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If it wasn’t for his crutches keeping him grounded, Jimmy was sure he’d be bouncing up and down right now.
He’d been waiting for this day for forever — and by forever, he meant a little under a week, but to a fourth grader, that might as well have been forever.
Today, he was getting his very own library card. His mom, who was accompanying him out of necessity since kids his age required a guardian’s signature, had pointed out earlier that he could just keep borrowing hers, but Jimmy rejected the idea. You see, it wasn’t just about having a library card; it was about commitment. It was just the first step in a bigger plan, one that’d take years. (Not that she knew that, though, because Jimmy liked to think he had one hell of a poker face.)
Jimmy was guaranteed to be at least ten steps ahead of her at any given second on the way there. He nearly ran across the sidewalk, only restrained by his mom’s occasional ‘slow down’s and annoyed exclamations of his name from behind. By the time Mrs. Valmer had passed through the doors of the South Park Public Library, her son was already waiting for her at the circulation desk.
After handing over her photo ID and address, Mrs. Valmer left Jimmy alone with the librarian to browse the culinary section, but not before instructing him to find her once he was done filling out his card so she could sign the application. He nodded, and with that, she was gone. But that was fine with him — his plan was confidential, after all.
“Go stand over there, please,” said the librarian, Ms. Herman, in a nasally voice even Jimmy thought was exaggerated. Still, he followed her knobbly pointer finger to a spot near the desk where a camera was positioned. She didn’t give him a countdown, so he brushed himself off and flashed his award-winning smile prematurely.
It was toothy and lopsided, revealing his braces, which would’ve been horribly undignified if he was grown, but all the adults who saw it said it made him look like a gentleman.
He held it for longer than he’d expected to. The corners of his mouth twitched, making his Oscar-worthy grin falter slightly, but with one flash of light, it was done. Eyes blown wide, Jimmy did his best to blink away the camera’s blinding afterimage as he sidestepped away from it.
He hoped a bit of improv on his part might speed up the procedure a bit, eventually deciding it was worth a try. “If I p-promise to re-re-return books on time, can I get my card faster?”
“Mmm,” she droned through taut lips in quasi-agreement, more focused on her work than him.
Said work didn’t seem to be speeding up, much to Jimmy’s chagrin. “Wasn’t my best wo-work anyway,” he muttered under his breath, looking away.
Save for the mechanical clicks and whirs of the printer, it was silent as Ms. Herman transferred the mandatory information from his mom’s papers onto his card. Jimmy’s mind started to wander, specifically a couple blocks down the road with a few twists and turns in between, to a familiar dark green house. Even though it was all in his head, he could picture it like he was going down that path right then and there.
That’s where Timmy lived.
Timmy and him had been best friends for a while now, but only recently had they become boyfriends. How long they’d been dating didn’t matter though, because they were basically going to get married any day now, Jimmy was sure of it. That’s what his big plan was all about: preparing for when they’re husbands, and stuff. And this library card was the first thing to cross off the agenda.
He wished he was talking with him right now, even though it was mostly him who did the talking, not that Timmy seemed to mind. For as great of a listener as he was, he had lots of words to share, too. Jimmy maintained they were too smart for him to hear, but he appreciated that Timmy believed otherwise. Sometimes, it made him sad that he was the only other kid in town who could understand him, but at the same time, it was like they had their own secret language. Jimmy didn’t know if it was a weird thought to have, but it made him feel sort of special.
Not to mention, Timmy was Jimmy’s go-to guy to bounce ideas off of. In fact, it was him who said (or laughed) that Jimmy might be thinking a little too far ahead when he first pitched his master plan. But Timmy came around eventually — after all, if it made Jimmy happy, then it made him happy, too. For Valentine's Day, which took place not long after they started dating, Timmy surprised him with a song he wrote specially for him, and he even got his band to perform it! Not in front of a crowd, just him, in the privacy of his garage. An exclusive mini-concert of his own, when he could've just gotten him a box of chocolates.
God, he loved him.
His reverie would’ve gone on for much longer if Ms. Herman hadn’t coughed. She was probably trying to clear her throat instead, from the way she held out the pen and card, eyeing him expectantly.
