And I was right. Save for one solitary clerk sitting behind the checkout desk, hunched over her phone with AirPods shoved in her ears, the library was empty as far as I could see.
Still, my skin prickled with the sensation of his heated gaze, and without warning, memories of that night in Berlin flooded my mind.
The way he smiled at me. Touched me. Held my gaze as he made me?—
“Lydia.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a hand plopped down on my shoulder.
But no… it wasn’t Artyom. I turned around to find the sleepy smile of Julian “Julz” O’Connor, the easygoing illustration and design major who’d been the resident dorm advisor my first year, until he got kicked out of the position under suspicion of selling weed to his advisees.
And, sure enough, the heavy flannel coat he wore open over a paint-splattered tee reeked of marijuana when he pulled me in for a warm hug.
“What are you doing here?” I asked excitedly while still keeping my voice down, even though the sole librarian really didn’t look like she could care less.
“I’m just finishing up this carrel commission that I won over six other applicants!” Julz didn’t bother to keep his own voice down as he let me out of the hug to wave a proud hand toward his artwork.
“Oh, wow, congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks, but what’s your excuse for being here on a Friday night?”
“Just trying to get a head start on the semester,” I answered with a wry chuckle, holding up my paperback copy ofDawnby Octavia Butler. “I’m taking this literature class called Black Women in Other Space?—”
“Wait.” Julz frowned. “Isn’t a senior lit class going to be mad difficult with the sexy lexie?”
I laughed at his nickname for the learning disability we’d discovered we were both navigating during an icebreaker game he oversaw for the first years. Tell us your name, home city, and what you think will be your biggest obstacle here at UMG.
“So hard.” I winced. “And that’s why I’m spending Friday night in the library reading instead of partying, like everybody else.”
“Yeah, me and my girl Lindsey are hitting up a couple of bars now that I’m done here for the day.” Julz gave me a pitying look.“You didn’t get those required lit creds out of the way with an easier, breezier summer semester, like I told you to?”
“I did, actually,” I assured him, so he wouldn’t think I wasn’t appreciative of the one piece of good advice he’d given me, along with an open invitation to “hit him up” if I was ever in need of a study break—delivered with a toking gesture so that his meaning couldn’t possibly be lost in translation. Seriously, it was impressive it took all the way until the spring semester for him to get caught.
“And, you know, I didn’t hate that introduction class. So when the English and women’s studies department announced they were going to go halfsies on a guest residency from my favorite fantasy writer, Clara Quinn, I just knew I had to sign up. You should see the reading list. Octavia Butler, Tananarive Due, N. K. Jemisin, Tomi Adeyemi... and you know I can hardly wait to ask Clara Quinn about her Seasons of the Fae series.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Julz held up both hands, as if my enthusiasm was a spray hose that was hitting him directly in the face. “Hope you’re taking that shit pass/fail, though. Even that list of author names sounds too complicated.”
“No, they’re just… Black names,” I answered, feeling awkward for both him and myself. “Anyways, this is so wonderful.” I pivoted back to the carrel to change the subject. “And imaginative. Wow.”
“Totally, right?” Julz turned with me to proudly admire his artwork. “Like, how I’m matching the line in the Prince song with books where the guys get hurt by beautiful women? I’ve still got to add a few more, though, when I repeat the pattern on the other side.”
“Yeah, that’s super clever,” I agreed. “But maybe you should add a few where the women get hurt by beautiful men or women, too.”
“Like, a feminist angle?” Julz scrunched his face. “You know, I’m a feminist, too. But, it is Prince’s carrel.”
“Yeah, but the song appeals to everyone,” I pointed out. “And so far, you’ve only used books written by White men. You could totally includeJane Eyre,Wuthering Heights, andThe Color Purple.”
Julz pursed his lips at me, his expression turning suspicious. “You sure do read a lot for somebody with the sexy lexie.”
“Have you heard about audiobooks?” I asked, shaking my head at him. “They’re a huge world opener.”
Julz shrugged. “Well, I putOthelloon there. He’s Black.”
“Technically, Othello’s not a…” I trailed off when I saw the glazed-over look in Julz’s eyes and decided to finish with “…a terrible choice.”
Instead of pointing out thatOthellowas a play, I did what I always did—canted back to positive so that no one’s feelings got hurt. “Anyway, if you want, I’ll send you a list of more books for you to add to this awesome concept.”
“Or, maybe you could give me that list of yours over a couple of drinks.” Julz tipped his head down, and his expression turned flirtatious as he took me by the hand. “You’re a senior now, right? You can get me into the campus bar. You wouldn’t believe how much drinks cost in the real world.”
