Sloane Lindquist's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

The next afternoon, Sloane climbed the wide steps of the grand library and pushed inside. She found him at a back table, his leather portfolio open, a brass calculator clicking over a spread of receipts. She set her marked research folder down across from him and sat. He did not look up. She had planned three opening lines. She felt each one fall apart in her mouth. Rehearsed words would bounce off him like coins off glass. So she said nothing. She opened her folder and pretended to read. Minutes passed. The calculator clicked. Then he spoke without lifting his head. "You don't have a reason to be here." His voice was flat, almost bored. "If you give me a practiced one, I'm leaving." Her chest tightened. Every careful answer she owned was useless. She closed the folder. "I wanted to sit near you," she said. "That's the whole reason. I don't have a better one." He stopped clicking. He pushed his silver spectacles up his nose and finally looked at her, longer than before. He didn't smile. He didn't leave. He slid the calculator two inches aside and went back to his receipts, making room. Sloane breathed out. She had told him one true thing, and he had let her stay.