Check Out a Book, Check Out a Boy

Emma rolled the book cart into the main floor of the library. Like always, the traffic was stop and go: dodge one kid, pause at a yellow light while a distressed mom found little Bella crawling up the bookshelf.
She winced, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear as kid number two skirted around mom and knocked down the books in the 'Bu' section. There was another half-hour of work.
Kid one tackled the 'Ba' section while mom wrestled with number two.
Make that two hours worth of work.
Emma was pretty darn sure when her mom had made these library trips she hadn't behaved this badly. She hoped, anyway. If so, it was a miracle Martha the Librarian had allowed Emma past the doors, and even more of a miracle that she allowed Emma to volunteer after school.
Emma relaxed, her shoulder muscles finally loosening after the disastrous call from her mom. No, she told herself, she wouldn't think about that right now - or the four college applications her mother had thoughtfully 'picked' up for Emma.
Four.
"Yeah, right. More like fourteen." If she knew her mother.
Emma swept into the usual traffic and the usual interruptions for patrons asking where Twain was now located and if this particular book was in the teen section or shelved under fiction. And like magic, the library and the books and the readers seeped away her frustration.
They recognized her because of the simple uniform, pale blue polo shirt and khaki pants. Of course, the name tag helped, but she told herself it was because they recognized her. The same she'd recognized Martha's familiar tangle of red hair and owl-sized glasses when she needed help.
Another usual, uneventful day at the library. Emma stopped her cart in the reserve section and unloaded it. Most titles had been reserved by the 'regulars.' One look at the cover and she knew the last name of the patron.
That, she thought, was way more satisfying than going to some over-crowded, over-priced college where she was just one of the masses.
Emma grabbed another handful of books just as she noticed the reading section wasn't empty. Not that it was usually empty, it wasn't. But middle aged men and women lounged there, heads bent reading thrillers or romance.
That was usual. Sunny View High School's star baseball player? That was not.
Andrew Taylor, the team's all-star pitcher, hunched over in the faded armchair. He rubbed his eyes as he attempted to read some tome that looked too dull for even Emma's tastes.
What was he doing here? None of the athletes ever set foot in her library. And what was he doing reading that book?
She tilted her head, trying to read the cover. For once, she didn't recognize it.
Andrew glanced over at her and she immediately looked away. Probably moved a little too fast. She lost her hold on her books and they tumbled to the floor. A few of the name slips fell out and she swallowed a curse.
Damn it! She'd have to look these up before she shelved them.
Emma stacked the books back up, separating the ones with tags and the ones without, when she grabbed a book - a book that Andrew already had gotten. Her hand touched his.
So what did calm, cool and collected Emma do? Jerked back and knocked over her stack.
This was going to be a really long evening.
"You okay? You look a little jumpy there."
Okay, she was sure it wasn't fair that the star player also happened to have the most gorgeous smile in the senior class. Emma clutched her hand, still tingling from touching his, and pressed it into her stomach.
"I'm fine. Just, you surprised me."
His eyebrows lifted. "Really?"
Oh, way to go Emma. "I mean, you were there and reading a book."
"Isn't that what people generally do at a library." He offered the book to her.
"Well, yes people come to the library to read but guys like you don't. I mean, not that you can't read it's just that..." Her face flushed. This was why she stayed in the library and kept her head firmly planted in any book she could find.
Andrew smiled. "Yeah, I hear what you're saying. And you're right, this is probably the first time I've stepped foot in here."
Thank God she wasn't crazy and her surprise, at least, was warranted. Kind of. Maybe not the second time she'd jumped and knocked over her books.
"What are you reading?" She asked, hoping to move the conversation far, far away from her embarrassing comment about him not being able to read.
"Honestly? I haven't a clue. I've spent the last ten minutes re-reading the same page." He shook his head. "Still no idea. But Mrs. Tilson, my English teacher, is insistent that I read something."
"Sorry to hear that. She's tough. I had her last year."
"Yeah?" Andrew glanced down at her shirt, gaze lingering there for a moment, which only caused her blush to deepen.
He wasn't looking at her chest, she was absolutely positive about that (it wasn't like she had much to show off either).
"Emma, right?" His gaze jumped right back up to her face. "I don't think we've had a class together."
"Nope."