Work Text:
As the Star Wars soundtrack played through her earphones, Tara wondered if she would be the first person to die of boredom, or just the first one to die of boredom in a library.
At the beginning of the summer holidays, the job had been a literal divine intervention. Her mum had gone to the library for a book on pregnancy (because two previous pregnancies apparently hadn't given her enough knowledge already) and saw the poster looking for part-time staff. Tara had jumped at the prospect of some easy money. And when she went to apply, she was given the job on the spot; she was the first, and only, applicant. She understood why after a few days into the job.
Tara would've described the village library as 'cosy' or 'vintage' before, but 'ancient shoebox' was probably a better description. She looked around the room now; dust shimmered and fell like snow in the light and countless books lined the walls. The shelves made the ground floor feel even more cramped. Tara took every opportunity to spend time upstairs in the lounge area. The endearingly old and mismatched furniture was Tara’s favourite thing about the library.
Now, though, she was mindlessly scanning book returns and taking note of the people who came and went. It was all regulars: the weedy blond guy from Truham who loitered around the classics section but had a subpar browsing-to-borrowing ratio, the old man who was always at the computers, the woman who checked out more books than everyone else combined. Skye, the sweet head librarian, and Stephen, her less sweet assistant, were upstairs in the office. Tara was listening to film music. Everything was regular.
Until a girl arrived, and it wasn't.
The first chords of Rey’s Theme began to play when she walked in. Charged in was a better description, actually. Tara thought the music suited this girl. She sort of looked like a Rey. And that girl from Game of Thrones, but mostly a Rey. She had a bounce in her steps and looked like she was on a mission. She didn't fit in with the slow, quiet library; her steps were too fast and her clothes too bright and loud. Her thick brows were furrowed. Tara continued to scan books and log in details, but her eyes were drawn back to every sudden movement of white-blonde hair.
Tara eventually got distracted by a book that was refusing to be scanned. This happened a lot, the computer was pretty shit. The details just had to be filled out manually instead, but after the computer failed to log the details for a fourth time, Tara was ready to pull out her hair. And the weedy guy’s. And the woman’s. And Stephen’s, if he actually had any.
She opted for the next best thing: throwing the book to the bottom of the return box and hoping her shift would be over before she had to deal with it again. She turned to get rid of the book and realised that Rey with white-blonde hair was standing in front of the desk and probably had been for a while. Fuck.
"Sorry, sorry! Do you need some help?" She said quickly.
Rey’s brows were still furrowed, but now she had a small smile on her face. "Don't worry about it. You looked like you were ready to bash someone’s head in with that computer, so really, I was just protecting myself."
Tara let out a laugh and quickly stopped when the weedy guy looked over at them. She lowered her voice slightly. "Uh, yeah, libraries are way more violent than you'd think."
"I can imagine. Blood flowing, hardback copies of War & Peace smashing some skulls..."
Tara snorted and the girl smiled.
"Anyway, could I take this book?"
"Of course, if I can get the computer to work." Tara took the book from her "I've read this before, actually."
"Really? Is it any good? I'm not one for reading, I’m more into films and maths than English, but my friend recommended it, plus it’s a graphic novel. I looked at some of it online, but I thought I'd get the rest of it in a book."
This girl liked to talk. Tara found that she liked to listen. She looked at the book. "It’s good. Probably the sweetest thing you'll ever read, but I'll warn you it got quite angsty in chapter four. Would you be able to handle it?"
"Probably, but just in case I do die from an angst overdose, I'll make sure to leave you the book in my will," she said. "What’s your name?"
"Tara Jones."
"Well, Tara Jones, here you go." The girl handed over her library card. "Feels like I'm handing over my death warrant."
"The author will appreciate your sacrifice." Tara scanned the library card, then scanned it again, and again, and once more for good measure. Nothing. "For God's sake! This computer is terrible, I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it wasn't like you built it. Unless you're a time-traveller, but I doubt a time-traveller would go somewhere this dull."
"Nope, not a time-traveller, just in need of a job. If I was a time-traveller, I'd get the winning lotto numbers, so I'd never had to work again."
"Or go full-on evil villain and set the library on fire so there’s no library to even work in?"
"Both valid options." Tara nodded thoughtfully. "You know what, if you still want the book, I can just take your name and phone number and add the details to the computer later?"
"Yeah, cool! It’s Darcy Olsson."
Not Rey then, Tara thought as she took down Darcy’s phone number. A nice name, though. "Okay, if you survive this book, you can return it in three weeks."
"Great!" Darcy took the book. She stood there for a moment, looking at Tara, but then quickly turned around to leave. "Thanks, Jones. See you later!"
