Chapter Eight: Springtime

The temperature was rising.  The walk to the library turned into a hazardous maze of slush and snowmelt.  One morning, while gathering fruits and vegetables from the community garden in an effort to save money and supplement my income, the sky darkened.

Then, a torrential downpour started.

I ran sprinting down the street, dodging growing puddles of mud, and took cover in the library.

The great outdoors and I were not going to be good friends.

Looking over my paper for the hundredth time, I wondered if it might be better if I scrapped a few paragraphs and added more quotes from my research.  Then I worried that I sounded as though I was meandering rather than making a good argument.  I rewrote.  I read back.  I deleted half of what I had written and started over again.

“How’s the paper coming?”  Mr. Peters asked when I came in that afternoon.

“Alright, I suppose.”  I grumbled.

I let him read over what I had worked on while I put a few new books out on the shelves.  When I came back to the register, Mr. Peters was clucking his tongue and shaking his head.

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.” he said, handing my notes back to me with a smile.

I scribbled new ideas in the margins and flipped the pages in my hands as I walked home, re-reading again.  The sun was out now, pricking the back of my neck with warmth.  I had almost reached my doorstep when someone leaped straight into my path.

“Hiya!”  Nirina squealed.

 “Ancients!”  I clasped my hand to my chest.  “Niri…?  Wha…?  It’s the middle of the week…”

“I cut class.”  Nirina said, smirking.  She held her arms out and closed her eyes.  “I don’t think I’ve seen the sun in moooonths!  Isn’t this wicked?”

"I suppose…”  I murmured.

“Do you want to go to the beach with me?”  Nirina asked.  “Pleeeaaase?  Daria doesn’t get it.  When all the other green things go dormant, she can curl up in her little pot and still feel comfy and cozy.  But I can’t keep lying in the bathtub all day… I need space to spread my fins!”

 “I need to work my essay…”  I muttered.

Nirina snatched the papers out of my hands and skimmed through my numerous notes.

“It’s brilliant.” she said, dismissively, shoving the papers into a large pocket of her backpack. “You can type it up on my laptop and then mail it when we get back, now come ooonn!” she whined, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me down the walkway.

I followed, cracking a smile.

Nirina navigated the roads as though she knew them by heart.  She ran ahead of me, and then stopped just short as an expensive car came speeding around the corner.  

 She jerked backwards.  The car’s wheels splashed through a puddle that had formed on the side of the street, sending water cascading over Nirina’s clothes.  Nirina squealed, putting her hands up and laughing.  

The car went racing by me.

 The handsome stranger from that odd day at Tome Traders was in the driver's seat.  He smiled at me, and lifted a hand in greeting as his car turned the corner.  I tentatively lifted my own hand.

 “You know him?”  Nirina asked, turning around with wide eyes.  Water dripped from her clothes, but she seemed not to mind.

“I met him once…  He stopped in to pick up a book on hold.”  I admitted, falling in step next to her.

“Reaper, that’s Thane Stenberg.”  Nirina said, her eyes widening even more.  “I didn’t think he stopped at bookstores.  I thought he had his slaves make them custom from his private paper mill.”

The buildings opened up to an endless view of clear, turquoise ocean.  The street beneath our feet gave way to glowing sands.  Nirina let out a whoop and dropped her bag in the sand, sprinting towards the tide as it rushed forward.

I smiled, breathing in the salty air and leaning down to pick Nirina’s bag up.  I picked a nice smooth place where the tide did not yet reach and pulled her laptop and my notes from the main pocket.

Nirina lounged in the waves, her scaled legs merging into one dark black and burgundy tail.  She stayed there for a moment, drinking in the sun and letting the water rush over her face over and over again before she turned around and rested her elbows in the wet sand.

“Hey, when’s your scholarship-thingy deadline?”  she asked.

“A week and a half.”  I said, biting my lip as I typed.

“Really?”  Nirina said, raising her eyebrows.  “That soon?  You’ll need at least that long to mail it.”

I grimaced.  “I know.”

“So mail it tonight!”  Nirina said, flipping her fin over her head.

“It’s not ready…”  I mumbled.

Nirina rolled her eyes and groaned.  She swiveled around and went leaping across the waves like a skipping stone.  I typed what I had written in my notes and then set to work revising again.  The sun dipped lower in the sky and Nirina went swimming from one end of the beach to the other.

When I lost all of my natural light, I closed the laptop with a sigh.  Nirina slipped her clothes back on and walked up the beach.

“Low tide.”  she said with a cross frown.  “I guess it’s time to get back.  So are you done?”

“I… I could have Daria read it again.”  I said, standing to my feet.

Nirina shook her head, snorting.  She steered us away from my little shack on the way back home and towards the library, where after some coaxing she got me to print out a clean new copy. 

Then, when we reached my home, I filled out the rest of the application.  Nirina opened the mailbox.  I took a deep breath, and sealed all of my documents into an addressed envelope.  I hesitated before laying them in.

