The Heartbreaker I Adore (When In Waverly 2)

Hannah

I watch as Seth walks through the library in a pair of very well-fitting jeans, a button-down flannel shirt, and a pair of Vans sneakers—the same style he has worn since he was in high school. He knows what he likes, and he’s consistent. I like that in a man. The scruff on his jawline tells me it’s his second day off, and sadly, he’ll have to shave it off in the morning before starting his twenty-four-hour shift at the firehouse. What a pity. He’s drool-worthy with a scruffy face. He is my every fantasy come to life.

Ugh. Stop it, Hannah!

I’ve got to get out of here and stop lusting over him. I need to forget that Seth Miller exists. Sure, that will be a little difficult, considering I’ve known him since I was two days old, but maybe I could knock my head on the brick wall outside and get selective amnesia. The doctor in While You Were Sleeping said it’s a thing, and as we all know, movies are always medically accurate. I wonder, though…do you get to decide who the selective amnesia erases from your memory? Probably not, and I’d hate to forget my mom or dad. Forgetting Colby would be okay, but then I’d have to meet him all over again at a family event. I’d rather not relive the shocking realization that my brother is a sociopath.

Millie, who is sitting beside me at the front desk, catches me staring at the six feet of man candy walking in my direction and waves a hand in front of my face. “Oh, right. Umm, I’m going to go look at something…back there…in the supply closet,” I say as I scamper to the hallway leading out of the main area. I don’t know what I’m doing. All I know is that I do not want to talk to Seth right now.

I slip into the supply closet and knock over all three brooms, which then crash into the vacuum cleaner. It would be a miracle if he didn’t hear that. What I want to know is why this library—that’s mostly covered in old, dingy carpet—needs three brooms. Something to ponder another time. Right now, I have bigger things to think about, like how long do I need to hide out in this closet? It smells horrendous in here, like a boys locker room full of unwashed socks and mildewed clothes. It’s probably the three brooms.

Why is Seth here, forcing me to hide in closets? I didn’t even know he likes reading. After years of careful observation, I thought I knew everything there is to know about him. I’ve never seen him in the library before. I’ve never even seen him willingly pick up a book. Of course he decides to take up a new love of reading right when I decide I’d rather suffocate from holding my breath in a smelly closet than interact with him. Surely, he’s gotten bored and left by now. What has it been? Five or ten minutes?

I open the door ever so slightly and peek out to make sure the coast is clear. Nothing except a cricket hopping around! I exit the closet just before Seth turns the corner and crashes into me. Just my luck.

“There you are. Millie was acting weird when I asked her where you ran off to. I was starting to wonder if you weren’t feeling well,” Seth says. Why is he acting so nice? Not that he isn’t typically nice, but where are all the sarcastic jokes that usually accompany conversations with him? And he was looking for me? He has never sought me out before.

“I’m fine. I was just in there,” I say, gesturing to the closet and realizing too late that I should have kept that to myself.

“Are you the janitor now?” he asks after he sees all the cleaning supplies. “Got a demotion, huh? What did you do to make Gertrude so angry?” There are the jokes. Finally! At least something feels normal. Normal is safe and doesn’t cause a thousand questions to run through my head.

“Oh, you know, the usual. I smiled in front of her, had a generally optimistic disposition. I didn’t quake in terror as she looked into my eyes.”

“Yeah, Ol’ Gertie does like to keep it strictly doom and gloom in here,” Seth says with a shiver. I slap my hand over his mouth and look around at our surroundings. Gertrude may be out of the building right now, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have her ways of finding out what’s going on at all hours of the day. I’m not convinced that she hasn’t paid Mark, the college kid who reshelves the books, to report back to her about everything that happens in her absence. It’s very likely the entire building is bugged, like in all of those spy movies. Someone referring to her as Ol’ Gertie would definitely be something she’d want to know about so she could destroy them with one of her withering stares.

Seth, Colby, and Jameson have been calling her Ol’ Gertie for years, but none have ever been brave—or stupid—enough to use the moniker within the walls of her library. Of course Seth would be the one foolish enough to break that streak.

