The playfulness vanished. The silence of the archives pressed in on them. Leo could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. "Ally," he breathed.
Leo jumped, his highlighter leaving a neon yellow streak across his textbook. Ally was leaning over the table, her dark hair falling forward, eyes bright with mischief. "I’m... absorbing the material," Leo stammered. In Love with Ally Barker
"You’ve been on page forty-two since I got here," a voice whispered. The playfulness vanished
They spent the night in the belly of the stone building, flashlights cutting through the dust of a century. They didn't find a secret society, but they found a stash of old theater programs. Under the glow of a single LED beam, Ally started reading the melodramatic stage directions aloud, her voice filled with mock tragedy. "Ally," he breathed
"I know, Leo," she said softly, her hand finding his in the dark. Her skin was warm, grounding him. "I’ve been waiting for you to get off page forty-two for a long time."
Leo knew he should say no. He had a midterm at eight. But Ally was already standing, her backpack slung over one shoulder, looking at him like he was the only person who could possibly keep up with her.
"‘And then,’" she whispered, stepping closer to him in the narrow aisle, "‘the hero realizes the treasure was never the gold, but the girl with the ink-stained fingers.’"