Warning: This work has been rated 16+.
Author's Note: Just a nice short loosely inspired by the events of the day. Enjoy! :)
The Little Lady Who Reads.
Eric felt the depths of his chest begin to pulsate more and more violently as he paced back and forth across the tile floor of the bathroom stall. The low hissing of running sink faucets and the mechanical drone of the air conditioner danced wildly through the unkempt meadows of his fleeting mind. "Fourth period," he murmured to himself, "Fourth period indeed." The boy wiped a few cool beads of perspiration from his forehead before coming to an abrupt halt in front of the stall door. As he extended his hand towards the shiny metal latch, he felt the candid rhythms of his heart rise and fall like the ebb and flow of a midnight tide. Eric let out a deep sigh before sliding the latch to the side and inching his way out into the bathroom's main corridor.
"Hey, kid," came a voice that was just as deep as it was unfamiliar "You wanna get a move on? I gotta' have this place sparkling before I can go to my lunch break." Eric adjusted his tie and brushed off his uniform coat before looking up at the man. It was Mr. Smith, the school janitor and one of the only people on campus at Wellesley Prep who didn't mind talking to him on any given day. The boy gave a long, hard swallow and lightly cleared his throat before responding.
"I know, Mr. Smith," he began in a voice that was lost somewhere in between a sigh and a whisper "I just need to wash my hands."
"Any dumbass could've told me that," replied the janitor "Just make it quick. I've gotta meet the boys for burritos in thirty minutes." The man rubbed his unshaven chin and glared hard at Eric. It was almost as if the negative space between life and death could have been found within the space between his large, dark eyes.
"No prob, Mr. Smith," said Eric obediently "Clean hands are happy hands." As he turned on one of the sink faucets and began to scrub away, the boy could see the man cross his arms and shake his head in the mirror. No matter how frustrated Mr. Smith would become, however, Eric couldn't afford to waste any bit of his emotional energy on this man. He would need to save as much of that as he could for later. "There," he ejected as he held both hands up in front of the janitor's face. "All clean and most certainly all happy."
"Great. Now beat it." Before Eric could muster a response, the shrill blaring of the school bell signaled the end of the passing period and the end of the most agonizing test of the young man's patience.
---
Eric smiled from ear to ear as he grabbed his backpack and began to make his way over to the library patio. Those familiar words bounced playfully throughout his mind: "Fourth period. Fourth period, indeed." Today was just like every other day at Wellesley. There were forty-three minute classes and the campus seemed to be alive with the breakneck pace of college preparatory life. For Eric, however, this next forty-three minutes would be the difference between absolute euphoria and utter defeat; between dear life and frigid death.
The wispy branches of the plum trees swayed back and forth in pleasant disarray as the gentle Springtime breeze lightly caressed their trunks. Eric brushed a thin blanket of light pink flower petals off of one of the patio benches before laying his backpack down and taking a seat. Once again, he felt the rhythms of his heart rise and fall within the deepest confines of his weary chest. It was finally time; it was finally fourth period. The boy reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a golden ballpoint pen along with the small, green journal his mother had given him for his birthday the previous year. Just as he pressed his pen to the paper and began to write, Eric caught sight of the very person he had been waiting to see all day or, rather, all his life. Across the patio, shaded under the largest and most vibrant plum tree and deeply engrossed in an unidentifiable novel, sat Ms. Trevor, the Library Assistant and the object of Eric's deepest affections. The boy pulled at his shirt collar and fiddled with his hair a bit before taking a deep breath. Fresh beads of sweat began to accumulate upon his forehead. "Pull it together, Eric," he whispered to himself "It's time." He placed his pen inside of his journal and laid them down upon the bench. Before he could give it one more thought, Eric began to float towards her as an immature moth floats towards a flickering bug light.
---
"Uh, hello," he began hastily "I'm Eric Johnson. You might've seen me in the library every now and then. I like to go there. Reading is fun. Or well, books are fun." As the young lady looked up from her novel, Eric felt his entire body go numb. It was almost as if he was carrying the entire weight of the world within his heart and that a reassuring smile from Ms. Trevor was the only thing that could relieve him of his burden. The boy's feet shuffled a little bit as he struggled to not to look away from her.
