Leti
It figures that the one day I’m not called in to sub is the day the library is a disaster zone.
The shelving alone I have to do is an unfathomable amount for one person to handle on their own, but the school hasn’t bothered hiring my replacement, so I don’t have the help of an assistant to rely on yet. I pile as many returned books as possible onto the cart, organizing by section, and then wheel them to the fiction shelves. The monotonous task gives me lots of time to think. Things with Julian are still tense—we haven’t even addressed the wholewoman I lovebomb he dropped on me yesterday—and things with Andrew are nonexistent because we haven’t spoken since I inadvertently took Kayla’s side in the breakup.
I know what I have to do. I’m the one who fucked up, so I’m the one who needs to reach out to Andrew and apologize. Be the bigger person. I’ve always wondered what that felt like.
After grabbing a giant stack ofPs off the cart, I climb onto the stool to reach the very top shelf. When one glance shows me there’s no space to shelve any of the James Patterson books in my arms, a groan escapes my lips and I prepare to place the stack down in order to do some shifting. I lose my balance on the rickety stool,and in an effort to save the books from crashing down on the floor, I end up crashing down onto the cart myself.
Damn you, James Patterson, for once again being the bane of every librarian’s existence.
Pain, white-hot and blinding, shoots up my right arm as I hit the carpet. Tears prick my eyes as I attempt to pick myself back up, and I could kick myself for getting into this situation in the first place. I’m by myself, so the likelihood of anyone hearing my cries for help are slim to none and my phone is all the way behind the circulation desk. The thought of getting to my feet and walking over there is grueling and impossible.
Focus.
Freaking out isn’t going to help me. I need to move. Stand up, walk five paces, grab my phone, and call for help. In that order. I cradle my injured arm to my chest, force myself not to think about the pain, and slowly stand. It’s only now that I’ve completed step one that a problem quickly arises with step two: The closest path to the front desk is blocked with fallen books and a tipped over book cart. I’ll need to walk all the way around the bookcase to get to my phone.
I’m already exhausted just standing here, and I’m pretty sure my arm is broken. There’s no other explanation for the shooting pain or the way it’s bent at an odd angle, but I’m terrified to examine it too closely.
Breathe, Leti.
I’m close to tears when the sound of the door whooshing open perks me up. God, nothing has ever sounded more heroic to my ears. I immediately yell out, “Help!Whoever’s there, please help!”
“Oh my god, Leti, are you okay?” I’m in too much pain to be stunned when Theo comes into view. “Julian asked me to check in on you when you didn’t meet him for lunch. What the hell happened?”
“I fell off this stupid stool and into this stupid pile of books ontop of this stupid metal cart and bent my arm in half trying to break my fall.” I take in a deep breath, and then push it out slowly, trying and failing to calm down. “Can you help clear a path for me? And maybe give me a ride to the ER?”
“Yeah, let me just call Julian—” I knock the phone out of his hand, not even batting an eye when this six foot something bear of an ex-NFL player cuts his eyes to me. I know enough about the man from Julian to know he’s harmless.
“You can’t call Julian,” I tell him. “He’ll worry and hover and try to cut out on the school day early to stay with me in the hospital.”
“And that’s bad, because…?” He tilts his head at me.
“Are you not aware of how many administration issues this school has already? There aren’t enough subs to go around, let alone to cover his classes at the last minute, especially with me out of the running. He’ll feel guilty for staying at work or worse, leave anyway and lose his job, and we’re already in a thing.” It’s embarrassing to admit under the circumstances, when I have much bigger problems to contend with. When his brows crease, I clarify. “A fight. Whatever. I don’t need him to resent me on top of already hating me. I’ll tell him after the school day’s over. Please, just help me get out of here.”
“And what exactly do you want me to tell him when he asks where I found you?” he asks as he bends to clear a path for me to walk through. “He’s my friend, and I’m not very good at lying to begin with. Nor do I particularly want to. Besides, you’re not the only person the school can ask to sub. I’m sure it won’t be any trouble to find someone to cover his classes so he can stay with you at the hospital. I know Julian. He’ll want to be there for you no matter what kind of fight you’re in.”
I’m clearly not thinking straight, but I must be in the mood to argue because I shake my head. Tears sting my eyes again, and I getthe sudden urge to call my mom. She’ll lecture me for not being more careful and getting myself hurt at work, but at least she’d stay by my side and hold my hand while the doctors check me over. Theo’s phone buzzes, making a raucous noise on the metal cart, but lucky for me it’s not Julian on the other end but a name I don’t recognize.
“Shit, I’m late for fifth period.” He pockets the phone and takes my uninjured arm. “Come on, we need to do this quickly. I’ll drive you to the ER.”
I text my mom in the car, struggling with my left hand but manage to ask her if she’s busy. Theo spends the first few minutes of the ride making sure someone can cover his class and the rest asking if I’m sure I don’t want him to tell Julian to meet me in the emergency room.
“I texted my mom, and I’m about to text him,” I lie. “I’ll be okay. Promise.”
“Good,” he says as he pulls up to the drop-off zone. Before he can ask if there’s anything else he can do, or worse, offer to stay with me until my mom arrives, I hop out of the car and speed walk into the building. My arm aches the entire way, and I would do some unspeakably heinous shit for some Advil—or better yet, something stronger—right about now.
Once I’m checked in and handed a form I can’t fill out with my left hand, I finally get a text back from my mom.
Your dad and I took a spur of the moment trip to Houston! Try not to need us too much.
It’s impossible not to read into that statement.Try not to need us too much.I scoff to myself as I read her words again. I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room by myself. If there was ever a time to need my momtoo much, it would be now. I could call Bella, but this is aboutthe time she gets off work to pick up Mari from school. Same with Elena. Diego and Andrew are still at work…and so is Julian.
Maybe I am too much. Too loud, too mean, too needy. All my life, I’ve been fighting against that problem-child label, but maybe my family has been right about me all along. Here I am, injured from a job I hate, alone like I’ve always been, and going nowhere in life. A sob bursts out of me when I remember I left my insurance card at home, which only proves the point. I’m nothing but the useless, pathetic, disappointment child. Just like Andrew said a couple weeks ago.
Fucking pathetic.
As if it’s the universe’s duty to rub salt in the wound, my phone lights up with a call from Andrew. I can’t remember the last time we spoke over the phone. He should be at work right now—what does he want?