"Yep, bye!" Tara said with equal enthusiasm, but she doubted that she would ever see Darcy again. She would be back in three weeks to return the book (unless she never returned it and Tara had to send an awkward "give us our book" text), and then probably never come again.
Not that Tara was sad about that; it wasn't like she was lonely. She met her friends when she wasn’t working, she had Skye and Stephen and the regulars. And she was in a loving, committed relationship with the Dewey Decimal System. Definitely not lonely. But she had liked listening to Darcy. And looking at her white-blonde hair. Suddenly, the computer started whirring and rebooted itself. Back to work, then.
Tara knew a lot about Darcy now. She wasn't exactly sure when that had happened. Tara had soon realised that Darcy did plan on seeing her again; she came back to the library a few days later, not to get a book, just to look around and have a chat. And then she kept coming back to look around and have a chat. Now, barely two weeks after their first meeting, Darcy came to the library every day but didn't really spend much time looking at the books.
So, Tara knew a lot about Darcy. She knew that Darcy liked brown sauce in her sandwiches. She knew that she attended the Academy. She knew that she had a brother, Rochester, studying biotechnology in Norway, where he was staying with relatives. She knew that she smashed the keyboard instead of sending actual emojis. She knew that she played the trumpet in the school orchestra and that she loved cycling. She knew that her hair was actually dyed (no one could have hair that brilliant) and that she maybe wanted to be a youth worker when she was older.
She also liked a lot about Darcy. She liked her dry humour and how she randomly quoted Vines. She liked her dorky graphic tees. She liked how Darcy was just always herself and didn't care if people disliked her. She liked how Darcy had taken to calling her "Jonesy" all the time. She also liked how she made her feel: like she could actually talk to Darcy without worrying if she was zoned out or didn't care (well, Tara was fairly certain Darcy didn't really care about orchestras and famous clarinet players, but she asked Tara questions and smiled and compared Tara to Squidward). She also really liked her eyebrows, her hair and her smirks.
Tara wasn't quite sure when she and Darcy had crossed over the line from acquaintances to actual friends, and how it had happened so quickly, and why Darcy didn't actually feel like any other friend. But before she could ever question it too much, Darcy found another absurd romance novel that they could laugh at.
Unfortunately, Tara still had a job that required work, albeit rarely. Work that got done a lot quicker when Darcy wasn't at her heel, distracting her. So, Tara was upstairs, putting books back on shelves, while Darcy was downstairs, probably playing games or listening to music, waiting for Tara to finish. The only sections upstairs were the children and young adult novels, which seemed to constantly rearrange themselves. Tara was moving between the shelves, putting everything back where it belongs. She found a copy of Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe wedged between copies of Matilda and The Gruffalo . She just held it for a minute, looking at the bright red pick-up truck against the blue background. It had been a while since Tara had read it, but it was one of her favourites. She loved the part about finding all the secrets of the universe in someone’s hand. It'd be nice to find someone who made you feel like that.
"Jonesy!" A frantic voice whispered in Tara’s ear and a hand grabbed her wrist.
"Holy fuck-" Tara turned around and saw blonde hair and wide eyes. "Darcy! Stop doing that, it’s like you just appear out of nowhere."
"In case you hadn't realised, we're in a library, so silence is key — anyway." Darcy shook her head and grinned wickedly. "Oh my fuck, Jonesy, you won’t believe what I just saw."
"What, you finally caught the Truham guy wanking to The Great Gatsby?"
"Just come on." Darcy tugged on Tara’s arm and pulled her towards the stairs. Tara was very aware of Darcy’s hand wrapped around her wrist. It was warm. Darcy’s hand was actually quite small: Tara had never noticed that before.
"Okay," Darcy said, stopping abruptly just before the bottom of the stairs and nodding her head pointedly, "Look."
From where they were standing, Tara and Darcy had a view of the computer section. Tara can see that the old man was on one of the computers, as usual. He had headphones in, and Tara couldn't make out exactly what he was doing, but it was obvious enough that he was listening to music. Tara wasn’t sure what the fuss was, but there must have been something that caused Darcy to lose her shit. Tara realised what it was when the old man switched tabs on the computer.
"What the fuck. What the fuck."
" Is this allowed ?" Darcy put on a terrible American accent. It really wasn't a time for Vine references.
"Fuck, he does know this is a library, didn't he? And that you can't look at pictures of naked girls in a library?"
"With David Bowie setting the mood for him."
"Oh yeah, well then it’s fine, let's just leave him to it!" Tara pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. "Oh my God."
"You had to admit, it was pretty funny." Darcy said.
"Yes, and it would be even funnier if I wasn't the one that’s going to have to ask him to stop."
"It’s fine, just go over and say, 'I too appreciate the female body and it’s great you can still get it up in your old age, but kindly fuck off'."
