Mutually not Mutual

Whisper Among the Books

Pitter patter, pitter.

Rain started falling from the sky, gently coating the pebble-adorned pavements of Leavenworth, Washington. The beautiful mix of urban and suburban architecture lined the pathways, and small stores that looked straight out of a Christmas movie began closing their doors to shield themselves from the oncoming rain.

Daniel, a 22-year-old college student, had been up since dawn, wandering the streets with his camera, capturing the scenic surroundings like a tourist. His tall, slim frame moved with a sense of purpose, dressed in a white linen button-up shirt, dark brown corduroy pants, and black loafers. His dark chocolate hair, slightly tousled, contrasted against his olive skin, and his hazel eyes gleamed with the excitement of capturing the perfect shot. But as the rain started to come down harder, he hurried toward the nearest establishment with an awning. Content with the day's work, he decided he had taken enough photos for now.

Pulling out his phone, Daniel searched for the nearest public library. Fortunately, it was not too far from the "Argonaut Cafe" where he had taken refuge. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he walked along the wet road until he reached the Leavenworth Public Library.

Inside, the sound of rain drizzled against the windows in a slow, steady rhythm. Papers rustled, pencils scribbled, and the hushed voices of library-goers murmured amongst themselves, creating a peaceful ambiance. Daniel couldn't have asked for a better location to brainstorm for his portfolio.

After pulling a small towel out of his now wet book bag, Daniel carefully laid out his belongings: a notepad, a pen, his camera, and his laptop. He then used the towel to dry his damp dark hair, usually reserved as a soft cushion for his camera during nature shoots. He grunted in dismay when he noticed the top page of his notepad had gotten damp, just like his book bag. Draping the towel around his stiff neck, Daniel pursed his lips.

What a shame I have to waste a perfectly good sheet of paper...

He ripped the top page slowly, being mindful not to damage the pages below. Daniel hated waste of any sort, always opting to reuse items in his photography to avoid adding to the world's waste problem, a cause he was deeply invested in. Opening his laptop, he quickly typed in his password:

1444321

His slender, pale fingers glided across the keyboard, reenacting the same movements he had done since freshman year to begin every assignment. Daniel was a simple guy, evident in his straightforward password and how he labeled each photo he took: one titled "Campgrounds at Night," another "Wet Pathway." Yet, the photos he captured were effortlessly beautiful and full of depth.

Creak. Slam.

The library door swung open and closed swiftly as a plump, very drenched blonde rushed in, exasperated. "Why does the weather have to be so dreary?!" the blonde groaned, clutching her golden wet locks between her fingers, trying to squeeze the rain out of her hair.

Daniel took notice of her immediately. She was a curvy young woman with curly golden-blonde hair that seemed determined to stay beautiful despite the rain. Her pale, freckled skin was flushed from the cold, and she wore a red and white checkered spaghetti strap dress with a frilly white baby doll shirt underneath, which clung to her figure in the dampness.

He kept his eyes locked on her as she slowly drew closer from the front of the library, her vibrant presence captivating him. Why is she getting bigger? Daniel thought, admiring her beauty. The only thing running through his mind was how she would look in his photos—how he would capture her fair, freckled face glowing even in the dreariest of woods or her golden hair shimmering under the sun's soft touch.

"Hey, mister, do you happen to have a spare towel?" Daniel blinked, snapping out of his daze. The woman he had just been staring at was now standing right in front of his table. He stammered, "No, I uh—yeah, but no..." He cleared his throat, "I don't have another towel, I'm sorry," he managed to say, earning a frown from the woman.

She huffed, then confidently put her heavy backpack down on the table in front of Daniel and sat down as if she had been sitting there every day. "I'm Emma, nice to meet you. I'm new to the area, so I wasn't aware the weather could be so...sad," she said with a smile, tilting her head, her golden hair now tucked behind her flushed ear. "I didn't mean to scare you, just assumed you might have had another towel since you seem so prepared!" Emma giggled softly, her eyes gesturing to Daniel's neatly arranged setup in front of him.

Daniel awkwardly cleared his throat again. "I'm Daniel Everette," he replied quietly, looking down at his laptop screen as a photo began loading from his camera.

Emma smiled brightly. "Are you a photographer? You see, I'm an art transfer student at Boron University and have been trying to make friends in the area. I might come on a little strong, but I mean well, ya know?"

Daniel nodded, not knowing what to say, or perhaps too flustered to say anything. All he knew was that there was a stranger in front of him, and he wasn't used to talking to anyone outside of his professors at school. He typically stuck to himself and his camera.

Light slowly flooded through the windows as the gloomy clouds passed, taking the rain with them. Emma sighed, pulling her phone out of her backpack to check the time. "Well, it's time for me to get going now. What do you say we meet up sometime..." She glanced at him with anticipation.

"Daniel," he replied.

"Daniel! What do you say we meet up and redo this meeting in some better weather, eh? Here's my number—call me!" Emma grinned, scribbling her name down with his pen on the damp piece of paper Daniel had intended to throw away.

With a bright smile, Emma stood up, grabbed her backpack, and almost skipped out of the library, leaving just as quickly as she had come. Daniel glanced down at the piece of paper, his heart still racing from the strange encounter. Folding the once-discarded but now valuable paper, he tucked it into his phone case.

As it turned out, he was also a student at Boron University—an often lonely art major—but now, maybe not so lonely after all. A smile crept onto his face as he packed up his things and headed out for the day.