How to Meet Girls in the Library?

Goddamn, it’s so quiet in here that it feels like the silence is almost tangible. No, seriously. It’s like you dove into water, but instead of water there’s this empty smell and, from time to time, faint rustling, sniffing, and the sound of pages turning. Dead boredom. I’d never come here of my own free will.

*bzzz

My phone made a soft vibration sound, and I immediately caught the stare of one of the old men—probably some professor from my university. There were more of them here than flies on my grandpa’s farm. He looked over his glasses at me like I’d just spit on the first page of the book he was reading. I quickly checked the notification, realized it was just another spam message, and pretended nothing had happened, shifting my gaze back to the shelves where she was sitting.

To be honest, I didn’t even know her name yet. Well, I did know it, but I wasn’t sure it would help me in any way. I mean, it would be kind of weird to walk up to a stranger and say, “Hi, I’m Mike, and are you Alice or Elizabeth or just Ellie? I’ve been watching you for a while, and once I heard someone call you that. So is that your name, Ellie?” Yeah, that would be a total failure right from the start.

I shifted in my chair, and the traitorous creak of it scraping against the floor spread even louder across the entire reading room. Even she twitched a little, or… did it just seem that way to me? I didn’t have time to think before I heard a cough from that “professor,” or whatever he was. Obviously, that was aimed at me.

I was already about to say something, but I reminded myself why I was here and shifted my gaze back to her, afraid of catching some kind of judging look. But no. She was still sitting there in her beige cardigan thrown over a cream-colored blouse that hugged her lush breasts so damn sexily.

“Calm down. Don’t stare.”

I looked away for a second, but my thoughts stubbornly kept coming back to her. To how focused she was while reading. To how she would occasionally nudge her glasses up with a finger without even lifting her eyes from the page. God, I want her so bad. Ugh! No, that’s not the right word. Though in that sense, yeah, I want her too. What I mean is—just look at her, she’s pure perfection! Modest, smart, and with a body and a face like that! And most importantly—she doesn’t have a boyfriend! Can you imagine? She’s a walking jackpot!

Phew… Calm down. Calm down. Just don’t fuck everything up if you’ve already decided to introduce yourself, Mike, okay?

Okay… Great. Now I’m talking to myself. But then again, what else am I supposed to do? Still, I really should go up to her. Only… how do you even approach someone like that?

Ask about the book? No, that’s stupid. Say, “Wow, you’re reading that? Cool, I’m a fan too”? Ugh, I can already hear the cracking sound under my feet as I fall flat on my face in that moment. Maybe I could just pretend I lost something and I’m looking for it between the shelves? Yeah, sure, I’ll say: “Sorry, you wouldn’t happen to have seen my self-esteem lying around here? I think I dropped it somewhere near you.”

Shit. All of it is shit. I just need to be myself. No. Actually, the opposite—be cool. Yeah. Shy girls like her always go for bad boys. It’s a classic.

I looked at her again. She turned the page, frowned slightly, and the tip of her tongue touched her upper lip for a second—but to me it felt like she didn’t touch her lip at all, but my erogenous zone in that moment. I had to sharply look away and close my eyes before my heart jumped out of my chest.

Fuck.

— Calm down, — I whispered to myself. — Bad boy. Yeah… That’s our choice.

I stood up. This time without pauses, without rehearsing in my head. I just stood up and walked, like I had every right to. The shelves parted, the floor softly answered my steps, and with every meter a strange feeling grew inside me, like I wasn’t walking toward her, but toward a point of no return.

— Hi, — I said in a low voice, trying to give it a slight rasp. — You look like this reading room is your territory. Like a lioness in her pride.

She didn’t lift her gaze right away. First she slowly finished the line, then carefully marked the page with her finger, and only then looked at me. Over her glasses. Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and on her face there was no surprise—just a cold statement of fact: “another dumbfuck.”

— Lioness? — she quietly repeated, not changing her tone, — The zoo is three blocks away. This is a library.

I swallowed. My mouth suddenly felt empty.

— Just… — I smirked, hoping it looked bold and not like a nervous tic. — You don’t see someone every day who looks like they own the place.

She closed her eyes for a second, as if deciding whether to kick me out right away or first take me apart morally, piece by piece.

— Own the place, — she repeated slowly. Then she opened her eyes and looked straight at me. — Maybe you should just leave.

I froze for a moment, feeling everything inside tighten, warm sweat breaking out between my shoulder blades. But no. Leaving was definitely not an option. A bad boy doesn’t leave when he’s told to fuck off. A bad boy grins even wider.