"Darcy!"
"I suppose that’s more like something I'd say, but you should still tell him to fuck off."
Tara groaned, "This is going to be awful. I mean, I'm fairly sure Skye is friends with him and I doubt she'd be happy to hear he was looking at porn in the library. We couldn't just leave him, could we? Or make Stephen do it, he loves getting annoyed."
Darcy gave her a look.
Tara sighed. "Alright, I'll just... subtly tell him that there are certain levels of discretion in the library or something... he'll get the message."
Darcy rolled her eyes and let go of Tara’s wrist, "Good luck, you big swot."
Tara walked towards the man cautiously, the same way you might approach a phone after you've dropped it. This was literally the worst thing. Tara hated confrontation. She looked around the room; there weren’t even many people in it, and it looked like none of them had seen what Tara and Darcy did. If she just didn't say anything to the man, he'd probably just leave soon enough, and they wouldn't had to deal with something like this ever again. It wasn’t like he was always looking at porn in the library... or maybe he was, and this was just the first time anyone had noticed. Tara turned her head around and Darcy was still standing on the stairs, her eyebrows raised expectantly. She had to do this. Shit.
Tara walked around the man, so she could look at Darcy if she needed to. He still hadn't noticed her. She tapped him quickly on the shoulder before she could give it any more thought. He looked up at her with a grumpy expression.
"Hi, sorry to bother you, but, um, it’s just there isn't a lot of privacy in the library..."
"Sorry, love?" He was only removing his headphones now. Tara hated it when people called her love like that, like she was lost.
She tried to look more serious. Subtle but direct. "Well, I saw what you were looking at, and there was certain things you can't do on computers here."
"What?" He had the gall to act confused, looking at his computer. It was on the music tab right now. He couldn't seriously think Tara was telling him off for Ziggy fucking Stardust. She could literally see the tab that says, "HOT GEORDIES 4U".
“Okay, it’s just-”
"Is there a problem, love?" He was looking right at Tara now, like he was challenging her. He knew what Tara meant. He was around the library enough to know Tara was too awkward to just tell him to fuck off.
Tara took a quick look at Darcy, who was still on the stairs. But now, she was grinning like she was trying to hold in a laugh. The nerve of her looking like that when Tara was ready to shit a brick. With her cute smirk, and her ridiculous eyebrows, and her small, very hold-able hands and her fucking hair that Tara just wanted to run her hands through and touch if she ever got to kiss Darcy-
"Stop that!" Tara told herself. What was that? Tara didn't like girls, and she definitely didn't like her friend. Definitely not her smile, eyebrows, hair or hands. Shit.
"I beg your pardon?" The old man sputtered out. It came to Tara’s attention that she might had told herself to stop out loud. The old man looked like a brick was just shoved up his arse. And now everyone in the library was staring at her. Including Darcy, whose hands were literally cupping her face like a bloody cartoon. Tara looked back down at the old man. Fuck it.
"You're more than welcome to come to the library and use our services," Tara said "But if you're going to watch porn and then be a prick about it, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
His face reddened. "Now listen here, I-"
"I don't care what you like to watch in your free time, but children come to this library and they shouldn't have to see your guilty pleasures. Now please leave." Tara probably could've told the Queen to suck a dick, she was on a roll.
The old man stared at Tara, like he was actually going to fight her on this, but then he shoved his chair up and grumbled out of the library. Tara watched him leave triumphantly, but that triumph quickly simmered down when she realised that the few people in the library were still staring at her. As much as Tara might enjoy attention, she was ready to sink into the floor. She gave them a small nod and walked quickly back over to Darcy, who was grinning madly.
"Holy shit, Jonesy! I didn't know you had in you!" Darcy said, gesturing wildly. Up close, Tara was even more fixated on Darcy; her eyebrows, her hair, her hands, her laugh. She just wanted to hold Darcy’s hands, or just hold her in general, and be the one to make her laugh. Okay. Shit.
"Yeah," Tara couldn't help but smile back, "I didn’t know either."
Surprisingly, the simplest thing about the whole situation for Tara was accepting her crush on Darcy. Looking back, it was actually weird how oblivious she was to her own feelings. She loved Darcy’s quick humour and courage. She loved her graphic tees and printed shirts and just how Darcy they were. Seeing Darcy was like listening to her favourite song. Now Tara just knew she really wanted to kiss her and do all the other relationship stuff too. That part was easy to understand. The real issues were what came from this understanding.
Tara had always been alright with her sexuality, she never even questioned it. She was a girl, she liked boys. It wasn't like she was living in some heterosexual bubble, she knew gay people existed. The first boy she kissed, Nick Nelson, even had a boyfriend now. She just never never thought of herself in that way before.
