Once they were alone, Stella looked at Jack. Why did Ariel think he was a love interest? Or was she picking up on Stella’s infatuationwith the fictional Jack? Just the idea made her feel unstable. She placed the selenite on the desk out of sight from anyone.
“What did you mean when you said you’ve seen my words for years?”
Jack’s hazel eyes never left her face, and he gave no indication of deceit when he said, “This isn’t the first time I’ve visited the library. Arnie’s brought me here before.”
“How many times?” Stella asked, surprised by how dry her mouth had gone.
“Ten to twelve, probably. Not every year, and I didn’t always see you when I was here, but I think you were eight or nine when I first saw you.”
Chapter 10
Stella stared at Jack. Doubt and shock plumed inside her. Words tumbled through her mind, none of them forming quickly into sentences.
“This must surprise you,” Jack said, ending the silent stretch of awkwardness.
“Let’s swapsurpriseforflabbergastand agree that it’s still not equal to what I’m feeling right now. You expect me to believe you’ve known me since I was a kid? You look about my age—”
“I’m twenty-seven,” Jack said.
Stella’s harsh laugh echoed through the main room, bouncing off the tiles and flying back toward them. “I’m older thanyou? Yet somehow you’ve known me since I was eight or nine.” A tremble started in her core and spanned out through her limbs. One more shake and she just might fall apart. “I think... I think you should leave. Arnie would have told me. It’s too much, you pretending to know me—”
“You and Percy used to come here every Saturday when you were kids,” Jack said. “And Arnie acted like he didn’t know you were theones building forts out of books and paper towels taken from the restroom.”
Stella stopped breathing, and her back went as rigid as a bookshelf. Her jaw clenched.
Jack pointed toward the east wing of the library. “In the poetry section because you thought no one ever used those books, beneath the table nearest the supply closet.”
A chill shot through her. “How could you possibly know that? Did Arnie tell you?”
Jack continued, “I know Percy liked to pretend he was a knight with a sword made from cardboard. You humored him and pretended you needed to be rescued at least every other time. When Percy was a teenager and brought his first girlfriend to the library to show her around, you felt left out and sulked in the fairy-tale section until Arnie brought you a Dilly Bar and his favorite book.
“Arnie told me a lot of stories about you. That he made scavenger hunts for you after school and on the weekends while your father worked. I know that after your mother left, Arnie was especially worried about you. He liked having you around for multiple reasons, but he wanted to keep you close because he didn’t want to lose you to your sorrow.
“I saw your words even when you were little, but Arnie never mentioned them. Eventually I asked him about it. He can’t see them. But I knew—Isaw—how the words appeared and how you’d light up. They kept you company and filled your mind with hope.”
Stella could hear the faraway echoes of Percy’s laughter in the foyer, around the shelves, and drifting down from the second floor. She imagined their tennis shoes slapping against the tiles as they raced for the staircase in search of the next scavenger hunt clue. She thought of all the books she’d read in an attempt to disappear into those worlds when living in her own became too challenging, too dark.
“Stop,” she said. “I don’t know how you know these things—”
Jack held out his arms, palms up and facing her, a sign of surrender, of peace. “Because I’ve been here, Stella. Arnie brought me here for two weeks every few years, and sometimes I’d see you and Percy. But there were years when I didn’t see either of you, so Arnie would update me. And now... now you’re all grown up and sadder than I’ve ever seen you.”
Stella inhaled sharply, feeling vulnerable, her heart too exposed. “I’m not sad. I’m...” What was she? Lost? Confused? Stuck? All of the above.
“You’re what? You used to be bursting with life and hopefulness. It was contagious.” He stepped toward her. “Arnie planned to tell you about me and all of this one day, but he kept putting it off. Now he can’t.”
Stella fiddled with a pearlescent button on her blouse, then caught Jack’s gaze. “What was he waiting for?”
Jack shrugged. “The right time?”
“Which is now only because he had a heart attack.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “If you’ve been coming here for years, why haven’t I seen you?”
“It’s all part of the way this plays out. We get good at hiding or blending in. Would you have noticed me without my uniform?”
“You’re hard to miss,” she said without thinking.
He grinned. “Am I?”
His eyes lit with interest, and the flutters returned. “Let’s assume I believe your story. You’re not the only character from a book Arnie has brought out?”
