Status: One-Shot/Complete
The Other Section
1/1
He had been visiting the library for six months now.
He always did his homework there. School was too noisy with chatter and home wasn’t much better since his siblings were always watching shows like Leave it to Beaver and Lassie. Whenever he got up to turn the dial for the volume, his siblings argued with him. His mother played the Everly Brothers every day from the record player in order to ignore the constant slurs from his father that were targeted towards other people. He didn’t mind the silence the library provided. At least Phil and Don Everly weren’t telling him all they have to do is dream and Lassie wasn’t barking in his ear.
Lately, besides the welcoming silence, another reason appeared to encourage him to come. About a month ago, a girl started coming to read books. Every day he got off the bus and when he entered the library, there she was at her table. The books she was reading changed often, and they weren’t always small either. He could’ve sworn some of them were well over 500 hundred pages. The entire library could hear her flipping through her stories.
Her table was in the back corner of the library in the other section. There wasn’t a barrier to separate the two sections other than the librarian’s, “You’re not allowed in there.” Without a gated barrier and through the dim lights of her section, he still caught a few glimpses of her. Like many girls, she wore dresses that matched the current fashion quota. The collar covered her collarbone. Her sleeves ended just above her elbow. The fabric hugged her waist and then flowed out from there and ended below the knee. It sashayed around her legs the rare times he saw her walk – rare times, because she was sitting at her table before he entered the library and was still there when he left.
What she wore was cute but her outfits weren’t what intrigued him the most. He’d rather learn about what she knew. What were those books about? How much had she learned over the years? How many of her books were fiction and how many were nonfiction? He adored books too. He read books quite often, whether they were for his high school English class or for fun. In fact, he had just finished Fahrenheit 451 two days ago. He was the first in line to buy it when it was published two weeks before. But he didn’t read as fast as she did. Surely at the rate she read, she learned more in a day than he did in a week. She probably had vast knowledge about politics, religion, animals, food, anything anybody could find interesting. He could’ve guessed that she knew more about made-up worlds than anybody sitting in the library right now. Maybe she even had her own world insider her head. Did she write stories too? He wondered how much information she knew about her own culture. Did she know a lot about his?
Of course, he could know the answers to these questions if he’d only muster up the courage to say hello. He didn’t know what was holding him back. Was it because he didn’t know what the general public would think of him? Was he afraid of his father’s scrutiny for people like her? Or was it because of his own nerves? He swallowed as he fidgeted with the tie around his neck.
He glanced up from his homework to look at her. The book she was reading today was what she had been reading yesterday. It seemed like she only had ten more pages left out of the 250. The cover glistened, telling him the book must’ve been published fairly recently. The other books she read had tattered edges and spines broken in more than one place since that was all the library provided for her section. He tried to continue the calculus equation she was working on but her page turning echoed in the library. A few people in his section sent a glare her way but she was too caught up to notice. Others muttered about how “They’re all the same.” He looked up from his paper and watched her eyes scan the lines. She didn’t have to use a bookmark or finger to guide her eyes as they sped-read, and he thought that had to be some kind of talent. He also thought he was blushing, so he quickly put his head down again before she had the chance to see.
Something tapped a nearby table. When he looked, he saw it was the girl setting down her book. She sighed, a dreamy look on her face. In the five minutes since he last looked up at her, she had finished the book. She picked up the book again, looking at the back cover. He felt his eyebrows raise. The front cover of her book faced him and it was red. He felt his stomach flutter as he looked at his belongings splayed out on the table. The little voice in his head encouraged him. Should he get up now, or should he wait until she had calmed down from the story?
She pushed out her chair and began to rummage through her bag. His palms became sweaty. He either had to make a move now or wait God knows how long before another sign came to him. The voice of encouragement was screaming at him now.
He slammed his textbook shut, capturing the stares of people around him. He put everything away into his bag, tearing out a page from his notebook and writing a note on it beforehand. He folded the note, then got up from his chair. His shoes tapped against the floor, and everyone went back to what they were doing. They probably thought he was heading towards the exit since that was what he usually assumed. But his footsteps didn’t stop. He kept walking, straightening his suit and tie along the way. He could feel the stares. The only person not staring at him was her. Sweat was on his brow now, and he quickly wiped it away. He took in a deep breath, let it out, and then continued to walk under the sign that read “Colored”.