Nick Nelson was actually a good place to start, she thought, considering he was the only boy she was kissed. From what she remembered, it was a nice, sloppy, typical year 8 disco kiss. She was obviously happy to have had her first kiss, and she chose to like Nick for a reason; he was nice, not as laddish as his friends and good-looking. She never really bothered with kissing or boys after that. She always thought she was too busy with school and orchestra to ever think seriously about any boys, and any boys she did decide to had a crush on were never attainable anyway.
Then, the realisation crept on Tara that she had always decided to had crushes on boys. She thought about her ‘crushes’ in the past: Nick, Aaron Ness, James Burman in the year ahead, even her embarrassing obsession with Daniel Radcliffe from age eleven to thirteen. She’d always chosen to like them. Aaron Ness had always been nice to her when they saw each other, so she’d decided she had a crush on him. James Burman had been one of the most popular boys in Truham and all her friends had always talked about how hot he was, so she had wanted to like him too. And every girl had a crush on a celebrity, and Tara loved Harry Potter, so she’d become obsessed with Daniel Radcliffe. She would turn her feelings on like a switch rather than letting her feelings decide for her. Tara had never realised the difference between the two, and she still wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference if it weren’t for Darcy.
Darcy was a whole other issue in and of herself. Tara was certain of her feelings for Darcy, but she was considerably less certain of Darcy’s feelings. Relationships had never come up in conversation between them, so Tara couldn’t say what Darcy was into. There had been offhand comments, saying she found some girl on Instagram pretty or saying “I too can appreciate the female body” during the whole porn incident. But Tara heard her friends calling plenty of girls pretty and she didn't think she could put much stock into the porn incident. In reality, she could convince herself that any throw-away comment was indicative of Darcy’s sexuality, but actually doing something about it was impossible. Even if Darcy did like girls, that didn't mean she liked Tara. Tara wasn't about to risk their friendship; she’d rather have these feelings and keep her friendship with an oblivious Darcy than fuck it all up, lose Darcy and still have these feelings.
Tara realised that there was probably a book somewhere in the library that would give her all the divine wisdom she needed, but she didn't need some self-help book to know she was fucked.
“Tara, dear?” a voice interrupted Tara’s angsty gay bullshit. Skye was standing on the other side of the desk, looking like every sweet grandmother from a children’s book.
“Yeah? You alright?” Tara asked. She was very fond of the old librarian, even if she did seem a bit scattered sometimes.
“Oh yes, dear.” Skye had a very soft voice that reminded Tara of ASMR YouTubers. “I was only wondering if, well you see, after all that nasty business with the computer, I wanted to fix up the computers, so it wouldn’t happen again.” She paused, waiting for Tara to nod in understanding, like always. When she did, Skye continued.
“Now, my Gerry knew a fellow who works in IT, and I'm off to meet him to sort the whole thing out.” Tara nodded again; she had heard Skye mention ‘her Gerry’ a few times before. “I know you usually leave at five on Fridays, but Stephen’s already off and this man was very insistent on meeting today. Would you mind staying on ‘til eight this evening? Of course, you’ll get paid the extra hours, and it usually quiets down quickly enough.”
Tara considered it; she was never one to turn down some extra money, and she always just walked home anyway. “Sure, Skye, it’s no trouble.”
“Lovely, thanks very much, dear. I’ll be off then.” Skye took off, leaving Tara alone at the desk once again.
She wasn't alone for long though. Darcy crept up on her, greeting her with her typical “Jonesy!”.
“I’m starting to think you’re just teleporting, Darcy.” Tara said after practically yelping.
“I’m all about the stealth.” Darcy grinned cheekily and leaned against the desk. “Anyway, I was wondering what time you’re finishing up at? There’s that new film out with Lily James, do you want to go see it, maybe?”
Tara could feel her face heat up. This wasn't a date thing, was it? Loads of friends went to the cinema. Even though Darcy and Tara had never actually hung out outside the library before. Either way, it was shit timing.
“Sorry, but Skye just asked me to stay on longer this evening, actually. She’s gone to sort out the computers.” Tara said.
Darcy face fell for a split second before returning to its usual cheeky grin. Tara might not have noticed if she wasn’t constantly focused on every part of Darcy’s face.
Darcy shrugged. “That’s alright, someone had to protect the library from kinky old men. Still, it might get boring, and do you really want to be alone all evening —”
“Will you stay with me?”
Will you stay with me? Yes, Tara, that was a completely platonic way to ask your friend to hang out with you. May as well ask her does she want to hold hands under the stars, too.
Darcy’s face froze (fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck) until she sighed dramatically, resting her head on her hand. “Well if you insist. I could never say no to you, Jonesy.”
