Awkward Introductions

The library was quiet, but not too quiet. She sat alone, blonde hair framing a face from ice. She was reading.

He stood near the biography section, watching her.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, the book held up like a shield. She felt the weight of his gaze. He knew she felt it. Her posture stiffened.

-Do you not understand that this is inappropriate? she asked. Her voice was low and sharp. If you have something to say or discuss, then please do so.

Stanley didn't move.

-If not, then kindly look away, she continued. I came here to enjoy the books, not to be the object of your curiosity.

He took a step closer.

-What's inappropriate? he asked.

She finally looked up. She rolled her eyes in a practiced manner.

-Really? You think there's nothing inappropriate about staring at me like that while I'm trying to read my book in peace?

She gripped the worn pages of her novel tighter.

-It's called personal space and respect for others, two things you seem to lack, she added.

-I wasn't staring, Stanley said. I came to talk about books.

-Talk about books? She raised an eyebrow. Skeptical. And what makes you think I want to talk to you about anything, let alone books?

Her tone was biting. She glanced at him, then back to the open tome in her lap. Dismissal.

-It’s a library, Stanley offered stupidly.

She let out a humorless laugh.

-Ah yes, because everyone at the library is dying to talk to you.

She looked him dead in the eye. Stanley looked at her.

-Ok goodbye, he said.

He turned.

She slammed the book shut.

-Goodbye? she asked.

Stanley stopped. He turned back.

-Just like that?, she asked sarcastically.

-If you want to be left alone of course I'll respect that, Stanley said.

She narrowed her eyes, searching for the lie.

-Respect, huh? she said. Now why does that word coming from you sound so foreign and unbelievable?

She leaned back and crossed her arms.

-Let me guess, you've used that line before on countless women, hoping to catch one off guard enough to lower her defenses, she said. Well, newsflash buddy, it won't work on me.

-Why do you talk like you know me? Stanley asked.

She scoffed.

-Oh please, spare me the innocent act. Your type is as predictable as the sunrise, she said.

She gestured vaguely at the empty air around her.

-You see a lone woman minding her business and immediately assume she must be lonely, desperate even, just begging for someone to pay attention to her, she said.

Stanley nodded in agreement.

-Ok, he said, sorry for bothering you. Have a good day.

He started to walk away. He made it three steps.

-Wait!

He paused.

-Dammit, why am I doing this? she muttered to herself.

Stanley turned around.

-Wait, she repeated. Softer this time. Look, I didn't mean to come off quite so hostile.