"Oh hi, Eric," she chuckled lightly, "I'm Ms. Trevor. I like to go to the library a lot too...I mean, I sort of work there." Eric's palms grew damp as he peered thoroughly into her eyes. It was as if everything he had ever dreamed of could have been found somewhere within the depths of those deep brown pools of intelligent wonder, hidden behind the palisades of vapor-thin frames. The soft smile upon her light pink lips drew him deeper and deeper into an elated state of confusion and a few slivers of golden sunlight danced happily atop her short, autumn-colored hair. Eric cleared his throat and straightened his tie once again before responding in the same hushed tone he had used with Mr. Smith earlier.
"So, what book are you reading?" The young lady let out a thoughtful sigh as she closed her novel and sat up straight on the bench. Eric's foot had finally stopped tapping, but the hot whips of panic were not yet ready to release him from their vice grip. He clenched his fists and bit his lower lip in preparation for her response.
"Well," she began softly "It's called Looking For Alaska."
"Oh," replied the boy excitedly "That's cool. I've never read anything about Alaska. I don't know much about it except that it's cold."
"No, silly," chuckled Ms. Trevor "There's a girl in the book named Alaska. It's not about the state." The boy's jaw dropped as he placed a dampened palm to his forehead. How could he have been so stupid as to think it was about the state? There's nothing cool about Alaska. Besides, no one as beautifully intelligent as Ms. Trevor would be so invested in a tourism brochure anyway. Just as he was about to offer an endless series of apologies for this mishap, Ms. Trevor did something he never could've seen coming. The short young library attendant reached up and placed her hand on his shoulder. It felt warm, but this wasn't just any warmth. It was the kind of warmth that starts at the surface of the skin before making its way into the tangling catacombs of a sleepy heart.
"Hey," she smiled tenderly "No worries, buddy. Most of the students don't talk to me you know. It's nice to see kids interested in books." Every fiber of Eric's being roared to life and the boy let out his first laugh in a very long time. Even so, he couldn't shake his disappointment at the fact that the woman of his dreams had referred to him as a "kid." How was she ever supposed to love him if she couldn't get past the age difference? Besides, he was almost 18; he was an adult and she ought to treat him as such. Eric put on his most serious face before speaking in a low and dignified tone.
"Thanks, Ms. Trevor," he began "But it's really no big deal. Books are my life. I love them." The young lady brushed a single strand of light red hair from between her eyes and frowned softly at the boy. Every last bit of the nervousness which he had hoped to conceal from her came rushing to the surface and his cheeks became hot with affectionate embarrassment. Ms. Trevor licked her lips and stood up from the bench to look Eric in the eye. He had never been so close to her before. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined. The sweet aroma of strawberry lotion enveloped his senses and her deep brown eyes seemed to peer even further into the confines of his soul.
"You know," she began quietly "I've been meaning to ask you this." The young man struggled to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest and into her arms as he braced himself for what she would say next. "What do you think is the best thing about reading a good book?" Upon hearing this question, Eric let out a series of nervous chuckles and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end.
"Well," he replied meekly "I think it's...It's...I don't really know." The boy turned his head to the side in an attempt to hide his shame. Ms. Trevor stood looking up at him with compassionate curiosity.
"Come on," she encouraged him "What is it, Eric?" The young man gritted his teeth and clenched his fists before responding.
"I think it's the journey." he exhaled. The boy let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Ms. Trevor smile from ear to ear.
"Gold star!" she ejected "You've gotten it on the very first try." Just as Eric was about to ask if he could take a seat next to her on the bench, the deafening toll of the clock tower beckoned the beginning of the passing period and the end of his little daydream. Ms.Trevor sat back down and quickly gathered her things before turning to make her way back up to the library.
"Sorry, buddy," she teased, her back turned towards him, "It looks like I've gotta go move some stacks." Eric wanted to say something more to her, but he was immobilized by a profound feeling of anxious regret. The boy fingered the "W" on the lapel of his jacket before looking across the patio towards his backpack and journal. His belongings sat sleepily beneath a thin layer of flower petals and a gentle breeze caressed the side of his face. By the time he had turned back to look at Ms. Trevor, she had already gone. Eric placed a single hand over his heart. The low tremor of his heartbeat mimicked a series of somber cries. "It's okay, Eric," he cried softly to himself "She'll understand sooner or later. You're not a kid."
