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"One of the reasons why I hate libraries." The guy sighed heavily after regaining his composure.

"I'm so sorry," Gemma apologized as she collected her books. From the corner of her eye, she saw him help grab the other books. "I was looking around and didn't see you. Do you want to visit a clinic?"

Eyeing the titles, he handed her the books. "Nah. I went to the library to study."

Her forehead crumpled in confusion.

"It rhymed," he blinked down at her. "Library and study. . . ?"

"Okay. . . ?" She still had her forehead crumpled. "Are you sure your foot is okay?"

"Yup," he looked at his foot. "Few stitches and maybe a cast will do."

Gemma gulped. She glanced at her books, making sure she didn't carry a deadly one. Each one seemed harmless and wouldn't be able to leave a damage on one's foot.

Her reaction must've amused him that he laughed. A loud 'shush' came from the opposite aisle and quickly, he pressed his lips into a thin line.

Gemma narrowed her eyes instead of dropping a retort. She thought this guy was weird. Turning on her heels, she went on with her business.

"Wait." He called.

Gemma turned around to look back at him.

"Do you go here often?"

"Not really. Why?"

"I need a tour," he answered in a defeated tone. "I'm not a library-person, plus this place has lots of books—well obviously, 'cause it's a library—and no one was able to help me out. I also find it ironic 'cause the old lady at the help desk can't even raise her finger to point the right shelf; makes me think she's there so people can help her help them."

Gemma felt sorry for him. The oldest and most reliable staff left was Mrs. Conner. What the guy said was true. She could barely hear one's questions and would take forever to raise her head and look up at them. She happened to be sitting at the information desk all afternoon; sole reason was, she was there to be used as props.

There were designated computers for customers to check the books if they're available. So Mrs. Conner's help was hardly needed. That would be another reason why less than five staff were present. The computers were there to assist the people. Convenient and easy—well, not to this guy.

"I need references for my homework. And your choice of book made me think you can help me graduate—even with flying colors."

Gemma kept her mouth shut as she watched him speak.

"I'm Travis—Trev, for short," he smiled without showing his teeth. "I know, it's a different name. But you're still talking to the same person."

"Gemma."

"Gemma." Trev nodded.

Her phone rang. She panicked as she took it from her pocket and as she carried the pile of books. She was struggling that Trev helped her by carrying some of them. She mumbled a thanks then answered the phone.

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