I am hunched over my spiral notebook again in the light of the white LED lamps, trying to pretend as if I am taking notes, when the melodious sound of the bell signals the end of the class. The chalk screeches on the blackboard as Mr. Toth writes up the homework; some essay I won’t do anyway.

Around me, the class is packing as one, as if they're competing to see who can get out of history class and the school first. Mr. Toth says a few more words to his mandelect students, scrapes his short-cropped red hair, picks up the class diary and walks out. I should go too; Mom will kill me if I miss the next bus. Five minutes left to get out... But it feels so good to sit here and daydream. I wish it was this time yesterday and I could see Him! Meanwhile, I'm scribbling the spine of the umpteenth flower pattern in my notebook in the place of the Second World War. I never knew how to draw, yet it helps me to draw out my memories and go deeper into them. I recall the events of yesterday as if it were happening now.

“You're not coming?” Mandy sits down next to me, her voice breaking the silence of the empty room. She smells of cotton candy. The perfume is intoxicating. Just like her.

“What the hell is that?”

“Nothing!” I drop my pen, close the notebook.

“I know it's the first day of the Championship, but...”

“Oh, thank you for reminding me. I forgot for a sec...”

“You forgot?!” She slaps the table with her pink porcelain fake nailed fingers. “You? Who can't think of anything but that Meta-thing? And Bill of course,  but he is already gone to catch the bus...” She narrows her black lined eyes.

”You're hiding something.”

“No, I'm not.” I shove my stuff into my shoulder bag, mumbling a silent prayer that Mandy will stop asking me questions.

“I really have to go now...” I get up, but she pulls me back to the bench by the sleeve of my sweater.

“My dear friend. In four long years you have got to know me well enough to understand that I am an expert at sniffing out love affairs. This big secret smells like a guy. But why are you afraid to tell me? You know everything about me. Even that I did Matt doggy-style, I did Eugene in sixty-nine, and I gave a blowjob for Tom twice a day in the old building's toilet. I thought that this trust that we had...”

“All right, all right!" I turn resignedly to the girl in the red and black top and miniskirt. There's no other way to get rid of her. “Yesterday, after I left you at the mall, I didn't go straight home. I was so scared, and it always reminds me of David and what we used to do. I thought I'd go to the library and borrow a Harry Potter for nostalgia. But the library has been reorganized since last school year...”

“To the point, girl.” Scratching her nails.

“There was a man there. A librarian who looked like Metamorph's warrior. Black suit, long white hair...”

“Pff... What do you like about these long-haired guys? That Meta-boy would also be a hell of a guy if he’d cut off that big blue mane.”

“That wasn't a mane. It was some shiny, otherworldly thing.”

“Yeah, sure. So you've got a crush on a sloppy, snoopy rocker.”

“Mandy! He's totally different. It's like he's out of a fantasy world, only instead of armor, he's wearing a turtleneck...”

“Turtleneck?! How old is this dream guy?”

“I'd say he's in his thirties…” It sounded horrible even in my head, let alone out loud like that. I scratch my temples under the frames of my glasses. Mandy laughs. Loudly, deafeningly.

“A thirty-year-old skinny rocker! Oh, that's great!”

“No, not a rocker. He's much more elegant than that. And ripped. Not like a bodybuilder, but the epitome of a well-proportioned, attractive man. I could see his muscles through that tee. Not like a muscle shirt, of course, just so revealing that I'd itch to rip it off. Obviously I didn't, I just watched as he packed the books. But I swear, just the sight of it...

“Gosh!” She runs a finger across her laughing, teary eyes. Unfortunately, her makeup is waterproof. “You're totally falling for him!”

“Laugh all you want. I can't put into words what I've been through. You'd only understand if...”

“If I see him? Okay. Let's go!. - She's getting up.

My strength is leaving me.

Anything but this! I'll have to think of a way to discourage her. But how?