“Seth, you can’t say that here. These very walls could be listening, waiting to tell her of your evil deeds. I refuse to go down with you. Gertrude, I have the utmost respect for you. You are a paragon of wisdom,” I say while glancing around at nothing in particular.

He pulls my hand from his mouth with an easy smile on his face that makes my eyes turn into giant hearts. Speaking of hearts, I think mine just took off in a gallop.

“Right, of course. You’ve already been demoted once already. You’ll be paying her to work before we know it, if you keep it up.”

“Speaking of janitors, though, I am going to tell Carol—she’s the cleaning lady—that those brooms smell like wet dogs. Or do you think that sounds rude?” Carol’s really nice, and I would hate to offend her. Maybe I’ll just buy a new broom and throw the others away. She probably wouldn’t think much of it.

Seth’s face scrunches up in confusion, and he lets out a soft laugh. “Why are we talking about brooms?”

“Stand in that closet for five seconds, and then you’ll understand!”

“Are you okay? Look, I just came by to see how you’re doing,” Seth says. His eyes shift around the room as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Gosh, have I mentioned how good these jeans look on him? I don’t get to see him in clothes like this very often. He’s usually wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt or those navy-blue utility pants he wears when he’s on shift at the fire station.

“Did Colby make you stop by? He’s been hovering and bossing me around like he’s my father for days. I can’t take it anymore. I might have to find somewhere else to stay.” I begin pacing in front of him, and he places a hand firmly on my shoulder to stop me. I shrug his hand off. I don’t need anything distracting me from my anger. I need to marinate in it so I can go off on Colby like a rocket when I get back to his house later.

“He didn’t tell me to come by. I came to check on you because I wanted to. I’ve been worried,” Seth says. My heart skips a beat—or five. Never in the history of our relationship—if you can really call it that—has Seth ever paid more than a modicum of attention to me and what’s going on in my life. He has certainly never checked on me or worried about me, as far as I know.

Well, he did visit me in the hospital after I had my appendix removed when I was nine, but it was only because his mom had dragged him there. He sat and twiddled his thumbs while our moms talked for hours. I can’t even blame the guy. He’s eight years older. He was a teenager while I was a small child. He turned into a man while I was going through my own angsty teenage years. Why would he pay attention to me?

On the other hand, all I ever could do was watch him. The way he wore a perpetual smile and his obnoxious laugh that he gave away so freely was what first drew me to him. Then, my mom started dragging me to his baseball games when he, Colby, and Jameson were in high school, and that was when I knew that Seth Miller was the man for me. Never mind the fact that I was, like, seven and should have been chasing little scrawny boys around playgrounds. That would have been much more appropriate, but the heart wants what the heart wants. And my heart wanted Seth Miller more than anything else in the entire world.

I watched him take girls to school dances and kiss girls on the baseball or football fields after his team won a game. Then, as I got older, I had the torture of seeing him around town with his endless string of girlfriends. This particular brand of torture is still ongoing. I don’t even know what hole he digs these girls out of, but they need to crawl back in there and bury themselves under a mountain of dirt.

“Oh, well, yes, I’m fine,” I say in a high-pitched voice. I turn to walk back to the desk, hoping that Seth will get the hint that this conversation is over. Seth falls in step behind me. He didn’t get the hint.

“Are you sure? You’re acting a little strange, and the way you looked the other night has had me worried for days,” he says. How would he know what’s normal and what’s strange for me? And anyone would look rough after being awoken in the middle of the night to their house burning down around them! I sit myself down behind the desk and look over at Millie working in the children’s section…or should I say spying. Her head is peeking up over the top of her computer, and her eyes are glued to me and Seth. I narrow my eyes to let her know that I’m onto her, and she slouches down in her seat to hide from me.

“I’m great, thanks. Are you going to check out a book?” I ask to get his attention off of me. He’s making me nervous, and I don’t like it. He watches me for a moment before taking a deep breath that makes his chest rise and fall.

“No, I’m not getting a book,” he says and shows me his empty hands. “I’ll see you later, Hannanah.” A big smile spreads across his face as he turns to walk away.