---
As he walked home from school that evening, Eric peered longingly into the pink-orange clouds. The sunset air felt cool against his face and a nearby pile of many-colored flower petals danced playfully across the sidewalk. The young man let out a deep sigh as he pulled his pen and journal out of his coat pocket and sat down upon the icy concrete. He lightly licked his lips before pressing the pen to the paper and beginning to write:
"In my lifetime, I have met many people and seen many things, none of which could ever parallel what I had seen earlier today. She was just as tender as she was mild and just as sweet as she was brilliant. I need to see her again and I will. I can't go on without her, the little lady who reads."
The End.
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125,022 Literary Works • 672,747 Reviews
"JUST MY IMAGINATION / RUNNIN' AWAY..."
Straight from their "Sky's the Limit Album," The Temptations knew what they were talking about; sometimes the right woman comes along and causes our imaginations to run off the deep end. Such is the case when a certain librarian's assistant crosses the path with a particular student at a typical college prep school in "The Little Lady Who Reads."
THE HOOK -
Sometimes everything has to be perfect... or at least we tend to trick ourselves into thinking that way. If we comb our hair just right, adjust our collar, and practice our lines enough times in the mirror, we feel that by the time we meet our challenge, at least we've managed to get ourselves under control. So when we open on our protagonist pacing nervously in the bathroom stall before fourth period, it's a situation not foreign to most. The intrigue lies in how everything will pan out.
THE STORY -
Our protagonist has a woman he fancies, and within this story, Mr. Eric Johnson has resolved to finally talk to her.
After much anticipation, young master Johnson doesn't just go for another student, but he aims high; the librarian's assistant. He does his best to be composed, show he is worthy of... talking to her, being with her, marrying her? To paraphrase The Joker in the Dark Knight, "... I just chase cars; I wouldn't know what to do with one when I caught it."
As the tone suggests the story is innocent enough, the infatuation of boy for woman leads to its expected conclusion; the bell rings, and another day ends. That's why they call them crushes.
THE GIST -
This is an honest vignette of what appears to be an average adolescent male braving to make contact with a woman. As part of the collective male herd, the process of approaching a woman begins with fascination; a sweaty and nervous fear of something unknown, and also beautiful. The next step of course is speculation: surely this unknown beautiful thing must be all the wonderful perfect things I've been imagining all along, right?
So with wild speculation, and a misconception of one's own self, we (as typical average males) approach with thick lenses crafted from our imagination of what said women should be, rather than is. The next step of course is heart break, frustration, anger, and occasionally a renewed sense of determination.
These lenses of what we as males want to see, typically blind one from experiencing genuine interaction. For example; when Eric meets Ms. Trevor, his preoccupation with presenting himself as what he thinks Ms. Trevor wants becomes an obstacle to seeing who Ms. Trevor is. As example by Eric, "[putting] on his most serious face before speaking in a low and dignified tone."
This work suggests that it's not so much about acting a certain way to attract a certain woman, but understanding that one should not let conversation or interaction be blinded by one's imagination. Instead of having an agenda or goal (i.e. I'm gonna make this girl mine), interacting with women should begin with an honest open desire for discovery to understand who said woman really is as a person.
OR
It's a story about a boy with a crush, and he ain't taking no for an answer.
THE CRITIQUE -
This story is full of great descriptions from the condition of the protagonist before meeting the little lady who reads, to the environment, constructing a really clear scene and character. At times, it goes too far. Over description is an issue that is not lost on the author; he is aware. However, it is not just a matter of being too descriptive, but also breaking up the paragraphs so that they don't weigh down the pace of the plot.
Varying sentence structure, and paragraph length allow for the story to flow with greater ease, like jazz; a short break here, a breathy solo there keeps things interesting. Big chunks of story tend to cause drowsiness in most readers.
Sadly, each description is in fact beautiful in its own right, which tends to make cutting any particular line all the more difficult and painful for the author. But, such is the joys of editing.
THE END -
It's a classic tale, boy wants girl, and he is his own obstacle. The choice to include a reference to "Looking for Alaska" seems to indicate the author's own self awareness of the message he's going for. Despite some rather lengthy paragraphs, this author clearly has the gift.
Truly this author has the desire and the ability to "write like his soul depends on it."
Hahahah. Thanks so much. This is literally my favorite review I have ever gotten XD. I was listening to that exact temptations song while reading this! (Trippy, huh?) Phew. Fun one to read.
No problem man, it's a good piece. Keep up the good work!
