Page 9 of I Met Him At The Library

Emily

Icannot believe I revealed what I actually did for a living to Ryan. No one in this town knew anything about my work other than being a freelance writer. Here I was spilling my secret to my freaking crush. I mean, in a way I guess I trusted Ryan with the secret. He’d likely understand and hopefully would keep it to himself. But still, this was a huge risk, and if it got out, I’d basically become a target for the religious to “save” me.

Even as I was freaking out about telling him my secret, I began explaining my book series to Ryan. Surprisingly, he appeared genuinely interested. He asked questions and his eyes brightened when I described the alien world and the plot of the entire series. He compared some of it to some of my favorite sci-fi shows and movies, and I told him about the small easter eggs I had previously added to my series too.

“So you mentioned your characters speak to you, like they would a director in a movie?” He asked, pure curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah. I know it sounds weird or whatever but it’s kinda like having an imaginary friend. The book plays out in my head like a movie but sometimes those characters pause to explain a scene more thoroughly. Especially if I want the scene to go one way and they want it to go in a different direction.”

His mahogany eyes narrowed slightly, and I thinned my lips in an awkward smile.

“I think I understand it. It’s your creative process. New ideas pop in your head, but you’ve already planned for the book to go a specific route, and to work out how it might screw up your plot, you argue it out with the characters.”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“That’s kinda cool. There were many times where I had to argue with computers. It’s not much different.”

“You argued with computers?”

“Oh yes, arguing with computers is a thing anyone in tech does. What you do isn’t much different from rubber-duck debugging.”

“What is rubber-duck debugging?” I asked, leaning on the table with my elbow, and putting my hand under my chin.

“Programmers will explain code line by line to a rubber duck. This process helps them to find and fix any bugs in the code. They talk to an inanimate object. You talk to characters in your head.”

“Did you ever do that?”

“Not really. I worked in network engineering. But I’ve seen people doing it. The company I worked for was huge. Working between twenty floors of computers and networks, I witnessed how a lot of people worked.”

I didn’t know much about Ryan’s life before he moved to Maple Creek, on account of my fear of people reading into my curiosity. While I had him here talking, I dug a little deeper.

“How did you end up here?” I asked, my hand gesturing to the library.

He chuckled slightly as he ran his fingers through the longer strands of black hair on his head. The sides were cut short and his five o’clock shadow covered his straight jaw and chin. His nose was slightly crooked but you hardly noticed with the thick rimmed glasses he wore.

“I burnt out at my job in Chicago and wanted a slower pace of life. I had taken a vacation here a year or so before I finally had enough. Moved into town, and Betsy all but tied me to a chair to take this job. It started with keeping the computer systems going part time, then she started training me to take over the director position. Five years later, I handle everything in the library.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, but he did a lot for the kids in this town. He was the reason the library had so many programs to help with literacy. It was his after-school programs, ones the town didn’t have when I was in school, that turned a lot of kids into avid readers. Even a few neighboring small towns brought their kids here to study or check out books.

“Well, you’ve done an amazing job with it. We didn’t have any of the programs you have available now. Some of the kids in my class got into a bit of trouble because they were bored.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. I grew up in the Chicago suburbs, and while we had things to do, it was still pretty boring. But I also had a lot available to me so I could go to college. The kids out here don’t always have those same opportunities.”

“I didn’t go to college, but I always wanted to be a writer. There were a lot of people in my class who worked through high school at our local places and then continued working at those places after graduating. There were some who started their own businesses. Only one kid in my graduating class made it out of this town with a scholarship.”

“Right, that was what Betsy and I hoped to change with the literacy and study programs. Maybe if they have the space available to read and study, they’ll be able to land scholarships and we’ll be able to send more of our kids off to college,” he explained.

Ryan cared about the kids in the area, despite not being from here. Everyone understood the battles we faced in this town. It might have grown some from when I was a kid, but that didn’t change the fact that if a kid didn’t go off to college they’d likely be stuck in this town for the rest of their lives. Even if they managed to move away, they’d still struggle since they weren’t afforded certain opportunities.

I didn’t mind it. I loved this town, even with the lack of privacy and the people who were extremely religious. It boiled down to the familiarity of it all. There was a comfort in knowing who every single one of your neighbors were. If I ever needed something, someone was available to help out.

Small towns weren’t bad. We had quirks, but we also had community. If someone was struggling, we pulled together to help. There had been several times when I was a kid that my mom would put together a lasagna for a neighbor in need. I specifically remember a house fire once that destroyed everything the Larson’s owned. The entire town pulled together to get them back on their feet with clothing, household items, and even offered their homes up for them to stay in while their house was being repaired. Luckily, the renters that lived above The Blue Plate had left shortly before the fire, and they were able to stay there. It was just one of many times the town pulled together to help their own, which was the only reason I continued to have any amount of hope after lies and gossip about me were spread that almost destroyed my life here.

For the next several hours, Ryan and I chatted about everything from the types of books we’ve read, to his life in Chicago, and my life here. We talked a bit more about my books and it felt good to have someone besides Meghan and Poppy to talk to about them as well as getting a male perspective.

Through our conversation, my mind began reeling with new ideas too. While my friends had always been helpful brainstorm buddies, I could practically feel the last remnants of writer’s block melt away as Ryan and I discussed my current book. It was a feeling I wanted to cling to desperately as images, plots, and my character’s growth became clearer in my head.

I hadn’t even registered how long we’d talked before I checked the time. It was already half past five. I didn’t even remotely reach my word count goals, but I had enjoyed talking to Ryan so much I didn’t notice my work wasn’t getting done. My fingers practically itched with the need to get these new ideas and plot points out, but I could do it at home.

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