“I know, it felt silly as I said it.”
“Don’t you think I would have led with that?”
“No, I certainly donotthink you would have led with that!”
They both laughed in the privacy of the stacks. Brennan loved the quiet, the warmth of their laughter, because it felt so normal. Despite the topic, when Cole and Brennan were talking at night in the library, Brennan felt like he was just a normal kid, flirting with the cute librarian.
Not that he was flirting.
But he wasn’t.…notflirting.
It was objectively a terrible time for romance, and Brennan knew that, so he didn’t bother entertaining the idea. But he could soak up the nice moments of normalcy for as long as they lasted.
The library was empty,reallyempty, for once, except for the few other library aides manning their various stations across the building. Cole stopped fidgeting with the cube and put his hands in his lap, sitting up, legs crossed, full attention on Brennan. Brennan straightened, self-conscious where he sprawled out on the floor.
“Have you told anyone else?” Cole asked quietly. “Your parents?”
Brennan averted his eyes, wet his lips, pressed them together. He hadn’t toldanyone.
It was hard to talk about anything personal without going back to March. Like, if Cole asked what Brennan wanted to do postgraduation, he’d end up telling him that he didn’t plan that far ahead because he hadn’t expected to live past eighteen.
He didn’t know how to explain to Cole that he didn’t want his mom or Cole oranyoneto worry about him because of all the stuff in March.
So he said, “Nah, my mom’s a vegetarian, she’d disown me.”
Cole frowned, like he knew Brennan was deflecting and wasn’t sure whether to call him out on it.
Brennan seized the pause to fumble for a distraction. “Oh!” Brennan said, snapping his fingers and going to his backpack, digging through for a thick volume he’d pulled from his personal bookshelf. “I brought that anthology, if you still wanted it.”
“Dude, of course I want it. I think I can read a couple poems after I put you throughTwilight.”
Brennan presented the poetry anthology to him. It was an old copy a teacher had given to him when he said he wanted to learn more about poetry, now worn and dog-eared, littered with highlights and notes in the margins from years of revisiting.
“Oh, dope,” Cole said. He said things like that, unironically.Dope. Sick. Tight.It was probably the least attractive thing about him, and it wasstillsomehow charming.
Cole made grabby hands until Brennan passed the book over, and Cole immediately started leafing through the pages. Brennan tried notto flinch at Cole looking at his angsty notes from high school, but Cole was grinning like it was Christmas morning.
“This is so fucking cool, Brennan, thanks,” Cole said. He had a way of saying things with a level of sincerity that cut straight to your soul. It made Brennan want to light himself on fire.
“It’s no big deal,” Brennan said, because it seemed like the thing to say, and because admitting his angsty poetry collection was his pride and joy would make the whole thing even more horrifyingly personal. “Anyway, the ones with a star in the table of contents are the ones I think you should start with. Like a starter pack.”
“I’m gonna read it cover to cover,” Cole said. “Scout’s honor.” He held up three fingers in a salute.
“Oh, youwouldbe a Boy Scout,” Brennan accused. Cole had the wholealways be preparedthing down pat with the small pharmacy he kept in his backpack.
“What doesthatmean?” Cole asked, indignant.
“I don’t know, you’re very… polite? Very”—he waved his hand around vaguely—“prepared.”
Cole cast him a mischievous smile. “I’ll have you know I was actually aGirlScout.”
Brennan sputtered for a minute and said, “You were not!” He bubbled with laughter and that buzzingtell me everything about youfeeling he was used to getting around Cole. He leaned forward, propping his chin on his fist.
“Okay, yeah, I was anhonorarymember of Mari’s troop,” Cole said. “But I went all the way through Juniors!”
Brennan’s brain, a useless thing set on destroying him, conjured up an image of an elementary-aged Cole with a Scouts vest and cookies to sell, all smiles and enthusiasm and messy hair. Brennan wondered if Cole was as effortlessly friendly and bright then as he was now.
BRENNAN’S PHONE