The people sitting in the section he was in before gasped. Glares slowly etched onto some faces while others were so shocked they couldn’t close their mouths. A few boys got up to follow, making a scene of pushing their chairs back and stomping towards him with their fists clenched. Even the librarian was shocked. The more she said, “Sir, that section isn’t for people like you”, the more he was determined to walk to where he wanted.
The people in this section froze as their wide, scared eyes stared at him. Many had pencils hovering just above their papers while others still had their heads hanging over a page. Even she was staring at him now. She was in the middle of buckling her bag closed. He noticed, for the first time, she had a heart-shaped face. Her light brown eyes were big and her eyelashes full. Her eyebrows were more curved rather than straight. A white bow was in her coarse, black hair. She seemed to be shaking. Everyone in her section did. Would they be punished for his choice of actions?
He arrived at her table but didn’t stop walking. Instead, he purposely bumped into her table as a way to discreetly flick his note onto it, apologized, and kept walking. From the corner of his eye he could see her staring at his note. He stopped walking at a bookshelf that contained a volume of encyclopedias. Letters J through O were missing. He ran his fingers over the spine, trying to make it seem he came to this section for a book. He tried glancing behind him from the corner of his eye. The boys who had followed him were standing at the border between the two sections, arms crossed. Their eyes went from him to one of the people in this section. He glanced at the girl. She was rummaging through her bag again, but his note was hardly visible. He saw the corner peeking out from underneath her copy of Fahrenheit 451.
One of the boys walked over to him. “You’re in the wrong section.”
“Hmm. I was looking for an encyclopedia,” he said.
The boy narrowed his eyes. “We have them on our side.”
“I know.” He ran his fingers over the spines of the encyclopedias. “But I couldn’t find K. Thought they’d have it. Guess not.” He shrugged and then pushed past the boy.
Everyone’s eyes, no matter what side they were on, followed him. He pushed past the other boy at the border, ignored the librarian trying to scold him, and then exited the library. He turned the corner and made his way to the back of the library where he wrote on the note for the girl to meet him. It was surrounded by trees and plenty of shade. Plus, this was where the library threw the trash out so many people avoided this area.
He sat on the ground against the wall and checked his watch constantly. After thirty minutes he was nervous she wouldn’t come but then he heard feet scrape against the ground. He looked to his left, and there she was slowly walking towards him. She stopped in front of him.
Keeping her eyes to the ground, she held out his note.
“You can sit if you’d like,” he said. She stayed in her position so he stood up. He opened his mouth to say something but saw that she was very tense. Did he seem too threatening? He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, slouched, and then grinned. “I noticed you read a lot of books.”
“I do.”
“I couldn’t help but notice the one you just finished.” He took out his copy of Fahrenheit 451 from his bag. “I just finished it quite recently. None of my friends have read it since it just came out. I’ve been dying to talk to someone about it.”
Now she was facing him head-on. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and she was biting the corner of her lip. “You want to talk to me?”
He nodded. “You. We can talk about other books if you would like as well.”
She looked down at her hands. Her mouth twitched, and he figured she had something to say. By how her eyebrows scrunched together, he knew there was a question she wanted to ask but couldn’t get out.
“Hey,” he said. “No need to worry. People don’t really walk by here. And if they do, walk in the opposite direction than me. We can pretend we never even spoke to one another.”
She looked at him again. “But I don’t even have the book. I was reading the library’s copy.”
He held up his book. “We can share mine.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
Slowly, a small smile formed on her face. “Well, I guess then. I’m very interested in another opinion anyway.” She walked past him and sat against the wall.
He quickly sat next to her and opened up to his favorite page. “So what’d you think of it?”
Despite the views of the general public, despite what his father would think, despite the nerves tingling in his stomach, he huddled close to her over his book, and the two of them began to rapidly discuss their thoughts. Soon, they began to discuss other things as well. Did she enjoy The Everly Brothers? Did she enjoy the latest episode of Lassie? Did he know that the leader singer of The Teddy Bears was only sixteen?
