stevie hopkins
- november 20, 2020 -

GRABBING MY BRIEFCASE, MY BROWS knitted at the ringing of my phone. I adjusted the tweed jacket I chose for the day and pulled the device from the pocket of my slacks. I smiled and the name and slid the screen over, "Ethan, hi. I'm just about to walk out the door for work."

"I love how you went from always being late to always early in the span of two years."

I rolled my eyes, but still laughed, "That's called growth my friend. What was so important that you couldn't tell me at the school?"

"Well, Professor, I was just curious if you've by chance seen the paper this morning? I came across the most interesting article on the front page, that I just couldn't seem to get enough of. It's some good stuff."

Something didn't sit right. Calling about something as random as that wasn't Ethan's style. We saw each other every day at work. The only time he called was with something extremely important; not a newspaper article that I would no doubt see in a few minutes.

"You know I don't get the paper here. Why would I when I get it at work?"

He hummed on the other side of the phone and I checked my watch, "I just think you should find one beforehand. I have a sneaking suspicion that you'll want to make another stop on the way in."

"Fine," I huffed, locking the door behind me as I left, "I'll grab one at the coffee shop."

"Okay, sounds good. I'll see you soon," he hung up now that he was satisfied with my decision. A newspaper article. It must be one hell of an article for him to get so worked up over it. And why would I need to make another stop before work?

The back of my neck heated up and I blew out a sigh. Once in the car, I tossed my briefcase in the passenger seat and pulled my shoulder length hair back into a small ponytail just to get it off my neck. He'd been far too cryptic for my comfort level.

Tony's Coffee had a new paint job last year. The chipping red paint had been replaced with a forest green, a white door and trim. The red couch in the back had been replaced with two plush arm chairs with a table between them.

I walked in and a girl with green chin length hair smiled, waving her hand as she answered her head set. When she was finished, she twirled to me and pushed up these wire frame glasses, "Just the two drinks, Professor?"

"Yeah, Jordyn, thanks."

The girl scribbled my name on a pair of cups before setting them down in front of a boy who's name I could never remember, "Oh, no problem."

I handed her my card, "Say, how's Statistics treating you? I heard you got Cadwell. He's one tough guy. I had him when I took the class."

"Are you kidding?" She laughed, giving my card back, "He's a breeze compared to Struthers. That woman has giving people anxiety down to an art, seriously."

I stopped and looked around, "Say, you guys get the newspaper?"

"Yeah, we do actually." She disappeared into the backroom. Appearing again, she held out the paper to me. I did a double take at the picture in front of me. Shaking my head, I snatched the paper from her.

I mumbled a thanks and practically fell into one of the arm chairs. Plastered right on the front page was a picture of Chelsea. She had this wide smile on her face and a light behind her eyes. The edges of my lips tipped up, but my stomach still dropped.

She still had that up and down effect on me. She held a small, black book in her hands. The title of the article read, 'SMALL TOWN WOMAN PUBLISHES NEW YORK TIMES BEST SELLER'.

I flipped open the page so quickly that I almost dropped the paper all together. Scanning through the words, my eyes stuck to one paragraph. It was a quote from the author herself. It was Chelsea talking about the book.

'It's about the ups and downs of first love. It's all of the beautiful and all of the ugly things about loving another person. Because that's poetry, finding beautiful words to describe the difficult stuff. Sometimes you don't know what you want to say until you write it down.'

I swear at that point my heart was pounding directly into my ears. I looked up in sort of a daze. Jordyn was waving at me. I watched her lips move, but I couldn't hear a single word leave them. I just stared at her, my mouth hanging open slightly.

I stood, dropped the paper on the side table and left. It was as simple as that. Jordyn hollered after me, but it was too late. I was practically out the door and in my car.

'Because that's poetry, finding beautiful words to describe the difficult stuff.'

I knew that phrase. She had said something similar years before. It sounded so lovely at the time. It was such an elegant way to put it. She had said that was the power of words. To describe something most people found ugly in a pretty way.