“Perhaps… if I had Mr. Peters revise his letter of recommendation…”  I started, drawing my hand back.

“Sophia.”  Nirina said firmly, her eyes darkening.  “Mail the stupid application.”

I dropped the envelope in the mailbox and then shut it quickly.  Oddly enough, I felt even more nervous now that the application was in the mail.

The next few weeks I felt almost aimless.  Without my essay and application to preoccupy me, I fell back into a relaxed routine.  I would read in the mornings and work in the afternoons, all the while waiting with baited breath for my answer to arrive.

Then, one Friday morning, it came.  I opened the mailbox to get the bills and I saw it there, resting in the middle of them.  I held my breath as I tore it open.

Then I was flying, dancing across my meager front lawn with the widest smile on my face.  I clutched my acceptance letter close to my chest. 

I spent the whole day impatiently watching the minutes tick by until Reece would arrive.  Just an hour before sunset, I saw his ugly Jalopy turning the corner and I went bolting across the street to meet him.  

He slammed on the brakes when he saw me, his eyes bugging out of his sockets.  When he got out of the car, I waved the letter.

“I’m coming with you in the fall!”  I said, breathless.

“Really?”  Reece squealed.  He sounded so much like a child that it made me laugh.

“Really!”  I repeated.

He wrapped his arms around me, lifted me up and spun me in the circle, both of us laughing all the while.

Chapter Seven: Encounter

Being employed was an incredible confidence-booster, and the job came just in the nick of time.  My friends would all be returning to university for the spring semester, leaving me alone for much of the week.  Reece had volunteered to take the semester off and continue to help me get settled, but I could not ask that of him.  With my new job, I finally had a handle on some independence.  Even so, Reece promised he would return every weekend that he was able.

I told him that he should concentrate on his studies in order to avoid failing classes again, but in truth...

I would be looking forward to his visits.

Every morning I would get up early, and when I was not scheduled to work I would walk down to the library.  I spent hours poring over all of the books I could find on medicine and science.

With the occasional venture into recreational fiction.

I taught myself to use a computer.  That had been an interesting experience.

At Tome Traders I stocked the shelves with books, assisted customers in finding specific materials, and worked the cash register.   

Mr. Peter's was a wondrous employer.  He was all-too eager to talk about books, and even encouraged me to read when there were no customers to wait on and no tasks to be completed.  

He was also rather forgetful and prone to lose track of where he had put things.  It made my job all the more interesting.

For the first month, I was utterly consumed by my thirst for knowledge and my desire to devour more of it occupied most of my thoughts throughout the week.  However, as the days wore on and I fell into a familiar routine, I began to feel pangs of loneliness.  

Mr. Peters was pleasant company and I considered him a great friend, but I still felt isolated.

I found myself waiting with anxious anticipation for Friday evening when Reece would arrive, smiling and bright-eyed, at my front door.   

Sometimes he would bring one of the others, when their schedules were clear, but typically it was just him.  He almost never missed a weekend, and when he did I would feel downhearted until the following Friday.

“I found Scholarship I would be able to apply for.”  I told him one Friday evening over a meager dinner I had prepared for us.  I was still getting the hang of cooking, but Reece hardly ever complained.  “The only requirement is an essay.  Though... it is on modern medicine.  I may have to do additional research.”  I added, biting my lip.  “But it would cover tuition for the first semester.”

“When's the deadline?”  Reece asked, putting down his fork.

My face fell.  “In one month.  I may not be able to make it.”

Reece shook his head.  “You could!  And if you get accepted, you could even come with us in the fall.”

The fall!  Oh, how I wanted to be well on my way to becoming a healer by the time the fall arrived.  I took his plate and walked over to the sink, turning the idea over in my head.

“Perhaps if I spent every morning in the library... and then had Daria and Mr. Peters help me with proofreading... Oh but what if I am rejected?”  I said, my shoulders falling.

Reece clucked his tongue, shaking his head.  “Always with the negative.  If you get rejected, I'll sell the rest of my elixir collection and you'll join us in the fall anyway.”

I dropped the plates with a clunk and turned around with mouth open and eyes wide.

“No!  You require those to pay for your own education!”  I said, shaking my head.

Reece laughed.  “Alright, alright...”  he said, standing to his feet.  “So what are you reading now?”  Reece tilted his head to the side as he examined the cover of the book sitting on the counter.  A crease appeared on his brow and he smirked.  “Is that a romance novel?”

I snatched the book up from the counter and put it behind my back.

“No!”  I said.  Reece raised his eyebrows and my shoulders slumped.  “Yes.”  I admitted.  “It's... It's Pride and Prejudice.”

“So where's Mr. Darcy's shirt?”

My face flushed and I slid the book back into place on the bookshelf.  Reece laughed, holding up his hands.

