Evelyn Harper
The library was quiet again, the kind of quiet that used to comfort me but now felt heavy with expectation. It had been two days since my last meeting with Theo, and I still couldn't shake the lingering energy he'd brought with him. His ideas, his enthusiasm, his ability to turn even the simplest conversation into something meaningful—it was unsettling how much it stayed with me.
I sat at my desk, flipping through the finalized schedule for the showcase. It was coming together better than I'd hoped, honestly. But instead of relief, all I felt was pressure. Pressure to make this work, to prove to James, to the council, to myself that I could save the library.
And then there was Theo. Working with him was... complicated. He challenged me in ways I wasn't used to, pushed me out of my comfort zone, and made me question whether my way of things doing was really the best way.
My pen tapped against the edge of my notebook as I stared at the photo on my desk—the one of my grandmothers. She'd always been so sure of herself, so certain about the importance of this place. I wondered if she would've seen Theo as a threat or an ally.
The familiar chime of the library door snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up, expecting one of my regulars, but instead, Claire strode toward me with her usual purposeful energy.
Claire Thompson, my best friend since high school, was the kind of person who could light up a room without even trying. She was all sharp wit and unwavering loyalty, with a knack for knowing exactly when I needed a reality check—and delivering it unapologetically.
"Claire," I said, setting my pen down. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving you from yourself," she declared, dropping into the chair across from my desk.
I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"You've been cooped up in here for days," Claire said, crossing her arms. "You need to get out. Breathe some fresh air. Talk to someone who isn't a book or Theo Sinclair."
My cheeks flushed at the mention of his name. "How do you even know about Theo?"
Claire smirked, clearly enjoying my reaction. "This is Willow Creek. I know everything. Besides, Edith was raving about how she saw you two having an 'intense conversation' in the library."
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Edith Lark, the town's self-appointed gossip queen, had a talent for exaggeration. She meant well, but her penchant for spreading dramatic tales made her a regular source of minor embarrassment.
"Edith needs a new hobby," I muttered.
"She's harmless," Claire said, waving it off. "But seriously, Evelyn, you need a break. When was the last time you did something just for yourself?"
I gestured to the pile of papers on my desk. "Claire, I don't have time for breaks. There's too much to do."
Claire leaned forward, her expression softening in a way that made it hard to argue with her. "You're not going to save the library by running yourself into the ground. Take one night off. Come to dinner with me."
I hesitated, glancing at the stack of work in front of me. The logical part of my brain told me she was right, but the anxious part screamed that every minute away from my desk was a minute wasted.
"Please," Claire said, her tone gentler now. "You deserve this."
After a long pause, I sighed. "Fine. But only for an hour."
Claire grinned triumphantly. "Deal."
Dinner with Claire turned out to be exactly what I needed, even if I didn't realize it at first. She took me to a small, cozy diner on the edge of town, where the smell of freshly baked pies filled the air and the waitstaff greeted us like old friends.
We slid into a booth near the window, and I found myself relaxing for the first time in days. The familiar hum of conversation around us felt comforting, a reminder that the world existed beyond the walls of the library.
"So," Claire said, digging into her slice of apple pie. "Tell me about Theo."
I nearly choked on my tea. "What?"
"Come on," she said, smirking. "You've been working with him nonstop. What's he like?"
"He's... fine," I said, keeping my tone deliberately neutral.
"Fine?" Claire repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's it?"
I hesitated, unsure how to put my thoughts into words. "He's... different. He has all these ideas, and he's not afraid to challenge me. It's frustrating, but... he makes me think."
Claire's smirk widened. "Sounds like someone's making an impression."
"It's not like that," I said quickly, though the warmth creeping up my neck betrayed me.
"Uh-huh," she said, clearly unconvinced.
Later that night, back at the library, I found myself sitting at my desk long after the building had closed. The photo of my grandmother stared back at me, a silent reminder of why I was doing this.
I picked up the schedule Theo and I had worked on, running my fingers over the neatly typed pages. For the first time, I allowed myself to feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this could work.
But the hope was quickly tempered by doubt. What if it wasn't enough? What if I wasn't enough?
I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes and letting the weight of the day settle over me. Change was terrifying, but staying the same might be worse.
As I sat there, the stillness of the library surrounded me, not as a burden, but as a quiet reminder: I didn't have to figure it all out on my own.