Jimmy snapped back to reality, blinking twice at her until he understood. He wriggled the arm that held his dominant hand free of its crutch, which he rested against the desk. He shifted all of his weight onto his other side as he reached out to take the pen and the card, which was fresh off the printer, bringing a faint warmth to his fingertips when he touched it.
This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. He was finally going to sign his name.
He deftly uncapped the pen, feeling his heartbeat increase as several days’ worth of anticipation seized hold of him with all its might and refused to let go.
He'd practised writing it so many times before he'd lost count. There had to be a number for it, but it wasn't one he'd been taught in school yet. So, the thought of doing it for real had the nerves in his hand buzzing so hard he was certain it had enough electricity to be a battery.
Jimmy slotted the pen between his fingers, fidgeting with it briefly as he got used to how it felt in his grip, which he was trying to make sure wasn’t too tight otherwise he’d mess up.
In the fanciest cursive he could muster, the kind that looked befitting of medieval royalty, he signed his name on the empty line.
Jimmy Burch-Valmer
Once he was finished, he snapped the cap back into place and stared at what he’d written.
Anybody else would've put their own last name first, but Jimmy wasn’t anybody else. He was a comedian, and being a comedian meant being a wordsmith, and being a wordsmith meant being aware of the simple fact that Burch-Valmer had a much better ring to it than Valmer-Burch did.
And to him, that single line of pretty letters was the most wondrous thing he’d ever laid eyes upon. He was so utterly mesmerised by it that it took him a second to notice that the librarian had extended her hand to him again, waiting for the pen and card to be returned so she could laminate. He hastily shoved them back into her open palm with a stifled ‘oh’ at the realisation.
Waiting felt like eternity, but when she passed the library card back to him for the final time, it was worth it. So, so worth it.
He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he held it again and looked over it a few more times, as if making sure it was real. Jimmy couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face when he assured himself it was. Sweet Jesus, he’d done it. That was him. Officially, at least in the library, he was Jimmy Burch-Valmer, and nothing in the world felt better than this, and he wasn’t sure anything would ever feel so good again.
It was perfect.
The anxiety that had suddenly grabbed ahold of his very being quickly melted into pure joy. He slipped the library card into his pocket and made a mad dash for wherever the cookbooks were to get his mom. She signed the application, earning a monotonous “All good to go. Welcome to the library.” from Ms. Herman, but he wasn’t paying attention. The only thing on his mind now was showing this library card, this official document that listed him as Burch-Valmer, to Timmy.
Mrs. Valmer, who Jimmy suspected to be psychic now, picked up on his excitement (which he thought he was hiding well enough), and planted a firm hand on his shoulder before he could run off. Jimmy let out a squeak of a pitch even he was surprised came out of him.
“Mom! I’ve g-g-gotta go see Timmy!” he pleaded, tugging at her sleeve lightly.
“Jimmy, aren’t you going to check out any books first? Can’t your friend wait a bit?” she asked, her voice thick with confusion. Right. She didn’t know yet.
Still, he shouldn’t have been so eager. Now she was probably suspicious of him. He had to make something up, fast. “L-later. I c-can come back anyti.. anytiii… whenever I want. B-b-but he’ll think it’s… r-r-really g-great! Come on, l-let’s go!”
He hurriedly gave her a far more crooked version of the grin he had put on for the picture on his library card, hoping it would divert her focus away from how bad his stutter was. She knew it worsened when he felt intensely about something.
She eyed him for a moment before letting go of his shoulder. “Okay,” sighed Mrs. Valmer.
Jimmy barely waited for his mom to follow him out of the building, but she did anyway, just to make sure he got there safely. She was almost worried he’d be so excited he wouldn’t look both ways and get run over by a speeding car or some other impossible tragedy, but of course, that didn’t happen.
From the Burchs’ doorstep, he gave her a wave that she requited from the sidewalk. Once their farewell exchange was over, he turned around and practically slammed himself against the door, fumbling with the keyhole until it clicked open.
Knocking and waiting by the door until someone let him in was for strangers, acquaintances, friends — not boyfriends. Not Jimmy.
He puffed out his chest — yeah, that was right — boyfriend. Somehow, it never got less fun to say, out loud or in his head.
