The Mean Men That Women Have To Deal With

(7)

I'm in my room now. It's quiet and I'm alone. We finished eating breakfast a couple hours ago and I took a shower to calm myself. It's incredibly boring but I try to pass the time quickly. Remembering g there's a library down the hallway I walk out my room, and head towards it. I have yet to explore the entire place but the library is a good place to start. Once I get to the two big brown doors that lead to the library, I remember this book I needed to read for english class. Maybe it'll be in there.

The library smells like new books and a bit like burnt wood and I adore it. I brought my books from back home but those are nothing compared to how many are in here. The books start at the floor and reach the ceiling tiles. I start on the first walk of books, as anyone would do. At eye level there's books about financing and math and money. Boring. I have always despised math. Though I'm pretty good at it, I don't sit at a table and do math problems for fun.

The rest of the wall is all about math and science. I do enjoy learning about the planets and our universe, but that's not the book I'm looking for right now. Moving on, I instead walk to the last wall of books. This wall is next to a little lounge area with three love seats and some blankets and throw pillows. It looks cozy, I can't wait to sit there with a book. Looking back at the wall it's full of fiction books. I look for the specific author though this wall is the end of the alphabet. I move to a previous wall of books and find the author I'm looking for.

Aldeous Huxley. His shelf is near the floor and I have to bend at the waist, my chin almost touching my legs, to be able to see anything. It takes me about a minute to go through all his books and find the one I'm looking for. Brave New World sits there with all its glory and all it's worn pages. It's an old book but it astonishes me that it's so worn out, as if someone reads it very often. The other books aren't as worn out as this one and it makes me wonder whether it's David or Jason's favorite book.

The cover is almost yellow now instead of its original white and the original black letters are almost grey. Faded and sad and old. Maybe I'll be like that one day. When I'm old and have nothing else to live for. Will I even make it to be grey and faded. Or will my life be cut short by other people, or myself?

I take the book back to the cozy lounge area and sit in the love seat facing the window. I steal a blanket from the adjacent seat and place it over my legs, admiring the view from the floor to ceiling windows. The whole wall is basically a big ass window starting where the books end and ending where other books begin.  Outside the window, is a yard that melts into tall trees and beyond that the beautiful sky. There's a pool outside, I know that, but I can't see it from where I'm sitting. I tear my eyes away from the beautiful scenery and open the book to start reading.

I start at the begging, as any one would. Though sometimes, starting in the middle will get rid of the nasty stuff that no one wants to know about. About the sad stuff and the 'humans are awful' stuff. And sometimes starting at the end will give you a happy story, with a happy begging and the happy end everyone wants and desires. Sometimes I do that. Where I start at the end so I only know the characters as happy people that love one another and have conquered all evil. Sometimes, when people want me to talk about my self, I don't start at the beginning. I start towards the end and skip all the stuff where my dad was drunk and angry. So fucking angry, with us, and for no fucking reason too. I don't tell them that because they don't know how to react and I don't want to see them struggle for an answer. I do tell them though, that I eat every day and I'm sleeping well and that I'm happy with my mom. They know how to react to that.

***

I wake up to Jason sitting in the love seat adjacent from me. I guess I fell asleep reading the book.

"Hello. Did you sleep well?" His voice is deep and it surprises me that he's even talking to me right now.

"Hi, um yeah I slept fine," I sit up and put the book down on the center table, still open so I don't loose my place. "Hey about what I said to your dad-"

"Hey don't worry about it, he can be an asshole sometimes. He has no filter, especially when talking to pretty girls. I'm just surprised you don't either." He is leaning back in the love seat with his arms crossed on his chest and his long legs sprawled in front of him.

I just nod my head and turn to look out the window, his gaze intimidated by me. I ignore the pretty girls comment. The sky is still a bright pastel blue. What time is it? How long did I sleep? I grab my phone out of my pocket and check the time. 4:36, it says. I have a few notifications but I can't be bothered enough to check them right now.

"What are you reading miss Leslie?" His voice startles me and I can feel my blood rush to my cheeks. Though I notice he can see the title of the book from where he's sitting. Is he stupid or does he genuinely want to start a conversation with me?

"Umm.... just a book. Nothing interesting. It's for my English class." He perks an eyebrow as he's looking at the book still sitting on the table. "No book is just a book miss Leslie." I stop him before he can go on. I don't want to hear this. I've heard this many times by many doctors and many therapists. It's different versions every single time but still basically the same thing.

"No. You're not gonna give me that talk. I didn't ask whether the book had a deep meaning to you or not. I've heard this same speech over and over again and I'm not gonna hear it one more time by a random guy I don't even know." At this point, I had thrown the blanket away from me and had sat up on the love seat.

"Except I'm not a random guy miss Leslie. We're much closer than that aren't we?"

"No. We're not." I dead pan. I don't think I'll ever get close to anyone. My mom is the only one that knows me and that I'll ever let in. But him? Not going to happen. Ever.

"Oh cmon miss Leslie, don't be like that."

"I'll be however I want to be, but thanks for the offer mr. Jason." I stand up and grab the book from the table, not forgetting that it's for an assignment. I walk out the library, though it takes me about a minute to actually walk out the doors since the library is so big.

"My pleasure miss Leslie." Is the last thing I hear before the doors close with bang behind me.

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I don't have much to say today so I'll keep it short.

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