“It would be suspicious, don't you think? Maybe when I return the books, you could join me.” She'll forget by then anyway.

“When's that gonna be?” She's got his hands on his hips, impatiently.

“I'll tell you in a minute...”

I take out my mobile phone and connect to the school's terribly weak WIFI. While the library page loads, I pull out my cardholder to check my library card ID for access. I flip through it, but can't find it. I flip through it again. And again. Maybe two pages are stuck together... or I put them in my wallet... or my bag.

“Is everything all right?“ She interrupts my rummaging.

“No. My library card...”

It suddenly dawns on me.

“...I left it on the circulation desk. His hand touched mine and...”

“He touched your hand?” She syllables.

“It was an accident; he handed me the books and I...”

“You did it on purpose.”

“No! I didn't even look at him!”

“Okay... “ She smiles doubtfully. “Looks like you're going back to that library sooner than you planned. Mind if I tag along?”

Of course I do...

“S-sure... come.”

I step out into the white-walled, arched corridor. The crowd has already dispersed, just one or two students sitting on the stairs, talking. The afternoon breeze is blowing in through the open windows, yet I am choking on tears of anger and despair.

Why did I tell her? Was it to boast or just to share my joy? I have no idea. In any case, if Amanda Taylor comes with me, she'll definitely take him off my hands. She wouldn't be put off by the age difference and the scandal. In fact, she might even enjoy the envious or disapproving looks. To her, nothing is sacred except to gain experience. More specifically, to grow her collection, of which the elven warrior will be the trophy. I can almost hear her telling me about the expensive restaurants they dined at, the TV series they watched, the places they went on trips, the poses they had sex in... All the things I wanted to experience with him.

But I never will.

I push down the brass handle of the front entrance and lean against the double wooden door. Outside, the crowd is gone, only a few are reading on the benches, some playing football in the concrete courtyard, which last year was a green park, scented with flowers. The gate of the antique wrought-iron fence is open, and next to it...

Long white hair, intelligent face staring into the distance, black outfit.

I step back into the shadowy interior of the building as if I've been scorched by the sun. I swing the heavy door shut.

“What's the matter with you?” Mandy sweeps off the toe of her boot. I didn't even notice I'd stepped on it.

“It's him. He's here.”

“Very funny.” She rolls her eyes, but as more blood rushes to my pale face, she finally gives in to curiosity and opens the door a bit.

The light outside draws a streak of light across her thickly made-up face. Her hazel eyes widen round, her peach lips part. She licks the corner of her mouth, barely perceptible. I know that look; I've seen it a million times. The look that shatters my hopes.

“Um... Er... You forgot to mention that the guy is a fashion model. And he's rich. Maybe you didn't notice, but that elegant fabric jacket is quite the brand name. The upper crust wears them. I don't know what he did for a living before, but it's hardly enough to get by on a librarian's salary.”

She lets out a longing sigh.

“You were right; this really is the kind of guy I'd pay to cum on me.”

In any other situation, I'd be flashing my “I told you so” victory grin. But I wish I hadn't told you! I wish this dream wouldn't turn into a nightmare! Mandy, with her perfect shape, in her flawless outfit, drooling here...

“...and I'm wearing this sweater with torn sleeves" I say.

“You see, I told you yesterday to buy something pretty!“ She reprimands me condescendingly. “As punishment, you go first.”

Before I know it, she's pushing me out into the yard. There's no escape from here; I have to go to the gate, out into the street, past him...

Never before has it been so difficult to put one foot in front of the other. My knees are shaking so badly that I'm afraid they'll collapse under me. As I approach, my heart beats faster and faster. I try to stare at the ground, to see if it's easier, but my gaze keeps wandering back to him. Like a magnet with a pull I can't resist. I envy Mandy for being able to watch him from the cover of my back.

He brushes a white lock of hair behind his back, an earring glints on the edges of his ears. Silver or white gold, with a greenish blue stone. He pulls out his phone; checks the time.