Tara could feel every ounce of common-sense dissolve into the smile on her face. When did she become such a bloody sap?
“Great! And if you still want to watch a film, I think we have a projector somewhere, we could set it up upstairs and find something to watch? Just if you want, that is.”
“Sounds perfect. Is that what you want to do?”
Oh God. Tara was ready to ask Darcy would she say no to pinning her on the desk and snogging her senseless, until weedy guy (Liam? Louis?) showed up, asking if they had Fahrenheit 451. Considering they didn’t have a lot of books until he asked for them, Tara doubted they had this book either, but she checked anyway. She glanced over at Darcy, who gave her a thumbs up before going upstairs to do whatever she did when Tara was working.
So, Tara was going to be completely alone with Darcy and watch a film with her. Which was a completely platonic thing to do but. Fuck.
By half four, everyone had left the library, with no sign of anyone else arriving. Tara and Darcy decided to get to work on their completely platonic evening. Tara found the projector and a small speaker in a cupboard and managed to connect them to Skye’s computer in her office after finding a strangely long cable that let her move the projector outside the office. Darcy was tasked with the important job of going to the shop to get some food. When she got back with packs of Maltesers and Doritos, Darcy pointed out that they didn’t actually have a projector screen. She ended up precariously placing the fragile projector between a series of books, so it faced upwards, projecting onto the ceiling. With all the window blinds down, it almost felt like a cinema.
“This definitely isn't going to get annoying.” Tara craned her neck up to look at the projection on the ceiling.
Darcy flopped on one of the coaches, “So immersive, though. Like looking up at the stars.” She suddenly jumped off the coach, like an excitable puppy, “Can we watch Star Wars?! This is the best idea I will ever have; I love those films so much.”
“Sure! The music in all those films are incredible, like the composer tells his own story with it. Like in the Force Awakens, Kylo Ren had these two leitmotifs, and one of them is like a snarl, it’s full of anger. And his second leitmotif is brutal but with this vulnerability, to show his doubts... sorry, that wasn’t necessary. Should’ve left it at ‘sure’.”
Darcy just smiled (fondly? With affection? Shut up, Tara.), “Glad to know you’re definitely enthusiastic. We’ll watch the Force Awakens, then, since you’re clearly thirsty for Kylo Ren.”
“You’ve got me, I fantasise about Kylo Ren every night, I’m going to join the Dark Side, I want Kylo to force choke me-”
“Okay that’s enough, don’t get too excited or you’ll be joining Mr. Hot-Geordies-4-U on the very official Library Thot List. I’m partial to Daisy Ridley but... let’s start the film.”
Alright. That’s a fairly fucking gay thing to say. But Tara was strictly platonic. Platonic. She found the film on Netflix and then joined Darcy on the couch, keeping a respectable, platonic distance between them. They looked up at the ceiling in silence for a few moments, Tara feeling optimistic about her platonic choices, until Darcy shuffled closer to Tara. A lot closer. Like, Tara could now kind of feel Darcy’s breath on her face close. In any other situation, the combination of chocolate and Doritos would disgust Tara and she would push whoever it was away. Now, she was too scared to move.
“Hey, Jonesy?” Darcy whispered.
“Mm-hmm?” Tara thought if she said any actual words right now, they would ruin everything.
“ Turn off the flash, you fucking moron .”
“Wha- OH JESUS FUCK.” Tara jumped at the unexpected blare of the opening theme coming from the speakers.
Tears were streaming down Darcy’s face. She couldn't get out any words, other than the attempted “You fucking-” or “Oh my Go-”.
“You bitch !” Tara said a few times over Darcy’s laugh/cry in shock. It was replaced by a very different shock when Darcy rested her face in Tara was shoulder, still laughing. She felt electric.
“Okay, come on,” Tara gave Darcy a gentle nudge to get off her shoulder, “We’re gonna miss the film.”
Darcy did move, but only a small bit, just about keeping her on the edge of platonic. But this was fine. Darcy was still sniggering to herself, she might not notice Tara spontaneously combusting.
They continued watching the film in comfortable silence, apart from the occasional joke or comment, until they got to the first scene on Jakku. Hearing Rey’s Theme playing took Tara back to nearly three weeks ago, when she first saw Darcy. She had been such an idiot. A blind, heterosexual idiot.
“I was listening to this the first time I saw you,” Tara said without thinking. Fuck, she was really digging herself into a cosy little hole, wasn't she?
“What?” Darcy turned her head to face Tara.
“Well, I mean I had my earphones in, and Rey’s song was playing and you just sort of ran in here, the music suited you… I even called you Rey in my head.” Tara reckoned that it was the dark room and cinema atmosphere that was turning her into an idiot.