With his parents' approval, Timmy had replicated their house key for him. He remembered begging to tag along to True-Value Hardware with him to see it being made, even though Timmy said it’d only take a couple minutes and wasn’t a terribly interesting process to watch anyway. He ended up being disappointed it went exactly like Timmy said it would, but he wasn't about to say so and give him the satisfaction of being right... again.
"Oh, you g-gotta see this, Tim-Tim!" yelled Jimmy, not even bothering to try containing himself any longer. He hobbled as fast as his crutches would carry him in the direction of Timmy's room, where he could usually be found. Strangely, Mr. and Mrs. Burch didn't appear to be home, but they weren't who he was looking for.
“Jimmy?” carried his voice from down the hall. Just as he’d come to expect, Timmy was sprawled out on his bed with his earbuds in (although he was taking them out now), and Gobbles was fast asleep in a modified dog bed Jimmy had helped him with. He’d bet money that that turkey wouldn’t wake up if Armageddon was going on outside, but he treaded delicately so as not to disturb him regardless.
As he found a spot on the bed beside Timmy, he noticed he had that inquisitive look on his face again — this smile that nearly showed his teeth but didn't, and one eyebrow pressed downwards while the other was raised slightly. He did that a lot more now.
Timmy straightened up and leaned in closer as Jimmy dug around in his pocket. From his enthusiasm alone, he assumed he'd just won the lottery, which couldn't be the case since he wasn't old enough, so he was effectively stumped. But he couldn’t deny that his attitude got him a little hyped for whatever it was, too.
So when Jimmy pulled out a library card of all things, acting like it was treasure, he couldn't help but be kind of confused. Well, that was generous. He was really confused.
Timmy's smile dropped. "...Timmy?"
"This is imp-important, I swear," he countered. He needed him to know it was important, which was admittedly difficult without spoiling the surprise.
"Timmy, Timmy? Timmy." he teased. True, Jimmy didn't frequent the library, but it's not like he never went at all! He'd checked out his fair share of joke books, some of which he and Timmy had even combed through together in their free time.
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Ju-just look at it closer."
He scooted even closer to the other boy until their shoulders brushed one another's, offering him the library card. Timmy looked it up and down before accepting it with a tentative hand. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so far. He quirked an eyebrow at Jimmy. He knew him to be more of a jokester than a prankster, so something wasn't adding up. What could possibly be so remarkable about a library card, unless it was a prop for... he didn't know.
He grasped the card carefully, making sure his fingers didn't cover anything. Squinting, he searched for what his boyfriend insisted was so importa- oh.
Jimmy could pinpoint the exact nanosecond Timmy's eyes widened to dinner plates, only capable of focusing on the name written on the line. "Tim-Timmy? Timmy?" he said in disbelief, his eyes darting between Jimmy and his library card. Over and over again, he tapped a finger right on the part that said Burch-Valmer.
The boy crossed his arms over his chest triumphantly. "Yep, it's official, very much," he replied.
Before he could get another word in, Timmy threw his arms around him, enveloping him in a hug that made his cheeks burn. "Jimmy!" he exclaimed, expressing his approval, noting the order in which their last names had been arranged.
He lifted his chin in pride. (Or, as much as he was able to with his face buried in Timmy's shoulder.) He knew he picked well. Obviously, Timmy would see the vision; he was a singer! If he couldn't tell which words sounded best together, nobody could. Jimmy was about to say something else, but got distracted by what felt like a tiny rain droplet landing on him and leaving a damp spot on the back of his shirt where it had fallen. What followed were a few sniffles, close to Jimmy's ear. He gasped softly. "Tim-Tim, are you crying?"
Timmy chuckled weakly. "Tim-Timmy," he mumbled, almost embarrassed to admit it.
Jimmy turned his head into the crook of Timmy’s neck, sliding his arms up from his lower back to the space just below his shoulder blades, pulling him nearer. "Yeah," he murmured back. "I w-wish it was official everywhere, too." He paused. "...But one day, ri-right?" Timmy hummed thoughtfully, giving a gentle nod in response. They were so close together, it tickled.
The promise of one day echoed in Jimmy's head. He wondered if it did Timmy's, too.
No, he knew it did.
One day, he told himself. One day.
Not that he was in a rush, though — he was already the luckiest guy in the world, and he didn't need a big fancy wedding to prove it.
But, you know. It would be nice.