That Sexy Librarian and Me

31st

Why make all 31 things perfect

when just o-n-e would suffice?

“Where’ve you been staying? I went by your previous arrangement...” his mother trailed off, right before her eyes went wide, her eyebrows raised. Remy cringed. He should’ve known.

“You’re living with a girl.”

“Why would you assume that?

She scoffed then.

“I don’t want to come back,” he told her after five seconds of nothing. “I don’t want the money. I don’t want anything from either of you.”

At that, his mother’s expression looked as if she’d fallen down and broken a puppy.

“I just...” I love her. I know this will change everything. You were never really like family. We never had everything. We were never happy. You always judged me, told me who to be. I don’t want to try anymore, I just want to be. Don’t you see?

“I don’t understand. Is this about the girl?”

“It’s not about her.” It is more than you will never know, ever understand. “I just don’t want to come back.”

“Did your father call you?”

“He didn’t.”

“I...”

His mother sat deathly still, her coffee cup set right in front of her, her eyes downcast. She barely said anything after he sat down, but now it was just downright bothersome, the wordlessness of their meeting.

“I love you,” he assured her.

“I love you, Remy.”

“I don’t like thinking about my future being tied down to that firm,” he looked away then, at the bright ray of orange and pink that hit the side of his eye, thinking of how many days of California saw sunny days like this.

Had it really been two months since New Year’s?

“You’ve never felt that way before.”

“I’m different now.”

“This doesn’t sound like a permanent change, if you’ll allow me to comment.”

“I don’t want your comments.”

With his mother, he’d realized long ago, that he had to be level-headed, strong, more so than with his father. His father was easy to talk to, to manipulate, and to convince. His mother, on the other hand, was anything but.

“Who are your friends now?”

“No one. I have no friends.”

“Who are you living with, then?”

“Someone important, someone you wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not?”

“She’s not rich,” I’m not sure what her status of finance is, really. “And you don’t like those kinds, do you?”

“Not if she’s going to lynch my son of everything he owns.”

“I own nothing. Nothing of yours is mine. Please don’t make it anything else.”

Heartbreaking: the one word that described that meeting. It was at a cafe not far from campus, and the walk back was surprisingly silent, even in his head.

Athenia didn’t ask anything, didn’t say anything, when he walked into the library a little after eight. He was late. She only glanced at him sympathetically.

“If I said,” he sounded so child like as he spoke. “That I want very little from you, nothing but one thing, one little, unimportant thing, would you be willing to promise it to me?”

She didn’t say anything as he picked her hand up and caressed it.

“I don’t know,” she told him in a small voice.

“You don’t even know what I want.”

“I don’t need you to say it, Rem, and I’m saying I don’t know.”

Because we’re young? Because it’s only been months, not years? Because I haven’t promised you a future and a house in suburbs?

Why?

Tell me why.