But Darcy had a small smile on her face. It felt private. “I thought you looked really bored. I just wanted to make your day slightly better.”
“Y-you did.”
“Good. You also looked like you wanted to pull your hair out at some point, so maybe I was just intimidated.” As if to emphasise her point, Darcy put her hand over Tara’s. And she didn't take it off.
Tara didn't say anything else, not being able to form coherent words, so Darcy just turned back to the ceiling. She still didn't move her hand off. In fact, she squeezed Tara’s hand. On instinct, Tara turned her hand over so she and Darcy were holding hands. Neither of them acknowledged it. But neither of them pulled away. It felt like every nerve in Tara’s body had centered in her hand; she could feel every gentle movement like it was a punch.
Neither of them spoke for the rest of the film, other than Darcy saying Finn and Poe were obviously a thing. By the time it was over, it was quarter past seven and by the time they’d put everything back (Tara felt a little colder when she wasn't holding Darcy’s hand), it was half seven. They could’ve just left early, but instead Darcy chose to play some music and invited Tara to dance like they were in the Breakfast Club. Tara didn't know what kind of playlist Darcy had, because one minute they were dancing to Troye Sivan, then Darcy was rapping the Phineas and Ferb theme tune like a god, then they were screaming to ABBA, amongst over random songs. Tara felt like she was in a music video, running around and dancing between shelves.
They didn’t leave until just after eight o’clock, at which point the sun was beginning to set. There was a small tree outside the library and Darcy pointed out that some of the leaves were beginning to turn orange.
“Fuck, summer’s nearly over. We’re gonna be back in school in less than two weeks.”
Tara nodded. “Yeah, I should start getting stuff sorted for that.”
“Swot,” Darcy nudged Tara. “Still, I think I’ll miss your swottish ways.”
“And I’ll miss your unnecessary Vine references.”
Darcy made a finger gun. “ I won’t hesitate, bitch.”
“And your terrible American accent.”
“Shut up. I don’t even need to miss you, it’s not like I won’t text you all the time.”
“You will be blocked and reported.”
Darcy snorted. She looked over at her bike, locked against a street light.“It’ll be weird not seeing you everyday, though. I’ve become very accustomed to being with you, Jonesy.”
Tara started to overthink that sentence, like she overthought most things. Would Darcy genuinely miss her? Or would she just go back to school and forget about Tara? If they did stay friends, would Tara ever actually get over her crush? Tara wished she could be more like Darcy, who jumped into action, who took chances, who Tara really, really, really liked.
Fuck it.
Tara took the few steps to close the gap between herself and Darcy. Before she could fully register the confused look on Darcy’s face, Tara kissed her.
She pressed her lips gently against Darcy’s, which seemed frozen. Tara suddenly felt very cold; it’d been years since she had actually kissed someone, but she didn’t need to be an expert to know Darcy wasn’t kissing her back. At all.
Tara pulled away quickly. Realising her hands were now on Darcy’s waist, she dropped them as if she’d been burned. Of course this would happen. She wasn’t in a stupid romance novel.
She looked at Darcy, whose eyes were wide (with shock? Fear? Disgust?). Neither of them acknowledged what had just happened. Tara waited for Darcy to tell her to fuck off,laugh at her, or maybe just run away.
Darcy didn’t do any of those things. Instead, she took a step towards Tara, who remained rooted in her spot. Darcy wasn’t going to hit her, was she? The silence between them grew more uncomfortable, if that was even possible. Darcy seemed to be staring intently at Tara’s lips. Tara just wanted this to be over.
Darcy met Tara’s eyes and began to speak, “Tara, do—"
An awkward cough behind them interrupted Darcy. Tara’s head shot around.
“Have you, um, have you closed already? I was wondering if you had a copy of On the Road ?” It was the fucking weedy guy. Tara wanted to cry. But this was the best thing that could’ve happened.
“You’ll have to come back tomorrow morning.” Tara said, starting to walk away.
“No, Tara—” Darcy started. It all felt so wrong . Tara turned around. She didn’t even try to look at Darcy. She just looked at the weedy guy, who was looking slightly scared and confused.
“The library is closed.” She said, and left. Her fast steps turned into a sprint when she was sure no one could see her, and she ran home.
Tara was very grateful she didn’t work on the weekends. She spent the weekend hiding in her room and acting like everything was fine whenever she had to talk to other people, but she wasn’t as discreet as she hoped. When her mum asked Tara why she seemed so off, she said she was feeling nervous about going back to school, which she received some reassuring words about and encouragement to go get some fresh air.