He's waiting for someone. But who? He's never been here before. Maybe a young teacher got a new boyfriend… or, perhaps one of the students is her girlfriend?

My chest weighs a ton.

A gust of wind lifts his hair, carries his sweet and yet spicy scent towards me.

My neck throbs, my ears, my eyes.

I step out in front of him.

He looks at me, his black eyes trapping mine.

- Talia, right? - He smiles.

I flinch, frozen motionless.

How did he...?

“You forgot this on the counter yesterday” He hands me my library card. “It happened to be on my way home. ”Nods towards the school. “I thought I'd return it.”

How did he know which school I go to? He must have looked me up on Facebook. He tracked me down. Just so he could bring it here. For me. I take the card like it's a winning lottery ticket. I put it in my pocket. I want to thank him, but my throat feels like it's been cut.

“I'm Devin, Devin Wiczanovski.” He offers his hand.

I hesitate to touch it. I'm afraid if I do, I'll wake up. But there's nothing I can do...

My tiny, clammy hand slips between his long fingers. It's just as I imagined: big, steady, smooth. I'm lost in the sensation feeling, like my hand in his palm. My skin takes on the warmth of his, a sense of calm and security spreads through me.

I have no idea if it's moments or minutes that pass in this connectedness.

“I'm Amanda Taylor, Talia's best friend.” She pushes me aside gently with her shoulder.

He shakes her hand too, but it's as if he's doing it casually, out of politeness.

“Nice to meet you.” His deep voice is laced with indifference, then he turns back to me.

“Would you join me for a drink?”

Excuse me? Is he... asking me out? No, it must be a misunderstanding. He was obviously addressing his words to Mandy, and merely glanced at me by chance.

“Me?” I poke at my chest, expecting disappointment.

He nods.

“Of course I understand if you have other plans.” His smile is sad, resigned. That's how I usually smile when Mandy hunts down the IT guys before me.

But not him.

“Sure, why not. Mandy's in a hurry anyway, she's got a date with Alan. You've been so busy preparing for this day, I don't want to keep you. So you go ahead, I'll be fine.”

What am I doing?

Judging by the way Mandy's eyebrows went up to her forehead, she was asking herself the same question.

“Thank you, that's very generous. I'll be off then. See you tomorrow!” She waves in a friendly way, but her eyes say: you're going to regret this.

Maybe I will, but for now, I'm biting my lips to swallow a triumphant laugh. I hate that everything always works out for her. It's fine. Just leave Devin out of it.

Devin. What a beautiful name... Although it was my dead brother's name as well.

“Best friend, huh?” He looks down at me with an all-knowing gaze when Mandy's out of earshot.

“Yeah, since first grade in high school. She needs someone to help her out when she's in the mood to pick up nerds, and I don't have anyone else for the "best friend" position.”

“My condolences.”

What has got into me? Usually I don't dare to say a word in the presence of boys, and then this strange man comes along and banishes all my anxiety to the past with a single handshake.

He walks over to the motorbike parked on the curb, which I'm just now noticing. It's streamlined, futuristic, like something out of a science fiction movie. It's shiny, black, not a speck of dirt or dried mud anywhere. On the bottom, grey lettering: Yamaha R1. I know as much about bikes as I do about dressing, but it certainly cost more than some cars.

It's hardly enough to get by on a librarian's salary.

A dark shadow is cast over me. I don't know anything about him. Where did he get all that money? Inheritance, or some illegal job? What is he really doing here? What does he want from me? From me and not from Mandy?

He's pushing the bike next to me. As if reading my mind, he speaks:

“If you hurry, you might make up with her.”

Not a chance.

My expression probably reveals more than I would have liked about the horror that has arisen in me, because Devin's mouth twitches upwards. His faint, wry smile is a mirror of my soul.

I smile too.

I have no idea who this man is. But I want to get to know him.