Chapter Two

It's been awhile since my mother passed away. Since then I've gotten a job at the twenty-four hour library, moved to my brother's apartment in downtown Talkin, Florida and have been keeping up my grades. Talk about achievement.

"Zoey? It's about time for work. Shouldn't you start heading out? I've got Miley," my brother Dylan called from the living room.

Before heading out into the hall I peeked into the living room to see that he wasn't lying. "Alright. There's tuna casserole in the oven. I should be back around 10:30. Don't stay up."

Dylan laughed as I shut the door behind me and made my way downstairs. Within a few minutes, I had gotten to the front of Talkin's library.

My thoughts raced as I replayed telling Miley, four, and Dylan, twenty. As an eighteen year old, that was hard. It would be even if you were fifty.

Miley's pale face was covered by her dirty-blonde hair. Her blue eyes only reminded me more of Mom. She had always wanted a blue eyed baby.

Dylan was like me. Strong but fighting the tears. For Miley. Behind his protected brown eyes was a boy in pain. Like Miley, he has dirty-blonde hair.

"Zoey Smith! There you are. Could you put these books away? They are from last week when Toby was here. That boy does absolutely nothing," Ms. Brooks greeted me in her usual perky way. She was a chubby woman in her late fifties. Glasses that completed the friendly Mrs. Clause look very well. Kids love her, even if they don't believe in Santa.

I smiled and wheeled the cart to aisle four. As I put books away, I was watching a boy about five glaring at a Harry Potter book. It was pretty funny, seeing as he was attempting to read it upside down.

"Hi. Do you mind?" I asked, flipping the book right side up. A smile from him and I was away again, focusing on putting the books back on the shelf.

Talkin High School. I'm a senior there and working very hard on my grades, trying to keep my promise to Mom. It gets harder with every story about intolerable mothers and curfews. These people are idiots for wishing that their mother would die because they wouldn't let them go to a party, which, by the way, would have no good come of anyway. Honestly, I want to go to their house and tell their mothers that they are doing an awesome job with their children and to maybe be stricter. But that's just my opinion. I can only speak for myself.

"Hi. Is something wrong…Zoey?" a voice behind asked. Spinning on him/her I got a good look of a biker dude sitting next to the little boy I had helped earlier.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Your face looked like you were angry. I'm sorry if I bothered you," the guy said while walking away. I immediately made a straight face and went back to my books.

"You know, he's right. You looked intent on something. Got a problem?" the biker questioned from his seat next to the boy.

"I was pretty intent on putting the books away."

"That's not it. What else? Maybe I can help. My dad is a therapist, you know," he replied. Smiling, I realized he had his arm around the kid and had switched the Harry Potter book with a Dr. Suess one.

"Maybe another time," I answered with a smirk.

The guy smiled. "I'll come by tomorrow. Same time."

"And if I don't show?"

"Then I'll ask the librarian for your schedule."

I couldn't help but laugh. "So if I don't show, you will stalk me?"

"I can get your address, too."

"Why, you're a persistent devil. 5:30 tomorrow. Don't be late," I said.

The guy got up and led the kid to the library door. "Don't be early. And my name is Eli Rickington. Till tomorrow, Zoey." And with that, my life is becoming a tad closer to normal.