She tried not to think about Darcy taking a step closer to her before the weedy guy showed up, or what might’ve happened if he hadn’t interrupted them. Tara definitely didn’t think about it, because then she’d start thinking about how Darcy had been staring at her mouth and she’d start hoping. She’d learned anything involving hope and Darcy should be well avoided.
Tara deleted all her social media apps from her phone, paranoid that Darcy would try to text her. She could’ve just blocked Darcy, but that felt so final. Anyway, Tara wanted to just shut out the world, as if she could just repress the memory of Friday night; she even binged Riverdale to truly disconnect from reality.
Work on Monday wasn’t the best place to forget about everything, especially when she saw the weedy guy looking at her weirdly then pretending to go back to On the Road . She felt like she was running on autopilot, smiling at people who came in and left, sorting out books, definitely not waiting to see a flash of blonde hair.
She was upstairs, staring at the ceiling and basking in self-pity when Skye approached her.
“Are you alright, dear?”
Tara jumped, “Sorry, I’m fine, just a bit tired!”
“Must’ve been in deep thought, with your head up in the clouds like that,” Skye laughed, “Oh, before I forget, thank you for staying on last Friday, it was a great help. I hope you weren’t too bored, now.”
“It was fine, don’t worry. I just… hung around, you know?”
“Mmm, did Darcy stay with you, then? I haven’t seen her today.”
“Um, yeah, she was here too,” Tara hesitated. She hadn’t realised that Skye knew Darcy’s name. “She’s really busy this week getting ready for school, though, so she probably won’t be here.”
Skye started to look concerned. “Are you sure everything’s alright? Have you had a bit of a row with her?”
Tara gave a weak laugh, “Oh, you know, just teenager stuff.”
“I know all about that,” Skye smiled softly, “I was about your age when I met Gerry. Of course, we weren’t together until long after that, but it was a very confusing time for me.”
Tara hummed in agreement. Old people liked to tell stories.
“And Gerry,” Skye continued, “Of course, she’s always so impulsive, always wanted to do something as soon as she got the idea. Made things difficult at the beginning…”
Tara zoned back in, “Sorry, ‘she’?”
“Yes, Gerry’s my wife.” Skye started to chuckle. “Did I not mention her? Sorry, I’m quite the featherhead!”
“No, no! It’s fine.” Tara was baffled by this information and her own obliviousness.
“Anyway, I don’t want to presume anything, but I know what it’s like. Of course, we live in very different times now, it’s a lot easier. But I know how you’re feeling, all that confusion. But you’ll either work it out with her, or move on. It’ll all work out in the end, no matter what.”
This was one of the strangest conversations Tara had ever had, but she found Skye’s words oddly reassuring.
“Thanks, Skye, that’s actually really helpful.”
“It’s no bother, dear.” Skye looked down at her watch, “You know what, it’s nearly your lunchtime anyway, you can head off early if you’d like.”
“Really? Thanks! See you later, then.”
“Take your time, dear.”
Tara was feeling slightly better about the whole situation. Sure, she was still confused about her sexuality, and she had been rejected by the girl she really liked, and her friendship with Darcy was ruined forever… well, she still wanted to just crawl into a hole and never leave, but at least now she knew she wouldn’t always feel like that.
She put her earphones in and started to listen to the Pride & Prejudice soundtrack. She had only watched the film once a few years ago, but it was one of her favourite soundtracks. She loved how it was grand and romantic sometimes and soft and sweet other times. Of course, her favourite song just had to be Mrs. Darcy. Only slightly ruined now.
Tara decided she would go to Costa, get a sad hot chocolate and let herself be sad for a little while longer. Then start to get over it. She’d be alright; she was going back to school soon, and relationships were always just distracting anyways. In a weird way, it was nice knowing she definitely never had a chance with Darcy, so she wouldn’t have to think about the what ifs. She’d be alright. Maybe she would tell some of her friends what had happened, or at least a less embarrassing version; she knew they’d have no problem with her being a lesbian. And maybe, when she had really got over this shit, she could apologise to Darcy and they could still be friends. She’d be fine.
All these ideas left her when she saw Darcy standing by the tree.
Tara couldn’t even work out to do before Darcy spotted her and charged over.
“Hi,” Darcy said.
“Hi,” Tara replied.
Darcy was about to say something, but Tara beat her to it.
“Look, you don’t need to say anything. I get it.”
“I’m not sure you do, Tara.”
“No, I do, and I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry.”
“Tara, can I—”
“Seriously, I’d rather not hear this. You can hate me, that’s fine, let’s just — let’s just forget everything.”
“Here.” Darcy held something out to Tara. She realised that it was the book Darcy took out three weeks ago.
“Oh.” Tara took it.