— Leave? — I tilted my head slightly, looking down at her. — Seems to me like you’re bored. Sitting here for hours, flipping pages, and around you there’s nothing but dust and old men snoring over newspapers. At least I brought… some excitement.

She slowly took off her glasses, wiped them with the edge of her cardigan, and put them back on. Her gaze became even colder.

— Either you leave right now, — she began, — or I’ll ban you from this place forever.

The word forever clicked somewhere in my head, like a switch. I smirked, trying to hide the fact that everything inside was shaking.

— Wow, — I drawled. — Straight to a lifetime ban? Maybe you could at least tell me your name? Or no, wait. I’ll guess. Alice, right?

“Fuck, Mike, what the hell?! You didn’t want to give away that you know her name!”

She didn’t even blink. Not once. She just stared. Only the corner of her lips twitched slightly, showing not a smile, but something more unpleasant, like a mix of disappointment and fatigue.

— No, — she said calmly. — Not Alice.

A pause. Too short and too dense.

— And you just told me that you listen to conversations that have nothing to do with you.

“Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck.”

The “bad boy” plan was starting to crack, but I stubbornly clung to my grin like a life buoy.

— Oh, come on, — I spread my hands. — I was just passing by. My name’s Mike, by the way.

— I don’t care what your name is, — she cut me off instantly. — And I don’t care where you were “passing by.” You’re interrupting my work.

She spoke evenly, coldly, confidently, and for a moment I felt like a naughty schoolboy standing in front of a kindergarten teacher.

— Work? — I snorted. — You’re just reading.

She slowly exhaled through her nose, like she was counting to three so she wouldn’t say too much.

— I am working, — she repeated. — And you—

— Okay, okay, okay! I was joking, all right, — I interrupted her, frantically grabbing the first book I could reach from the shelf. — I just… here. See? I’m actually here for a reason.

She looked at the cover. Then at me. Then back at the cover.

— “Ancient Incan Rituals and Human Sacrifices”? — she asked in a way that made it clear that, in her mind, me and this book could never exist in the same room.

— Well… yeah, — I shrugged, trying to look confident and opening the book, pretending I knew what I was looking for. — Here. It’s… somewhere around here.

She silently watched my fingers quickly flip through the pages while I tried to look smart. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her left eyebrow lift, and I didn’t yet know how to take that, but I knew one thing—I wasn’t going to make a better move than this.

— Put it back, Mike.

— No-no, — I waved her off, feeling sweat bead at my temples. — I just want to show I didn’t come up for no reason. Look… here.

I jabbed my finger into a paragraph, trying not to look at her. My heart was pounding like I was standing in front of the dean again after a dorm party.

— This is… uh… about the connection between generations, — I started, stumbling over my words. — Like, or rather, about perception culture and— Anyway, listen.

— Stop it, — she said sharply. — You’re—

But I was already reading.

— Imbra, durka bur…

The words—or rather, their transcriptions—I was reading seemed to hook into me. I only wanted to read a few and stop, but the further I went, the stronger the urge to keep going spread inside me, like every word was hitting my dopamine receptors harder and harder.

At some point—or at least it felt that way—everything around me went dark. There was only me, the book, and her, who also seemed to freeze. No, she definitely froze with her mouth open, like she was saying something.

— Bara, brandaka…

My voice spread through the hall with a strange echo, like I wasn’t speaking with my mouth, but through a speaker hidden somewhere under the ceiling. I flinched at the sound myself, but I couldn’t stop anymore.

Everything around me seemed to slide backward. The shelves grew farther away, the ceiling higher, and the silence thicker. I felt warmth rising from inside, spreading across my chest, my stomach, my thighs.

— Bira, dur. BARA!

I finished by shouting the last word in a voice unnaturally high for me, like my vocal cords suddenly gave out without warning. In that moment everything around flashed with a bright white burst, and I, as if only then realizing how strange all this was, squeezed my eyes shut.

For a split second the world disappeared—no floor under my feet, no air in my lungs. There was only ringing in my ears and the feeling like I’d been spun sharply around my own axis, like a page in a book.

Then, almost immediately, everything came back: the solid ground under my feet, and even that library silence, which once again became tangible. Only… something was wrong.

— Are you okay? — I heard her voice, which this time sounded completely different, with a note of genuine concern, and much closer.

Her face was too close. So close that I could see the tiniest details—the small mole near her temple, the reflection of the lamps in her glasses, the tense crease between her brows. I instinctively jerked back… and immediately realized I did it not the way I used to.

