25

My hand immediately hurts, but I'm too busy being pissed off at this guy.

"What the fuck!" he yells as he staggers backward.

"Don't ever hurt one of my friends again," I warn. My voice is surprisingly calm but full of hate. "You don't deserve to be with someone like Sarah. So, I'm warning you: don't ever touch, look, or even think about Sarah, understood? If you do, I'll make sure to do much more than just a punch in the face." I say.

"Whatever, bitch," he spits out.

Bad move. I'm about to hit him again, but someone holds me back. Karen says in my ear. "Let's go. C' mon, he's had enough. Let's go."

Her soothing words calm me down, so I let her drag me away. Liam is still giving me a bad look, but I don't care. He messed with my friend, and now he knows who he's dealing with.

"Emma, are you okay?" Tom rushes towards me and grabs me by the shoulders. He looks at me in the eyes worried, but I just smile at him. "I'm fine,"

"What about your hand?" he points. I look down. My hand is red and bruised and, as usual, as soon as I think about it, it starts to hurt.

"Ow," I say.

"Come on, let's go to the nurse's office," Tom suggests.

"No, I'm okay. I just need some ice, maybe." I say. "We can go ask in the cafeteria,"

Tom doesn't look convinced but nods nonetheless. He accompanies me to the cafeteria as Karen goes to class. I ask her to tell the teacher that I'll be coming.

"Sure thing," she says. "Later,"

We're able to get a patch of ice, and I can immediately feel the pain lessen. I hold it on my knuckles for a while. In the meantime, Tom gazes at me.

"What?" I ask. He's been staring at me for a long time. Did I have something on my face?

"Nothing, just… you're beautiful," he says.

The comment makes me blush, but at the same time, it's funny. "I just punched someone in the face, my knuckles are bruised and swollen, and you're telling me I'm beautiful." I joke.

"Actually, the fact that you punched someone much stronger than you… uh, no offense…" he says, and I just nod. "I honestly find it incredibly sexy."

"Really? Public acts of aggression turn you on?" I joke a big smile stamped in my face.

"No, you do," he says without skipping a beat.

"Okay, mister," I say, taking the ice off my hand. "Keep it in your pants. We're at school."

"Sorry, sorry," he smiles. "But do you want to go on a date tomorrow? I already know a place to go, but I won't tell you where 'cause it'll ruin the surprise. Okay?"

"Oooh, a surprise? How sweet." I say. "Okay, I'll be there. But right now, I have to move. Mrs. Kerr is going to kill me."

I thought I knew how special Tom was from the first day we got together. I was proven wrong.

Friday after school, Tom opens the car door for me and lets me in before running to the other side and turning the engine on. We drive for a few minutes, until Tom tells me, "Close your eyes from now on. We're about to arrive."

I shut my eyes and cover them up with my hands. Through the darkness, I can feel the car coming to a stop. I stay seated as I hear Tom opening his door and getting out. Shortly after, my door opens.

"Careful," he warns. "There are steps here,"

He guides me up to the stairs, then whispers in my ear, "Be quiet."

I hear a door open, but otherwise, silence. The door closes behind me, and suddenly I can't orientate myself. I can't see, but there are absolutely no smells and no sounds. Where in the world am I?

"Okay," Tom whispers. "You can open your eyes now."

I uncover my eyes and squint due to the bright light. When I suddenly realize where we are, I gasp loudly.

"Shhhhhh!" the librarian scolds.

"Sorry," Tom and I say at the same time. We look at each other and suppress a giggle. Then we turn around and start walking between books.

"You brought me to a library?" I say in awe. "Oh my god, this is… this is…" I can't find the words. "Amazing. I can't believe I found someone as good as you."

"You can get anything you want," Tom says. "It's on me."

I look at him in shock. "No. No, I'm buying my own stuff." I say. "Just bringing me here is unbelievably sweet; you don't have to buy me anything."

"I insist, please," he says. "I want to."

"I insist too," I say back. "I'm buying my own books."

"Okay, Nerd," he challenges. "Where's your wallet?"

"It's right…" I put my hand in my pocket, only to realize that I left my money in the car. "Damn it."

Tom laughs. "I guess we know who's paying."

"Shut up," I say. "You win this time, but I'll remember this. One day, I'll give you a gift so good you'll be crying."

"Just being with you is–" he starts to say.

"No! Don't say it." I warn. "Otherwise I'll have to kiss you, and I really don't want to do it in front of other people."

"There's no one around," he says, his eyes full of lust.

"Sure there is," I say, but I have to admit I'm falling for his little game. "There's the librarian right there."

"Then let her watch," he slips a hand behind my back and pulls me closer to him, placing his lips on mine. The kiss is less passionate than the first one, but it's more tender and warm. It's gentle and soft, and I can feel the pureness of our connection. It just feels right. Perfect, if you will.

We brake apart and stare in each other's eyes. I'm holding his arms, and I can't help but sense his strong biceps.

"That was awesome," Tom comments, which makes me giggle. "But we should probably choose our books and leave. The librarian is giving us the stink eye."

I glance at the woman behind the desk and see that – indeed – she's looking at us angrily.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," I say, and we get to work. I walk around the enormous shelves filled with remarkable novels, and their beauty amazes me. I know I may sound a bit weird talking about books this way, but I can't help it. I just have this connection with books; I think that who doesn't read, doesn't experience life. It's probably a bit overdramatic but – as George R.R. Martin has said - A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one. I completely agree with this quote. And books – obviously – are one of the few sources from which you can read.

But let's get back to the point – I have to choose some books.

I pick out a few, but most of them are much too expensive. I don't want to make Tom pay a fortune. In the end, I decide to get three: The Longest Ride by Nicholas Sparks, The Book Thief by Markus Zusak and Paper Towns by John Green. Strangely, I've never read a book by Nicholas Sparks or John Green, but I hear they're very good, so I give them a try.

"What did you choose?" I ask Tom as I see him with a pile of books in his hands.

"Don't know," he says. "I just picked out the one that attracted me the most."

We head towards the librarian and pay for the novels. She looks much happier than before, now that we were buying so many books.

We get in the car and drive home.