By sundown, the library closed and they were the only two left on the property, and he was asking to walk her home.
He always did his homework there. School was too noisy with chatter and home wasn’t much better since his siblings were always watching shows like Leave it to Beaver and Lassie. Whenever he got up to turn the dial for the volume, his siblings argued with him. His mother played the Everly Brothers every day from the record player in order to ignore the constant slurs from his father that were targeted towards other people. He didn’t mind the silence the library provided. At least Phil and Don Everly weren’t telling him all they have to do is dream and Lassie wasn’t barking in his ear.
Lately, besides the welcoming silence, another reason appeared to encourage him to come. About a month ago, a girl started coming to read books. Every day he got off the bus and when he entered the library, there she was at her table. The books she was reading changed often, and they weren’t always small either. He could’ve sworn some of them were well over 500 hundred pages. The entire library could hear her flipping through her stories.
Her table was in the back corner of the library in the other section. There wasn’t a barrier to separate the two sections other than the librarian’s, “You’re not allowed in there.” Without a gated barrier and through the dim lights of her section, he still caught a few glimpses of her. Like many girls, she wore dresses that matched the current fashion quota. The collar covered her collarbone. Her sleeves ended just above her elbow. The fabric hugged her waist and then flowed out from there and ended below the knee. It sashayed around her legs the rare times he saw her walk – rare times, because she was sitting at her table before he entered the library and was still there when he left.
What she wore was cute but her outfits weren’t what intrigued him the most. He’d rather learn about what she knew. What were those books about? How much had she learned over the years? How many of her books were fiction and how many were nonfiction? He adored books too. He read books quite often, whether they were for his high school English class or for fun. In fact, he had just finished Fahrenheit 451 two days ago. He was the first in line to buy it when it was published two weeks before. But he didn’t read as fast as she did. Surely at the rate she read, she learned more in a day than he did in a week. She probably had vast knowledge about politics, religion, animals, food, anything anybody could find interesting. He could’ve guessed that she knew more about made-up worlds than anybody sitting in the library right now. Maybe she even had her own world insider her head. Did she write stories too? He wondered how much information she knew about her own culture. Did she know a lot about his?
Of course, he could know the answers to these questions if he’d only muster up the courage to say hello. He didn’t know what was holding him back. Was it because he didn’t know what the general public would think of him? Was he afraid of his father’s scrutiny for people like her? Or was it because of his own nerves? He swallowed as he fidgeted with the tie around his neck.
He glanced up from his homework to look at her. The book she was reading today was what she had been reading yesterday. It seemed like she only had ten more pages left out of the 250. The cover glistened, telling him the book must’ve been published fairly recently. The other books she read had tattered edges and spines broken in more than one place since that was all the library provided for her section. He tried to continue the calculus equation she was working on but her page turning echoed in the library. A few people in his section sent a glare her way but she was too caught up to notice. Others muttered about how “They’re all the same.” He looked up from his paper and watched her eyes scan the lines. She didn’t have to use a bookmark or finger to guide her eyes as they sped-read, and he thought that had to be some kind of talent. He also thought he was blushing, so he quickly put his head down again before she had the chance to see.
Something tapped a nearby table. When he looked, he saw it was the girl setting down her book. She sighed, a dreamy look on her face. In the five minutes since he last looked up at her, she had finished the book. She picked up the book again, looking at the back cover. He felt his eyebrows raise. The front cover of her book faced him and it was red. He felt his stomach flutter as he looked at his belongings splayed out on the table. The little voice in his head encouraged him. Should he get up now, or should he wait until she had calmed down from the story?
She pushed out her chair and began to rummage through her bag. His palms became sweaty. He either had to make a move now or wait God knows how long before another sign came to him. The voice of encouragement was screaming at him now.
He slammed his textbook shut, capturing the stares of people around him. He put everything away into his bag, tearing out a page from his notebook and writing a note on it beforehand. He folded the note, then got up from his chair. His shoes tapped against the floor, and everyone went back to what they were doing. They probably thought he was heading towards the exit since that was what he usually assumed. But his footsteps didn’t stop. He kept walking, straightening his suit and tie along the way. He could feel the stares. The only person not staring at him was her. Sweat was on his brow now, and he quickly wiped it away. He took in a deep breath, let it out, and then continued to walk under the sign that read “Colored”.