My center of gravity was different, something heavy swayed on my chest, and the heels—fuck them—slid on the floor, and I barely kept my balance, flailing my arms.

Wait. What? Heels?

— WHAT THE FUCK!? — I screamed, dropping my gaze down and seeing a massive neckline with a deep cut of a burgundy blouse. Breasts—or rather, huge soft watermelons, heavy as fuck, soft, jiggling like jelly and noticeably bigger than any girl’s I’d ever seen in real life—rose and fell in time with my ragged breathing.

I reflexively tried to cover myself with my hands, but immediately realized I only made it worse: the blouse stretched even tighter, the fabric springily resisting, emphasizing what was already impossible to hide.

— Quiet! — the girl because of whom I was even here, and whom I’d completely forgotten in that moment, whispered in my ear and immediately pressed a finger to my lips when I looked at her. — Are you always like this?

Some kind of playful smile appeared on her face.

My heart was pounding, my breathing was uneven, and I sharply felt every movement of my own body—how my ass swayed with every breath, how long hair brushed my neck, and how my ankles tensed from the strain of the heels.

— I… — I started, but stopped short when I heard my own voice, which sounded soft and gentle. — I’m not…

— Shh, — she pressed a finger to my lips again, this time dropping her gaze lower, to my cleavage. — Hotties as you need to be more careful…

I swallowed.

— I’m not… — I tried again, and stumbled again. The voice came out smooth, soft, not mine. — I actually—

— Tss, — she leaned closer, but now she was looking straight into my eyes. — So, what did you say your name was?

— Sabrina, I told you, — I started, — I mean no. I’m Sabrina. Bri. Ugh! I mean, fuck, why can’t I say my own name?

She tilted her head slightly, watching closely as I got tangled in my own words.

— My name is Lina, — she began softly, pausing for exactly long enough to make me hold my breath without meaning to, — You’re very funny, Bri.

— Hey! Keep it down over there! This is a library, for god’s sake! — a loud old man’s voice rang out behind my back, making me flinch—and instantly regret it, because this body reacted way too much. My Breasts swung forward, heels clicked sharply against the floor, and some strangled sound slipped out of my throat, completely not mine. A few heads immediately lifted above the tables. Someone’s glasses flashed in our direction.

— Oh… — I breathed out, instinctively trying to sound quiet, but still way too high-pitched.

— Sorry, Mr. Barson, — Lina stepped in before I could force out anything coherent. Her voice was calm, polite, almost exemplary. — We won’t disturb anyone anymore.

— I hope so, — the old man grumbled without lifting his eyes from the newspaper. — Young ladies shouldn’t behave like that… — he vaguely waved his hand in our direction, — especially in a library.

I felt my ears burn. And my cheeks. And basically my whole face, all the way to the roots of my hair.

Ladies.

He said ladies.

— Come on, — Lina whispered, taking me by the arm and leading me somewhere behind the shelves, — my office is there, we can talk there.

— Your… what? — I said, stumbling and clicking my heels like a drunk party girl after a club, following her.

— Office, — Lina repeated calmly without even turning around, then added, pressing closer to me and smiling wide. — I’m in charge here. Didn’t I mention that?

Her shoulder brushed against my Breasts, and I felt that cursed weight again, that swaying that made me want to both hide and disappear. I immediately stumbled, but Lina held me up.

— Careful, — Lina said quietly, not slowing her pace. — Is this your first time in heels? — she stopped suddenly and looked straight into my eyes, — Did you dress up just for me?

— I… no… — the words got tangled again. I hated it. — It’s not… I didn’t dress up.

Lina was still holding me by the waist. Confidently. Like she had every right to. Her gaze slid down, then back up, and I literally felt like a piece of meat on a counter. That only made it worse.

— Mmm, — she drew out with a wide smile that clearly showed disbelief, — okay, okay.

— I. Lina. I. There was a book. I need to put everything back, I need to… — at that moment her hand slid lower, onto my ass, and she squeezed it sharply, so a short, startled breath burst from my throat—but my fucking nipples pulled tight against the lace bra and pushed out as two hard bumps under the blouse. I instinctively arched, trying to pull away, but that movement only made my Breasts sway again, heavy, full, and Lina gave a quiet chuckle, clearly noticing the bumps on my tits.

— Wow, — she almost sang, not removing her hand. — I think I’m already in love.

— In lo… in love?

My breath caught. God. This is what I wanted, right? Right? Or not? Or yes… fuck… what am I supposed to do?