Page 53 of Roommating

I ignore this comment. “I bet she’s looking for him.”

She can walk the aisles all she wants, but she won’t find Adam on the floor since he’s behind us in the back room sorting supplies for our upcoming May-flowers craft event for tweens and teens. I’m tempted to wait her out until she gives up and leaves, but I’m also curious what their deal is. Adam came with her to Keybar but he left with me. He’s never mentioned her or brought her around the apartment, and it’s only been two weeks since I fooled around with him, which means nothing unless they’re exclusive, but still. I’m dying to know who she is to him, even while acknowledging I might not like the answer.

I find his contact in my phone.

Sabrina:I think you have a guest

Adam:Who is it?

I’d rather not admit to recognizing her in writing, but he’ll find out soon enough when he sees for himself who it is.

Sabrina:The girl you were with at Keybar is strolling the aisles and she’s not looking for books

He appears approximately thirty seconds later. “Where is she?” He scans the room. “Oh.” When he sees her, his expression turns pinched. This could be attributed to a number of factors, including but not limited to: his displeasure at seeing her, him wishinghe didn’t have a juice stain on his sweatshirt, or him rethinking his decision to eat sour-cream-and-onion potato chips with lunch. My vote is for option one.

When he joins her on the floor, her face lights up and she draws him into a hug. He hugs her back but seems stiff… like he’s not comfortable with the affection… but this could also be due to his breath reeking of the chips he ate with lunch. Either way, it’s none of my business.

He glances over his shoulder and catches me watching them.

I quickly look down. When I raise my head again, they’re no longer in my line of vision.

“They went upstairs.”

“Who?”

Gabe smirks.

“I hate you.”

I try to focus on work, but my mind would rather be tortured with images of Adam making out with Keybar Girl in the bathroom, break room, or even against the new “Spring into Reading” display I helped create upstairs on the early readers floor, since that’s where Gabe said they went. Maybe Adam’s secretly an exhibitionist except for when it comes to being caught in the act by his grandma.

The desk is quiet so I walk the floor, straightening chairs, reminding kids to use their library voices, and confirming none of the patrons using the computers need my help. Then I stroll the aisles searching for colored strips of paper peeking out of books. As part of his training, Adam leaves them so we can double check he’s shelving the books in the right spots.

“When can we take off my training wheels?”

I startle at the sound of Adam’s voice and roll my shoulders back, pretending I haven’t been concentrating on not thinking about himfor the past twenty minutes. “It’s not my decision, but I think soon.” As subtly as possible, I skim the floor behind him. There’s no sign of the girl.

Adam’s eyes drop to my waist and back up. “My shirt looks good on you.”

My first thought is,Not as good as it looksoffof you, but by some miracle, I don’t say it out loud. “Thanks again for lending it to me.”

He smiles, then checks the clock on the wall. “Almost closing time. No class later, right?”

A pleasant hum vibrates under my skin at the unexpected knowledge Adam keeps track of my schedule and knows I don’t have school on Wednesdays. “Correct.”

“Walk home together?”

“Sure.” We nod to seal the deal, and I turn away mere seconds before cracking a smile I’d prefer he doesn’t see. We go our separate ways for the last twenty-five minutes of work.

If there are no issues with the 6 Train, the commute from the library to our apartment by subway takes less than five minutes, but unless it’s raining, snowing, 100 percent humidity, or the wind chill is in the single digits, I walk.

It’s none of the above today so we walk, the route dependent on the color of the stoplights we hit along the way. Adam easily keeps the pace of a born-and-bred New Yorker, expertly dodging other pedestrians. I focus on silently chanting:I’m not going to ask about the girl. Not going to ask about the girl.

“Cool about you having a visitor today.”Fuck me.I bend to tighten my shoelace even though it’s already double knotted.

“Cool isn’t the word I’d use.”

I straighten. “No?”

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