The people sitting in the section he was in before gasped. Glares slowly etched onto some faces while others were so shocked they couldn’t close their mouths. A few boys got up to follow, making a scene of pushing their chairs back and stomping towards him with their fists clenched. Even the librarian was shocked. The more she said, “Sir, that section isn’t for people like you”, the more he was determined to walk to where he wanted.
The people in this section froze as their wide, scared eyes stared at him. Many had pencils hovering just above their papers while others still had their heads hanging over a page. Even she was staring at him now. She was in the middle of buckling her bag closed. He noticed, for the first time, she had a heart-shaped face. Her light brown eyes were big and her eyelashes full. Her eyebrows were more curved rather than straight. A white bow was in her coarse, black hair. She seemed to be shaking. Everyone in her section did. Would they be punished for his choice of actions?
He arrived at her table but didn’t stop walking. Instead, he purposely bumped into her table as a way to discreetly flick his note onto it, apologized, and kept walking. From the corner of his eye he could see her staring at his note. He stopped walking at a bookshelf that contained a volume of encyclopedias. Letters J through O were missing. He ran his fingers over the spine, trying to make it seem he came to this section for a book. He tried glancing behind him from the corner of his eye. The boys who had followed him were standing at the border between the two sections, arms crossed. Their eyes went from him to one of the people in this section. He glanced at the girl. She was rummaging through her bag again, but his note was hardly visible. He saw the corner peeking out from underneath her copy of Fahrenheit 451.
One of the boys walked over to him. “You’re in the wrong section.”
“Hmm. I was looking for an encyclopedia,” he said.
The boy narrowed his eyes. “We have them on our side.”
“I know.” He ran his fingers over the spines of the encyclopedias. “But I couldn’t find K. Thought they’d have it. Guess not.” He shrugged and then pushed past the boy.
Everyone’s eyes, no matter what side they were on, followed him. He pushed past the other boy at the border, ignored the librarian trying to scold him, and then exited the library. He turned the corner and made his way to the back of the library where he wrote on the note for the girl to meet him. It was surrounded by trees and plenty of shade. Plus, this was where the library threw the trash out so many people avoided this area.
He sat on the ground against the wall and checked his watch constantly. After thirty minutes he was nervous she wouldn’t come but then he heard feet scrape against the ground. He looked to his left, and there she was slowly walking towards him. She stopped in front of him.
Keeping her eyes to the ground, she held out his note.
“You can sit if you’d like,” he said. She stayed in her position so he stood up. He opened his mouth to say something but saw that she was very tense. Did he seem too threatening? He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, slouched, and then grinned. “I noticed you read a lot of books.”
“I do.”
“I couldn’t help but notice the one you just finished.” He took out his copy of Fahrenheit 451 from his bag. “I just finished it quite recently. None of my friends have read it since it just came out. I’ve been dying to talk to someone about it.”
Now she was facing him head-on. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and she was biting the corner of her lip. “You want to talk to me?”
He nodded. “You. We can talk about other books if you would like as well.”
She looked down at her hands. Her mouth twitched, and he figured she had something to say. By how her eyebrows scrunched together, he knew there was a question she wanted to ask but couldn’t get out.
“Hey,” he said. “No need to worry. People don’t really walk by here. And if they do, walk in the opposite direction than me. We can pretend we never even spoke to one another.”
She looked at him again. “But I don’t even have the book. I was reading the library’s copy.”
He held up his book. “We can share mine.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
Slowly, a small smile formed on her face. “Well, I guess then. I’m very interested in another opinion anyway.” She walked past him and sat against the wall.
He quickly sat next to her and opened up to his favorite page. “So what’d you think of it?”
Despite the views of the general public, despite what his father would think, despite the nerves tingling in his stomach, he huddled close to her over his book, and the two of them began to rapidly discuss their thoughts. Soon, they began to discuss other things as well. Did she enjoy The Everly Brothers? Did she enjoy the latest episode of Lassie? Did he know that the leader singer of The Teddy Bears was only sixteen?
By sundown, the library closed and they were the only two left on the property, and he was asking to walk her home.