The substitute teacher dismissed us early, and as I made my way toward the library, I felt a familiar thrill of freedom. My last class was a spare, which meant I had 50 minutes to fill however I wantedâwithin the confines of the school, of course.
As soon as I entered the library, the familiar scent of aged books and polished wood enveloped me. I headed straight for the fiction section, eager to find something to dive into. Just as I reached for a book on the shelf, a voice whispered in my ear, sending a jolt of surprise through me.
"Hey!" I spun around to find Cayden standing there, a grin spreading across his face.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, half-exasperated, half-amused.
"Can't a guy go to a library?" he replied, his fingers flipping through the pages of a book he had snatched from the nearby shelf.
I rolled my eyes. "For a guy like you? I doubt it."
"Are you stereotyping me?" He raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.
"Depends on how you understand things," I said with a playful smirk, finally managing to snatch the book from his hands.
"Are you really going to just read that?" he asked, his tone teasing.
"I might," I replied, already walking toward the next aisle to browse for something more interesting.
I could feel him trailing behind me, the soft sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet space. "What do you want from me?" I asked, unable to suppress a groan.
"Nothing. Just searching through the library." He picked up a random book and flipped through its pages, only to return it to the shelf moments later. "I just want to spend my spare time with you. Is that so wrong?"
"Spend some spare time with me?" I let out a bitter laugh. "Why? People like you would rather hang out with the more exciting crowd."
"And you're not exciting?" he challenged, halting my progress.
"I didn't say that," I defended, turning to face him. "But you shouldn't be wasting your time with a book nerd like me. I'd rather be here for hours than socializing."
"Plus, I wouldn't want to risk your reputation," I added, half-joking.
Cayden suddenly stepped closer, pressing his palm against the bookshelf beside my head. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I met his gaze. "I don't care about my reputation when I'm with you," he said, his voice low and earnest.
My heart raced, pounding against my ribcage, a frantic rhythm I hoped he wouldn't notice. Just then, a group of students passed by, their whispers drawing my attention. I took a step back, brushing past him, and bumped his shoulder lightly.
"Why does he keep doing this?" I thought, frustrated. "Why does he keep getting under my skin? It's infuriating." I needed to shake off these thoughts before they consumed me. "Ugh," I groaned aloud.
"Shh!" The librarian shot us a disapproving look. I managed an innocent smile in return, knowing all too well that I had disrupted her precious silence.
"Some students are trying to study. Please keep it down, or I'll have to ask you to leave," she warned, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Geez, sorry," I muttered, scratching the back of my neck. I let out a resigned sigh, making my way toward the front desk to check out my book. "I'll return this by next week," I told the librarian as I handed over my library card.
"Leaving so early?" Cayden asked from behind me.
"Uh... I have somewhere to be," I replied, turning back to grab my card and book. "Thanks!" I called to the librarian as I walked toward the exit.
"Hey, where are you going? The bell hasn't rung yet," he called after me.
"Speaking of," I quirked an eyebrow, smirking at him. "Okay, I gotta go! I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." I quickened my pace, eager to escape.
"Can I at least come with you?" he asked, catching up to me.
"You wouldn't like it there," I said, my tone evasive.
"How can you say that?" He planted his hands on his hips, his expression a mix of challenge and curiosity.
"Because I can just tell," I defended, trying to sound convincing.
He closed the space between us, leaning in as if to test the tension hanging in the air. "Oh, really?" he teased, making it hard to breathe.
***
Cayden surprised me by suggesting we grab a coffee. "This place isn't so bad after all," he said as we entered the café, glancing around at the cozy atmosphere. I rolled my eyes, walking toward the counter to order.
"Hi, can I get an Iced Caramel Latte, please?" I smiled at the cashier, glancing back at Cayden. "Don't you want anything?"
"I'll have an Iced Americano," he replied, stepping closer to the counter.
The cashier looked a bit confused as Cayden shifted his attention back to her. "How much is it?" he asked.
"Uh... I'm sorry?" She shook her head, clearly flustered. "What did you order again?"
"Iced Americano," he repeated, pulling out his wallet. "How much for both?"
"Are you with her?" the cashier asked, looking back and forth between us.
"Yeah, so how much is it?" he pressed, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.
"I'll pay for it," I interjected, pushing a $20 bill across the counter before he could protest.
The cashier nodded, and I watched as she calculated the change. Just then, she leaned in slightly, looking at me with a hopeful expression. "So... are you single?" she asked, biting her lip.
I nearly choked on my drink. "Uh, excuse me?" I managed to sputter as Cayden chuckled.
"I'm heading out in a few minutes," she continued, glancing between us, clearly undeterred.
"So... is my order ready?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters.
The cashier shot me an annoyed look, and Cayden couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Sorry about my girlfriend here. She's just having her period, I think," he quipped, sending me rolling my eyes.
"Just in time!" a guy shouted from behind the counter. "One Iced Caramel Latte and one Iced Americano!"
I took my drink, sticking my tongue out at the cashier as I turned away, and headed to an empty table. Cayden slid into the seat across from me, a playful glint in his eyes.
"You should've given her your number," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "She was definitely drooling over you back there."
"Is someone jealous?" he teased, his smirk growing wider.
"Jealous? As if!" I shot back, unable to keep the smile from my lips.
"Ha! Jealous," he mocked. "You're cute when you're jealous."
"I'm not!" I protested, though my cheeks betrayed me.
After hanging out at the coffee shop for about an hour, I decided it was time to head home. Cayden insisted on giving me a lift since I had left my car at school, and I didn't see a reason to decline.
During the drive, the atmosphere was surprisingly quiet. I felt the need to ask him questions, to dig deeper into the layers of his personality, but I hesitated, not wanting to seem intrusive.
"Haven't you been to a café before?" I finally asked, glancing at him.
He shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm too busy for that kind of chill time," he replied, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
"Are you even human?" I said, incredulous.
He laughed softly. "But I really love the smell of coffee; it's calming."
That made me smile. I loved that he found something so simple comforting. "I get that," I said, feeling warmth spread through me.
As he drove, I couldn't help but study him. The way he focused on the road, the small movements of his hands on the wheel, the occasional sip of his drinkâit was all mesmerizing. There was something about him that drew me in, something beyond his carefree facade.
"Can't get enough of me, huh?" he joked, catching me staring.
I quickly averted my gaze, feeling heat rush to my cheeks. "Shut up," I mumbled, trying to hide my embarrassment.
He pulled over in front of my house, and I felt a rush of nerves as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Our eyes met, and I could sense a tension in the air that hadn't been there before.
"Hailey..." he said softly.
I glanced at him, searching his face for somethingâan answer, a clue. What was going on in his mind? Why did he keep me at arm's length, yet lean in so closely?
In that moment, I caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. It was as if he was struggling between wanting to connect and holding back, afraid of what that might mean.
"Why do I feel like he's hiding something?" I wondered, my heart racing. Does he have a story to tell? A story of a boy who has been hurt, yet still longs to break free?
As the weight of that thought settled over me, I realized how much I wanted to help him open up. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted him to see me as someone he could trust. Someone who could break through the barriers he had built around himself.
***
hello there, another update.
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-The Author