live over there." He pointed toward a line of houses across the street. Tara wasn't sure which one he meant.

Tara nodded and headed off toward home. She couldn't decide whether or not to look on the bright side. Charles wasn't the kind of connection she was looking for, but maybe it was a start. If a middle schooler liked her maybe she was a few adjustments away from a full schedule on Friday night.

Tara walked through the front door of her house and waited in the living room for dinner. Her mother came out of the kitchen holding a cooking knife.

"I need you to set the table," she said.

Tara nodded and headed for the cabinet with all the plates.

"How was your afternoon?" Tara's mom asked.

"Okay."

"Did you go anywhere?"

"The library, then the park."

"That's nice."

Tara's mom went back to cutting vegetables. Tara stopped folding a napkin and looked out the window. She made a silent vow that the rest of the year would be different.