That Sexy Librarian and Me

42nd

what seemed like forty two years,
sole and lone

For the spring break, Remy went to the beach house and watched the newly-weds fight it out, between the crashing waves, between building the sand castles, between dancing at night. Of course, he did no dancing. He merely stood in the background and prayed he seemed invisible to the lovers.

At home he managed to find a replacement for the position of assistant to the librarian. Of course, the main post itself was yet to be replaced, and it felt like a sign, like Athenia was going to come back. Remy couldn’t keep count of how many months had passed, and he thought that, the number of months would come crashing back. He’d yet to know how many little pieces his heart had decided to become, and he couldn’t care lesser. He was just glad he didn’t have to be around the library anymore.

Of course, that only meant the obvious. He came by every day after classes and sometimes, if he woke to the sound of Athenia humming in the kitchen, her absence too much to take, he’d be there before the brink of dawn.

And that was when he met Russia.

“What kind of parent calls their kid Russia?” he questioned as she walked to class with him. She was a freshman, she was from North Dakota, and she definitely did not have any Russian heritage. He double checked that information.

“They feel for the cold war and its remnants.”

“It’s a war.”

“It’s what kept the world from peace, Remy. How can I explain?”

She’d come to him during his brooding periods in the library and begged for an extension on her book, yet again. Remy took many minutes to remember who she was, and to remember he was no longer the assistant to the librarian.

“Talk to old Chev over there,” he had pointed to the desk. “She’ll help out.”

The girl had snorted. “That’s even weirder than mine.”

That had made him stop doing his mundane work. “And what’s yours.”

“War is war. Russia is Russia. It’s a freaking country.”

“It’s a beautiful country. They are so patriotic. Have you been there?”

He looked at her as the sun shined through the trees above, the library mere steps from where they stood. They were supposed to spend the day reading comics, but somehow, he wanted to just... eat.

“Let’s have lunch.” She announced then. “I know a cute cafe down the road.”

“Do you?”

“It’s a fantastic place, nothing Russian about it.”

He laughed at that. “You’ve been teased about this Russian thing a lot, have you?”

“More than you know, Remington. Googling Russia a hundred times a day did not lessen the jokes any, trust me.”

They headed off for lunch and enjoyed their quiet as they read through the latest edition of Superman. Discussing this stuff was always a plus with a girl. She’d be less inclined to talk about the plot and more about the outfits.

“I love Wonder Woman’s outfit the best, hands down.”

“What about Hawk Girl?”

“Six.”

“And Black Widow?”

She looked thoughtful as she put a spoonful of her soup into her mouth, her eyes closing at the taste of it. “Eight, if we’re talking Scarlet Johannsen.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll give it to Wonder Woman. Nine.” His eyes crinkled happily. “What about Catwoman, I ask you?”

“Ten,” she agreed. “Anne Hathway was gorgeous.”

“She was no Catwoman, I’ll give her a six. Now Michelle Phiffer, I’ll give a ten and a half.”

The two laughed over an edition of Archies and then moved to the library to do their respective homework.

And Remy felt nothing more than companionship for the woman, even after the weeks passed and they were closer than ever. He never made the mistake of inviting the girl home, and once he’d been oddly blunt about his feelings for Athenia.

“What’s she like?” she’d asked then, their dinner turning cold as the air turned dull before his eyes. Did she care about him? Was he leading her on?

“She’s... I can’t. I don’t talk about her.”

“Okay.”

“Please don’t ask me to.” He added.

“Okay. I won’t.”

And they didn’t. They never did.

One day, after a mystical day of talking Divergent series, Harry Potter and certain other dystopian fiction he’d yet to read but heard a great deal from Russia about, he checked his mail. He checked the first mail from a Lorenz someone.

The name Martin in the ID made his heart flip. Just a little.

Dearest Remy,

It was her. It was just the first line, but he knew it was her.

It was her.

It’s my birthday. I wish we could have cake and celebrate. I wish I was with you.

How did you spend yours?

Yours,

Athenia

“She mailed you?” Maddie asked on the phone as he paced by the computer. Her yawn was off putting, but it reminded him of what the time was.

“Isn’t it two in the afternoon?”

“Always time for a nap. Why’d she mail you?”

“It’s her birthday, apparently.”

“So?”

He looked at the wall blankly then. That was a good question. So what if it was? “I don’t know why she’s mailed.”

“What’re you going to do?” Maddie asked a second later.

“Mail her back.”