Chapter 4
There's always a grateful solitude in the town library. Everyone is captivated in the snow globes of their own fantasies, sheltered like a safe haven. Books upon books, booths, and tables in every available spot, and a vague scent of lavender to seal it all in. The library was an absolute gem, it reminded me of Greek Mythology - tales of the Lotus Eaters - where no one wanted to return home after the magical time warp of the Lotus flowers.
I breeze by the bookshelves with my textbooks sitting in my bag and my hands waiting to be filled with novels. At first, nothing had really grabbed my interest besides the pretty metallic book covers, a skim of a synopsis every other shelf. I spot a spine of a book, the title in a white calligraphy font. With a small smile of curiosity etched on my face, I reach my hand about as high to the level of my face and grasp the book on the far left.
When I pluck it from its place, there's another face through the negative space in the row of novels just as the book right across is put into their hands.
"Oh hi," I squeak when there is the inevitability of confrontation as our eyes meet. From the telling of the small tunnel, I could tell it was a boy with brown eyes and sunkissed skin.
"Hey," The boy smiles shyly, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. There's a small pause. "This is weird, isn't it?"
"Very," We both chuckle lightly, the library a quiet sound as it is. "What are the chances of picking up these two books at the same time, right across from each other?"
"Slim," He answers with a cheeky expression. "Must be fate if you ask me."
"How charming of you," I comment sarcastically, an amused smile crossing the tip of my lips. I look down at the book I had chosen, fingertips crossing every fold as I lightly scan the back cover. In a chance to fill the gaps, the boy does the same.
"I have to get going, I have to get home before my roommate throws a tantrum." The boy says and I look up from the novel to meet his sweet gaze. "But it's nice meeting you..."
"Valerie, my name's Valerie." I fumble a bit over my answer.
"Wren," He establishes and then nods goodbye. We walk away in opposite directions, him paying for his book and exiting, I indulging more into the labyrinth that was the library.
I sit in a small, singular booth by the wall with the novel cracked to the first page. The textbooks could absolutely wait the time.
***
I roll cookie dough into tiny spheres as I listen attentively to the audiobook playing on the kitchen island. "The Odyssey" was being spoken through my computer, the chapters of ongoing similes passing as the time goes.
It hadn't been the first time I've had to feed myself on circumstances. Tonight was just another night along the others, a lonely baking session to become another day in the year. I toss the chocolate chip cookie dough between my hands as I round and place them onto a tray. After the tray is filled with an evenly space between each ball of dough - with an unhealthy precision - I pop them in the oven as I continue to analyze the passage echoing at its highest volume.
When I reach the ends of the required chapter, I pause the audiobook from my laptop, a certain whine creeping up. It's more evident that there's a sound coming from my door; it becoming gradually louder. Though I know all too well what it is, cat scratches. The cat cries repetitively and the scratches start to count up along with the seconds.
"I thought I was over this stage in my life," I mutter under my breath, my eyes naturally twitching at the situation. I grumble a string of incoherent phrases collided all into one as my feet shuffle towards the door.
Immediately, the cat's screeching stops once I step outside; it's irritating screech replaced with familiar eyes of innocence. "C'mon kitty," I shake my head with disappointment before scooping the cat into my arms and marching over to the house three doors down. Its silence becomes an apologetic whimper as it nuzzles its way into the crook of my neck. Does the boy know how to take care of a cat? I know the answer for certain.
Arriving upon the destination, I set the cat down and adjust as it snuggles around my right foot like a big, furry ankle bracelet. I knock with slight force to then hear the boy's footsteps grow louder and louder.
"Do you have no sympathy for people who just want to live a peaceful life?" I spat instantly after the door creaks. The boy's eyes widen at my immediate outrage, but of course, my presence is not surprising.
"Someone's snappy," He says with an unfazed smirk. "Don't take it personally; Midnight likes to scratch my door too, though it is to get out of the house and not in. He needs more human compassion."
"Midnight?" I clarify, distracted from the true intention of my visit. My stare follows the cat by my feet, it's sleek black fur contrasting the light grey pavement. "You named it Midnight?"
"He, Valerie," The boy emphasizes. "And yes, my friend named him that. Technically - now that I think of it - it's his cat. I'm so used to this guy around the house that I forgot he wasn't always around before then."
My smile stains for a few seconds before I blink back into the reality of what I was at his doorstep for. "Cute story, but stop changing the subject. You know, I know, we made a compromise."
"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten." His expression becomes more serious as the words drag on with reassurance. "Midnight doesn't annoy you only, he irritates every breathing soul in this house. My backyard is filled with junk I'm trying to sort out from the garage and once I get it cleared out, I'll get out of your hair. My dearest apologies, Valerie."
I undo my crossed arms, a distant look encompassing my face. "Do your best to keep Midnight in check, will you?"
"I promise," He persuades with absolute assertiveness. "What did Midnight disrupt you of anyways, getting up on a good read? Your millionth English paper this month?"
A sheepish line tightens on my lips, embarrassed that college work is all I do lately. "Am I that predictable?"
"Like a book, Valerie, like a book." He answers without pause.
"Well excuse me," I back away slowly when the words die out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Midnight inching closer in an attempt to cling back onto my ankles. "I have cookies to check on."
"You bake?" He asks with an eyebrow raised comically, head tilted.
"It becomes an automatic time filler when living alone and needing hobbies." I shrug nonchalantly before waving goodbye. He returns the gesture and I complete another lap upon the cycle. I walk down the sidewalk, away from the house after shaking off Midnight from my feet, and become consumed in the lonely streets.
The thought doesn't come to mind until I pull my cookies from the oven and pour a glass of milk, but I realized that I've learned his cat's name before knowing his. The boy three doors down, a mystery in success. I take my plate toppled with a pile of cookies onto the coffee table, I pick up the novel I had gotten from the library that I had left untouched since.
My fingers graze the textured font of the title, The Concept of Our Fates, admiring the alluring cover. I had only read through the first couple chapters, and though they were all impressive, I didn't want to flip another page until the time felt right. It has only been a short amount of time - less than a day - but the book hadn't possessed the sheer sparkle at the library as it did now.
"Chapter three," I start to read aloud in a low voice. "The universe sometimes collides our stories like us soulmates are a pair of shoelaces. We intertwine paths, and are made to be opposite ends, though we are essentially apart of the same string..."
