"Just love her... Love will always win."
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the...
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THIRTY MORE minutes.
Thirty more minutes till this library shift ends. Hope forcefully slams a novel back into its place in the brown mahogany shelves, between two other very thick novels. She is frustrated. No, she is aggravated, and not without reason.
Everytime she sees Lawrence or Collins, she cannot help the anger that bubbles up from within her like hot simmering lava.
Now that the semblance between them and Nate is apparent, the anger is now twofold. Hope slams another novel on top of the former, not paying attention to anything. She should talk to her mother but her mother will be stressed out on her behalf. She must be stressed out already seeing as Hope has not called her since after she dropped the bomb on her, telling her that she goes to campus with the rascal who might as well be Nate's father. Or maybe she should talk to Nate. No, how would he help her out?
Hope sighs. She is an adult now. She is twenty years old and she should be able to deal with her problems now. She is an adult and it is time she begins acting like one. She cannot always go back crawling to her mother every time she is facing a few bumps. This must be why Sly mocks and insults her—despite being an adult, she just cannot stop acting like a crybaby and an over dependent worm.
Hope sighs, realizing that Sly has always been hard on her for this reason. Maybe, just maybe, this is Sly's way of showing love—maybe it is Sly's way of hardening Hope so that she can be a strong woman.
Startled, she jumps up a little and hits the said novel in the process, causing it to fall down.
"Huh?" Hope gasps.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the guy says, bending down to pick the novel from the tiled floor which is now losing its sparkly porcelain color, turning a shade darker. "Here." The guy hands her the Baldacci novel.
Hope is surprised to see that it's the same good looking guy she saw at the cafe a few days ago while she went there with Collins.
"Sorry again," he repeats, concern etched all over his features.
"No, it's fine. I was just lost in thought." Hope tries to smile a little, "anyways, what were you saying about the novel?"
"It's crime. This is not the section for it." he shrugs, still looking intently at Hope.
"Oh." Is all Hope manages to say.
"You seem tired, why don't you rest?"
Hope laughs a little, thinking that tired is such an overstatement, if the sarcasm is taken note of. "No, I'm fine. Besides, I only have ten minutes to go. I'll be fine," she assures him, "but thanks for the concern, uum..."
"Ndavi. Please call me Ndavi," he extends his hand to her.
Such a formal procedure. Hope can't help but think.
