My lover is radiant and ruddy; outstanding among a thousand.

I blushed and set the book down. Why was I reading Song of Songs? Grandmother always forbade me from looking into that book in the Bible, saying that it wasn't Christian. I would reply with that "if it wasn't Christian, why was it in the Bible". She would never give me a straight answer though, she would always tell me to go get something else to read aloud to her. She was tough love and a sewing needle, but my Grandmother wasn't always that bad. Just from a different time I guess. Tucking the volume back into the shelf, I continued to put away the books.

I had volunteered myself to help out Mr. Cummings in the library for the two weeks to give me something to do while everyone else was in class. I soon found myself laden down with so many leather bound tomes, slipping them into their little homes in the various shelves. Right now I was on the floor, trying to organize the bottom book sills. However, curiosity drove me to take out that book again and flip to that forbidden chapter.

My lover has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to browse in the gardens and to gather lilies. I am my lover's and my lover is mine; he browses among to lilies.

Suddenly a pair of hands went across my eyes,

"Now, now, what would grandmother say if she knew you were reading 'Song of Songs'?" A voice asked.

I smirked and pushed Charlie's hands aside, "The same thing she would think if she knew you had those 'naughty magazines' hidden under your bed." I replied standing and grinning evilly at my brother.

He was only about a half inch taller than me, and it annoyed him so much that we could see eye to eye. He smirked back and tousled my hair like he always did, "Alright then, we're even."

He leaned his back against the book shelf, and continued to inspect his finger tips, "So, you have chained yourself to duty in the rat trap?" he inquired.

He had always called the library the rat trap; don't ask me why because I don't know.

"Yes," I answered kneeling back down again to put away a copy of Dickens that I found among the encyclopedias.

"Say, Rache, would you mind doing me a big favor?" He said, suddenly acting like himself and not the cocky bastard he portrayed so very often.

"What?" I asked, exasperated, not being able to find the second volume of Pride and Prejudice. What kind of hormone charged, self respecting guy would read Jane Austen? I decided it was best not to ask, since I had spied a copy of Mansfield Park on Mr. Cummings' desk.

"Well, Knox hasn't been feeling like himself lately." Charlie explained, "You know, about Chris. I was wondering if you could sort of help him out a bit, you know advice about what to do with girls,"

"You mean you're asking my help?" I inquired turning to him, Charlie never asked my help on anything, "Charlie Dalton is asking his 'kid sister' to help him out. How cute is this," I chuckled as I turned back to the book shelf,

"Oh come on Rachael, I'm not a girl so I wouldn't know how to help him. He's a good kid, he shouldn't have to be feeling this way, rejected I mean," Charlie pleaded.

I sighed and looked over at him, "Alright, alright, I'll help you out," I consented.

Charlie looked at me and smiled, "Thanks Dolls, you're the greatest,"

"Right after I finished with this pile of book, I'll go find him and talk to him, but I can't promise he'll be back to being his chipper old self," I said, continuing to put books away.

"Thanks a ton, kid," He said, straightening up, "You're great Dolls, never change,"

And with that he left me to my thoughts and the books.

I finished the pile and asked Mr. Cummings if I could have a break to go out and get something to eat. He consented with a smile and turned back to his type writer.

The sun was gracious today, and the students seemed content just lie around enjoying the last drops of this year's sun. All except for Mr. Overstreet, who sat forlornly under a tall maple.

"I half expected to find you underneath a sycamore tree," I said coming up beside him and sitting down. He looked at me questionably,

"Why a sycamore tree?" He asked.

"Haven't you been forced to read Romeo and Juliet yet?" I asked crossing my legs in front of me. Today I wore my blue skirt and white button up uniform shirt, just for conformity's sake.

Knox nodded warily, "But what does that have to do with sycamore trees?"

"Well, in the story, when he first thinks he's in love with Rosalind, he mopes about it under sycamore trees. Sycamore trees are for unrequited love, get it? Sick-of-Amore, Amore means love-"

"Yah, yah I get it," Knox said waving his hand.

"Well I found it clever," I commented.

Knox chuckled, "Yah, just what I need, someone to cleverly torture me about Chris,"

"Sorry, I thought it would cheer you up," I said, twisting my ring around my finger.

"It's alright," He answered drearily.

"You know," I said sitting up, "Girls these days can't do all the work,"

I looked off into the distance, but I could tell he was interested.

"What do you mean?" He asked, setting down the dandelion he had been decapitating.

"Well," I said casually, "Us girls, we're brought up being told not to chase, if you get my drift. Let them call you, you never call a boy." I accentuated the word call to get my point across.

"Yah, I guess your right," He replied, "But still, she had a boyfriend,"

"Knox," I said turning to him, "A girls not taken till she's got a ring on her finger," I arched an eyebrow and stood up.

Knox seemed to be processing this information and sat for a while longer.

"Yah, you're right," He stood, "Hey by the way, we have a meeting this afternoon,"

"Alright, I'll be there," I answered, "But now I have to get back to the library,"

"Okay,"

I turned to leave the cool shade of the tree, the leaves on the ground crunching underneath my black Mary Jane shoes.

"Hey Rachael,"

I turned back.

"Thanks," Knox said grinning.

"Anytime Romeo," I replied and made my way back to the library.