The paragraphs/sentences are a little long. I would advise to cut some of them in half. Because I know at least for me, it throws me off and I kind of didin't want to read it because of how long it looked. Other than that, it is great! It really is a good long short story!
Yeah. This is actually the revised version. It was even wordier b4 lol. Thanks for reading though and I'm glad you liked it.
Ooh, this made my heart hurt. It's not at all a sappy romance, it's very real and understandable. Your writing is lyrical, and perfectly describes Eric's crush. I'm sitting here wondering if she likes him back! It is pretty wordy, but I personally think that it works with the style of the writing. You choose your words so carefully, but it pays off brilliantly in the end. The ending was well thought out too. I love agonizing over unhappy endings just about as much as I love gushing over happy endings, and I personally think that unhappy endings are generally much more believable than happy ones. I loved this piece of writing. Absolutely fantastic, seriously. Fantastic.
Thanks!
I've really worked hard to develop an aesthetic style of writing. I'm glad u liked it. 
Thanks!
I've really worked hard to develop an aesthetic style of writing. I'm glad u liked it. 
quick note: its not very hard to pack more and more words into a sentence until you get the meaning just right. to write descriptions that are short and punchy now, that is a bit more difficult
basically you arent leaving the reader much space for imagination, however that isnt always a bad thing. but before I turn this into a review, ill just say it was well written and be off.
PLEASE PUT THIS IN THE LITERARY SPOTLIGHT! That oughta get their attention... Now, I wish I could physically express how utterly impressed I am with this piece (but this is the internet). In my view, it is perfect. Each line seemed tended to with care and affection like a gardener tends his flowers. It truly warmed my heart, and I am not usually one who goes for the gushy, romantic stories. God, this piece is so amazing; at the end I was smiling so much. Bravo!
I love this part. It reminded of how I sometimes feel when a crush comes near me, or hugs me. That warm feeling that just gets inside of you... It's so nice. Gosh, I feel like crying because I think it describes my feelings so well! It's rare to do that to a reader, you know?You've captured the very common situation of teen angst very well. Also, the way you write about the guy's crush on the librarian is absolutely relatable. You changed the way I thought people got crushes on people. I always thought that girls were the ones who got those fluttery feelings in their heart's about people, and were always nervous around their crushes.
Though it may not be necessary, I believe there should be a comma between "me" and "you know".
And gosh, him going to chart his experiences afterwards? I know I shouldn't put myself in the character's shoes, but that feels so much like me!
I disagree with the other reviewers-- the words in it are perfect. Everything about it is perfect.
I'm glad this is a short story, and I am glad that he doesn't get with the librarian in the end, because I think that would ruin the believability of it all. This is going to be one of the other pieces I keep with me-- as in, I'll remember it when I am experiencing moments like the guy in the story.
This piece is magical.
LOVE! <3
Don't ever stop writing. : )
Hi! there GreenLight24
..
Whoa... it felt as if the words and you are one-- you collaborated flawlessly. The emotions, scenes and characters are well described that it made me feel like I was personally there, witnessing it all. Thus, it depicts the battle against oneself to show a casual or brave front while having a nerve-racking control of sentiment on the inside. You just portrayed the uneasiness of a person before confessing, the inconsistent emotion during the talk and the indescribable joy after a smooth chat.
Nice work.
Keep on writing
Thanks! I'm glad you liked it.
It's very, very wordy. Just after reading your first sentence I could tell that you like imagery, but try to keep it short and simple, or at least break it down into smaller sentences. Not trying to be rude, but it was honestly hard to focus on what you were talking about! The sentences are way to winded. Try writing like how you talk: Use detail when needed, but cut the trivial stuff. Otherwise, I liked the story. I didn't know at first what kind of story it would be, but then I understood. It's the kind of love story that doesn't have to tell of daring acts of bravery or stolen kisses by the moonlight. It's the kind of love story that we hope to live everyday. Eric is a hero that we can all relate to. We've all had that moment when we were so scared to do something, and overcame it, even if the triumph wasn't all the glory we expected. Brilliant story, GreenLight 24!
totally. I feel u on that lol.
Thanks!
I really liked this piece! It flowed really well and keeps a good pace so you want to read on. I thought your use of imagery was great and effective as it was easy to imagine and see the scenes the way you did. I also thought you pitched the characters excellently which made the reader interact more with the story
I loved it!
Thanks a lot.
I'm glad you liked it.
You're welcome! I did