Brothers Keep Her

Lucky Catch

The library is full of co-eds with deadlines when you arrive. You don't like imposing on other people's study space so you look for an empty table. To your dismay, there are none on the main floor. That doesn't bode well for the tables upstairs, either. The group closest to you looks up as you walk by, still in your black pants and polo. You didn't have time to go home and change after work. You probably smell like the roasted coffee beans you ground up today, or the latte that you spilled on your shoe first thing in the morning, but you don't care right now. You ignore them and head for the stairs in the back. The section you need is up on the second floor anyway. 

You circle around to the front  where the mythology books collect dust, enveloped in the sweet notes of almond and vanilla that you can never get enough of. 

You find one empty table hidden away behind a few rows of bookshelves and you claim it before someone else does. You scan book bindings, looking for anything with the word "dragon" in it. You wonder now if you should have chosen a safer topic to write your final paper for World Mythology class. That's what happens when you get too excited about something, and you've always loved mythology. 

One by one, you pull books from the shelves, sending tiny dust particles swirling in the still air around you. A beam of sunlight from the skylight overhead makes the dancing dust gleam. You sit down at your table with a stack of old, hardcover books on dragon lore. You can't work when it's too quiet, so you pull your phone out of your purse and plug in your earbuds. You play your collection of upbeat instrumental music that helps you focus when you work. You dig your laptop out of your backpack and crack open that first book. 

Two hours and fifteen pages of notes later, the library page comes around with an arm-full of books he's returning to the shelves. He tells you the library closes in fifteen minutes. You pull your earbuds out to thank him and pack up your things. You know exactly which three books have to come home with you tonight, so you put the rest back. With your bags on your shoulders and the books in your arms, you make your way back to the stairs. The quiet up here has a thickness to it that messes with the pressure in your ears. You clear your throat as softly as you can. Just as you reach the top of the stairs, Sam pops out from behind a bookshelf shrugging his bag back onto his shoulder. 

You want to say hello, but you don't know if you should, and while you fret over this, you miss the first step. Your heart lurches into your throat as you fall, clutching your pile of books and trying to grab the railing. Lucky for you, Sam is quick. He manages to jump over the railing and snatch your backpack, saving you from the dangerous nose-dive. Both of you sprawled on the steps, you watch your discarded books tumble toward the main floor. 

"You okay?" he asks you, still hanging on to your back pack. You can feel the tension in the straps. 

Your eyes are wide. You're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. You nod. "Yeah. Thank you." You grab the railing and Sam grabs your wrist to help you up. He towers over you now, standing one step above you. You're still shaking, but you need to get down these steps. 

"Hey, aren't you..? Didn't I just see you at the coffee shop?" he asks with that same one-eyed squint and upturned mouth. 

You laugh a little nervously. "Yes. How was your panini?" What a dumb thing to say, you scold yourself.

"It was great. Hit the spot. Here," he says as he extends his arm to you. 

You hook your hand in the crook of his elbow, and together you walk down the stairs, fetching your books along the way.

"Into dragons?" he asks you as he hands the last one over. 

"Uh, I'm writing a paper," you say. You hope he doesn't think you're weird. "I had this crazy idea that I could write a paper proving they actually existed somewhere in the world at some point. Don't know what I got myself into."