Find You There (Fanfic Version)

Fifty-Seven

I'm out of time in almost all ways, in the university, I just feel out of place. I can't seem to get along well with anyone so I spend most of my free time in the library where I can settle in peace.

Whenever someone makes a song or movie reference that are usually about the latest stuff, I don't get them. One would think it'll be easier for me but it's a rather depressing thought that. . . It's not. I hate it, mostly because I should be helping my parents run our company or at least should be training to do so but I had to have that stupid accident.

A lot of lives changed that day. It was a pile-up accident and I got involved, along with two trucks, four SUV’s and a school bus. Too much casualties than I’d like to go back to. I was lucky to be alive, lucky to have recalled all of my memories. . . But then, am I lucky?

My eyes slightly trail off from the book I’m reading and look up ahead to a boy who seemed to be having trouble finding a book in one of the shelves in front of me. Observation seemed like a good idea at the moment since I’m already bored with what I’m reading. He doesn’t really look like he’s a library boy, in fact, if I didn’t just see him here, I would think this is the last place in campus where he’ll be heading to. Even in the simplest outfit, he seems like a troublemaker, hairstyle alone says that as it is a spiky, chestnut brown, pair that with his wild green eyes and he’s already someone to avoid.

At the very least, according to my standards.

Recalling, I’ve seen him here before during the past few weeks but I don’t really recall him reading. Or maybe I just wasn’t paying attention to him. He takes a glance at either side, left and right and he sort of sees me looking at him.

“Oh, hey,” he says. I don’t reply. I just raise an eyebrow. “Do you know where to find that book? Um, ‘Dreams and Psycholgical Connections?’ by Arthur um, Cronelius?” he asks, slightly walking towards me. What does he think I am, a librarian?

“It’s Carter Arnelius,” I correct. I close the book I’m reading and I slide it across the table since he’s quite near.It was, in fact, the book he was looking for.

“No, no, you’re not done reading yet,” he says, sliding the book back to me. He smiles up and deep dimples show on his cheeks.

I shut my eyes for a moment, knowing that they’d just gone wide. Seriously? I just had to have this kind of luck!

I manage to compose myself within the next two seconds. “I’ve read that already, nine times so go ahead,” I reply, standing up.

“Still, you might forget some details.”

I roll my eyes, “I don’t forget details.” I take my bag and almost walk out.

“Not convinced. I’m not taking it until you convince me.”

I turn around to face him again, my hand holding my strap very tightly. “Fine, give me a page and a line, I’ll tell you,” I say.

He opens the book, smirking. “Page 172, second line?”

I take a few seconds of looking back through my memory.

“They’re sometimes meant to be metaphorical, symbols, coded in ways the brain has both tasks to create and analyze for itself,” I tell him.

His mouth slightly falls agape but he sure is fast in rebuilding his cool-guy demeanor as it disappeared a second later. “Wow.”

At least I know that amazement wasn't fake.

“So, I don’t need it,” I reply and walk out of the library.

It doesn’t take a minute when he walks out of the library as well and I soon realize that he’s just walking right beside me, keeping up in a fast pace.