“Yeah, I’ve been reading it at home,” Darcy started, “And obviously I had to bring it back, didn’t want Stephen calling the police or some shit, he’d probably do that. Not that it’s the only reason I’m here, though! I want —I really — could you just open the first page, please?”
Darcy was nervous; she must feel weird around Tara now. She probably just wanted to get rid of the book and forget about Tara. What was on the first page, though? Tara opened the book to see a yellow post-it note stuck to the front page.
i really like your laugh and your sarcasm and your cute skirts and the way you talk about music and how determined you are and i really liked it when you kissed me and i’m sorry i’m an idiot.
also low-key think you’re pretty hot.
wanna go to the cinema?
Tara reread the note a few times, partly because the writing was small, but mostly because she didn’t really believe what was on it.
She looked up at Darcy, whose face seemed full of fear, and hope. Could Tara really have not saw the signs? Thinking back on everything else she had missed recently, it was very possible.
She peeled the post-it note off the page. It felt both light and heavy in her hand. Tara knew whatever she said next would be extremely important.
“So,” she said, “you read the book, then?”
Darcy looked taken aback. “Uh, yeah. Like I said, I read it at home, since I spent all my time here, obviously. With you. Which I really like doing, and I still want to do that. Hang out with you, I mean, and maybe do other things if you want to do them, but if you’ve changed your mind or this is all just a misunderstanding, I get it. I just still really want to be your friend.”
Tara took that in. She took a step towards Darcy, and another, until they’re just a breath away from each other.
“I’d like that too. Hanging out and… stuff.”
Darcy started nodding like a bobblehead, “Cool, cool, yeah, great. ‘Hanging out and stuff.’ Stuff. Love stuff, who doesn’t love stuff. Love doing stuff, love your stuff – I mean – fuck, that’s weird. I just, I really like you, you know?”
Tara tried to stop the smile growing on her face. This was a very serious, awkward conversation, but she couldn’t help it. Darcy didn’t hate her. Darcy was blushing. Darcy liked her. Darcy showed up on her bike and gave Tara a bloody post-it note as if they were in a Netflix teen romance film. Darcy liked her.
Tara inched her face closer to Darcy’s, so much so that when Tara spoke, her lips brushed against Darcy’s.
“I know.” Tara leaned in fully.
It was different to the first time. For one thing, Darcy was actually kissing her back. It was slow and unsure. Tara’s hands wound up in Darcy’s hair (she didn’t even register dropping the book to the ground), while Darcy pulled her in closer, to her waist. Tara was vaguely aware that this was a very tame kiss, but with her fingers weaved in Darcy’s hair and her lips moving with Darcy’s, it felt like she could make the Earth tremble with the rate of her heartbeat.
When Tara eased away, Darcy smirked as always, her hands not leaving Tara’s waist, “So…”
“So,” Tara agreed, “You like me, then?”
“Was that not obvious from the whole kiss thing?”
“Was my kiss obvious?”
“Well, it was more the running away afterwards that gave me some mixed signals.”
Tara scoffed. “I thought not kissing me back at all was a very clear signal.”
“I was in shock! You didn’t even let me explain, then you didn’t reply to any of my texts!”
“Because I thought you hated me!”
“I thought you hated me .”
Tara laughed in disbelief. “God, we’re both idiots, aren’t we?”
“We’re both idiots and we both like each other.”
“Quite a match.”
“Definitely.” Darcy kissed her again. Tara laughed into the kiss.
This time, when they pulled apart, Tara took a small step back, “I’m on my break now, if you wanna go do something.”
Darcy gasped, “Oh my, Jonesy, are you asking me on a date ? How scandalous! But of course I accept your kind offer.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Dork.”
“Oh, you love it.”
“Unfortunately. Come on, let’s find somewhere.”
“I think you’re forgetting something.” Darcy picked up the discarded book from the ground.
Tara blushed and took the book. “Right, thanks. Got a bit distracted earlier…”
Darcy took Tara’s free hand, “You’re welcome.”
They walked down the street, leaning into each other.
“So, did you actually like the book?” Tara asked
“Yeah, it was great. Like you said, lots of fluff, bit of angst, overall very mushy. Although,” Darcy wiggled her eyebrows at Tara, “I think I prefer the real thing over fiction.”
Tara retched, “Nope, that was the most disgusting, cliche thing you’ve ever said. This is over, sorry.” She pulled away and ran ahead of Darcy.
“No!” Darcy called out in between laughing, “Don’t run away from me again!”
“ Too soon !”
“Sorry, Jonesy, I just can’t think straight around you.”
“STOP.”
They carried on like this, saying stupid jokes and smiling giddily at each other. Tara squeezed Darcy’s hand as if to remind herself that this was real. She kissed Darcy’s cheek, and seeing Darcy’s face turn pink was like watching a live symphony.