“Okay... okay...  You read whatever you want, miss its-improper-to-live-with-a-young-bachelor.”

I smacked him in the face with the nearest pillow.

True to my word, I spent the mornings working on my essay.  I took my research materials to work with me and made notes while managing the register.  Within a week I was able to finish a first draft, but I was displeased with it and I tore it apart with revisions.  The deadline crept closer.

It so happened one afternoon while studying a textbook listing the side-effects of commonly prescribed medications at the register, that I caught a flash of dark raven hair out of the corner of my eye.  I looked up and turned my head.

I only saw her for a moment, but I felt a jolt constricting in my chest.  She turned the corner around the shelf and was out of sight, but I had seen her long black hair and her cream-colored skin.  There was no mistaking the resemblance.

It was impossible.

I slipped out from behind the counter and crept around the bookshelf.  I half-expected her to vanish into thin air, but there she was, tapping her foot to a silent beat with her nose in a book she had pulled from the shelf.  She was the spitting image of Kitsune, prophetess of the valley, in the prime of her youth.

My mouth went dry.  I wanted to say something, to call out to her and get her attention.  But what was there to say?  She could not possibly be the prophetess.  Kitsune had wasted away and died before I did.  Even her children would be long gone.

I had just resolved to try and casually ask if she required help when someone cleared their throat behind me and I whirled around.

The man who had called for my attention was tall with intense blue eyes.  Long gray hair reached down to his broad shoulders, though his face was smooth with youth.  Just a pace behind him, another man stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“May I help you?”  I said, feeling my shoulders slump.

The woman turned her head for a moment and I caught a glimpse of her face.  Her eyes were wrong, a natural blue instead of Kitsune's inhuman amber.  It was only a glance, in another moment she looked away and slid the book she had been reading back on the shelf, turning to walk further into the psychology section.

“I have a book on hold.”  the man said, his voice deep and rich.  It caught me off-guard.  I blinked, and then tried to smile as I walked back towards the register.

“What is your name?”  I asked.

I turned back to look at him over my shoulder.  His face twisted, his frown deepening and his eyes growing narrow as though he had found my question offensive.  My steps faltered.  

“Stenberg.”  the other man said, turning around and moving up to the counter.  “It's under the name Thane Stenberg.”

I forced a smile again and then ducked my hand down under the counter.  I flipped through the books on hold and found the one with “Stenberg” written on its sticky note.  It was the only book on the shelf wrapped in a protective sleeve of plastic.  I drew it out and could not help glancing at it.  Its cover was leather, and embossed words in a different language were carved into the front.

I swallowed and held the book out to the man who stood at the counter.  He gave me a returning smile, one that was warm and inviting.  He was handsome, and I felt my face flush.

“H-here.”  I stammered.

The handsome stranger reached to take the book from my grasp, but the gray-haired man snatched it out of my fingers first, throwing an icy glare in his direction.  The stranger's eye's narrowed and he let out a breathy snort, but he made no move to take the book back.

“That will be one-thousand, eight hundred, and fifty-four dollars.”  I said, cringing as I read from the note.

The stranger turned his gaze back to me and reached into his coat.  With a smirk, he tossed a large wad of hundreds on the counter.  He leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, relishing in my wide-eyed bewilderment.

I fumbled as I counted the money, my hands shaking.  I lost count twice and had to start over, apologizing in short, flustered breaths.

“You look familiar.”  the first man said, glancing up from the book.  “Have you worked here long?”

A hundred slipped out of my grasp and fluttered to the floor.  I leaned down to pick it up, shaking my head as I did.

“No... only since... since January.”   I replied, opening the cash drawer and putting the hundreds away.  My hands shook less as I tucked them into the drawer in a neat stack.

His lips pursued together, and he seemed to be studying me.  My throat felt dry and I tried to smile.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Sophia...”  I said, but I stopped short.

The snide voices of the numerous people who had scoffed at my full name replayed in my mind.  

I swallowed, forcing myself to appear pleasant.  “... Lewis.”

The gray-haired man’s expression remained indifferent.  I swallowed, gesturing down to the book.

“Uhh… please enjoy your book.”  I said, nodding my head.  I lay my hands down on the counter.

The handsome stranger surprised me by reaching over and clasping my hand in his.  My heart skipped a beat as my eyes flickered upward to meet his own.  His expression was warm, enticing.  He gave my hand one firm shake.  His skin was rough, like leather hide.

“It was a pleasure to meet you… Sophia.” he said, an alluring grin on his face.  “I hope we will run into each other again.”

I was speechless.  I could only nod my head, my face heated with a furious blush.  He drew his fingers out from mine and stepped backward.

The gray haired man snapped the book closed, and without another glance towards me, whirled around to the door.  His long dark coat billowed in his wake.

The scent of wood smoke tickled my nose.  I flinched, biting the inside of my lip and holding my breath until both men had retreated out the door.