By the time I'd driven the block to Corner Store Books, I was practically shaking. I now understood why Ethan said I'd be making another stop before going into work. I stood outside for what seemed a long while.

A redheaded girl ran around the corner of the brick building almost pummeling right into me. I slipped out of her way quickly and she shouted a thank you over her shoulder. I stood there blinking.

Slowly, I made my way inside. I scanned the shelves, but didn't seem to find what I was looking for. My shoulders dropped. Maybe I could have them order me a copy or maybe their shipment was just late. I turned to leave, when an almost empty display in the corner caught my eye. I held my breath as I walked up to it.

One little black book sat by itself on the table. I instantly grabbed it, but refused to open the cover. It was solid black with only white words printed across the front, 'I'LL SHOW YOU LOVE BY CHELSEA E. RONAN'

I closed my eyes for only a second before opening the cover. It had these nice little stars surrounding the title and Chelsea's name. I laughed a little. She always did like the stars. I remember that night when we sat on the roof of my parents barn during spring break. Limbs tangled together with the night all around us. We'd fallen asleep up there, only to come to with one of my siblings shaking us.

Flipping through the pages, I stopped at the dedication. It was like a bullet right through me. Printed clear as day across the page was me. My name. They were in big bold letters as if screaming for my direct attention and let me tell you, they got it. They had my full attention.

'For STEPHANIE MARISSA HOPKINS, my first love. My better half. The logic behind my every move. This is every single word I couldn't find at the time. I guess I had to write them down to figure it out. This is the beautiful and the ugly. This is you. This is me. This is us. Love you still. Always have and I think I always will.'

"You're lucky. That's the last copy we've got for another week. I can barely keep it on the shelves as it is," the man spoke behind the counter "and as good as it is for business, that newspaper article really isn't helping."

I barely glanced at him before my eyes when right back to the dedication. I kept tearing up. I even had to wipe my eyes once or twice with the back of my hands. In the corner of my eyes, the man fidgeted behind the counter. Intuition told me he wasn't used to people crying in his store.

"Would you... Would you like to buy it?"

Looking up at him, I nodded my head slowly. He was more of a fuzzy figure at this point as I looked through all the water in my eyes, "Yes. I really would."

He gently took the book from me, "You know, I don't think I've ever felt about anyone the way this author feels about whoever she's writing about. It's so raw and powerful. And to put that all down in words for everyone to see. It's pretty ballsy if you ask me. I don't think I could do it."

He chuckled lightly. I know he was just trying to be polite by striking up a conversation with me, but I was barely keeping myself together at that moment. My throat was so closed in order to keep back a sob that I don't think I could have even spoken a word back to him if I wanted to.

I held up the book and nodded slightly before quickly leaving the shop and the tall, lanky man behind. I couldn't just sit and read it now. I had work. I had responsibilities. Once in my car, I slammed the door shut after me. With the book in my lap, I grabbed the steering wheel, but I couldn't force myself to turn the key or even start the ignition.

I let out one breath and then another. I couldn't do anything. I had faith in myself. I smiled and turned on the car. The drive to the college was only a couple minutes long. This town was now almost too small. I remember when I thought it was humongous. With its towering buildings and confusing streets. Now, I knew this place better than Cottage Grove.

Tossing the book into my briefcase, I grabbed the handle and headed to my classroom. I was stuck in one of the oldest buildings on campus. It never got above 40 degrees and it somehow always smelled of a mixture between cleaning supplies, but also wet towels. I still don't know how it managed that.

I looked both ways down the hallway and when I was satisfied that no one was probably coming in for a while I entered my classroom, shutting the door behind me. I tried to go through everything like normal. Setting my briefcase on the desk and clicking it open. Yet, when I opened it, that book was staring me down.

Picking it up slowly, I turned it over in my hands. I couldn't wait any longer. That cover, the dedication, they were swimming around in my thoughts. They were suffocating. I had to know. It was killing me. I flipped through the pages, stopping at a random one and opening the book wide.

'I want everyone to love you the way I do.

For them to carry you with them in these pages.Secretly, but deeply.I want them to fall asleep with you on their mindsAnd within their own beating hearts.'