Page 37 of Easy Out

Growing up, I remember several nights a week mystery casseroles showed up in our kitchen or a pair of hand-me-down shoes were left by our apartment door.

I don’t think of my childhood often, but when I do, I’m reminded how much my community helped raise me.

I clear the emotional fog I’ve put myself in and walk up the stairs to the third floor of the library. It’s a ghost town tonight.

After gathering a few books on the college’s history, I sit at the table on the third floor Hart and I have claimed as ours. I remove the contraband cupcakes from my backpack and place them on the table next to the stack of books.

I’m early. I was worried I would fall asleep and be late if I went to the dorms first. I’m exhausted. I don’t remember the last time I was this tired. Maybe finals last year?

I’ll feel refreshed if I rest my eyes for a moment. I snuggle my lumpy backpack and hunch over the table the best I can. It’s not comfortable, but I’m not trying to fall asleep.

I’m only going to close my eyes until Hart gets here.

I just need…a…minute…

“Brujita,“ a soft deep voice infiltrates my dreaming. The lightest touch strokes my cheekbone. “Lauren, I need you to wake up.” My hair is lifted gently off my face and tucked behind my ear.

I groan and burrow my face deeper into my elbow. “Lauren, cariño, you need to wake up for me.”

“Hart?” I open one eye, grateful there isn’t harsh lighting in the room. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty.”

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” I peel myself from my backpack. There’s no way I don’t have marks on my face from the zipper and rough canvas fabric. “Did you just get here?” I frown. He’s late. We were supposed to meet over an hour ago.

“No.”

“You let me sleep? You should have woken me up.” I’m horrified and embarrassed. I discreetly check the corner of my mouth for any drool.

“You needed to sleep,” Hart’s tone is sharp. His words feel final. Like he is the authority and knows what’s best for me.

I don’t know how I feel about that. Part of me wants to protest. I want to tell him he doesn’t have a clue what I need.

The rest of me wants to relinquish all the control I’ve been holding onto with iron fists for the last decade. I want to follow his orders and do whatever he says. I want to bury myself deep into his strong arms and let him comfort me.

That, however, is too difficult. It’s much easier to fight with him than show Hart how vulnerable he makes me feel.

"You have no idea what I need. If you did, you would know I need to nail this assignment. And to do that, we need to get this research done. I can’t do that while I’m sleeping," I say.

I take my crappy secondhand laptop out of my backpack. We still have an hour or so until the library closes. I was hoping to be in bed before eleven for once this week, but that isn’t going to happen now.

I open a new Word document once my computer finally sparks to life. While it loads, I reach for the first book on the stack I borrowed for us. That’s when I notice the pile is gone. The books are sporadically placed across the table. Some are open, and others are closed with post-it notes marking the pages.

“Brujita -”

“Stop calling me that,” I snap.

“I can’t do that.” He seems unbothered by my attitude. I spare a second to glance at him. Going by the grin on his face, he’s amused. Damn him. He never smiles. He really should because he’s beautiful when he does.

Under a thin coating of scruff, I notice he has a small scar on his left cheek. It’s more prominent mimicking a dimple when he smiles.

“There is nothing more important to me than this assignment.” History says this isn’t true. The fierceness in his eye, however, tells me he isn’t lying. He wants to do a good job on our assignment too. My question is why?

“Even more than baseball?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

“Yes,” he says with absolution. “I’ve read through all the books you found. You did good. I marked any mention of the library.” Hart grabs one of the books and passes it to me. “Do you want to start typing notes from this one?”

“Sure.” I read the front cover and type the book’s title and author in my document. Then open the book up to the first marked page. We thought it would be good to add a little bit of the history behind the library to our article. Start with the origin story and build from there.

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