With a shrill beeping that jolted her awake, Zoe’s alarm on her phone announced that it was 7:00 o’clock. Only four hours and fifty-nine minutes left in the year 2020. Rubbing sleeping grit from her eyes, Zoe scrambled to sit up, her desk chair creaking as she pushed it backward.
Red creases marked her otherwise pale skin, indicators of how long Zoe had slept with her arms down on her wooden desk, head buried in the crook of her elbows. Running a nervous hand through her hair, Zoe stood, inwardly cursing herself for falling asleep.
She couldn’t afford to miss this deadline.
Snatching her phone from its place on top of a pile of ‘2020 Must Reads!’, Zoe thumbed through her apps, clicking at last on a familiar tan box. Scrolling to the page that held her yearly reading goal, Zoe was alarmed to see that her ‘number of books read’ list had not magically gone up while she slept.
51. The number stared at her in mockery. So close to her final goal and yet so far.
Some of her friends, she knew, took this reading goal far less seriously. They counted anything from ten-page comics to children’s picture books. Anything that the app associated with being published reading material, they counted. Probably would add cereal boxes if there was that option.
Zoe was different. Every year in January she scrolled through countless lists of upcoming Must Reads, picking out only those that sounded truly fascinating. Unique books that caught her interest. Not dime-a-dozen romance novels with pictures of ripped cowboys or pouting earls on the paperback covers.
Everyone had their taste in literature, she knew, and though Zoe would never fault someone for reading whatever books caught their fancy, she had long ago come to the regrettable conclusion that there were simply too many books published every year for her to ever read all the books she wanted.
Picking and choosing helped her weed through mediocre tales: Amish girls finding their one true love; spies falling for the first beautiful girl they encounter, only to be betrayed later; fantastical realities where a teenage protagonist turns into a superhero overnight. Yes, all stories have their place, but some stories are merely rewritten, a different cover of bold colors and a title in curved script placed over the white pages.
This year, however, due to an error all her own, Zoe had miscounted. Her spreadsheet detailing every book, author, synopsis, and personal review notes had one glaring issue. The numbers stopped at 51.
Tripping over a thin power cord in her haste, Zoe grumbled loudly as her left knee slammed onto the thin carpet of her apartment bedroom. A purple and pink shag rug from childhood sprang to mind; she should have brought it with her to save herself pain.
Awkwardly clutching her knee as she stood, Zoe strode as quickly as possible into the small living area and attached kitchenette that made up the bulk of the apartment she shared with her girlfriend.
“Abby!” she yelled, startling her partner. “Quick! I need a good book to read. And it has to be one we have in this apartment!” Shifting through mounds of books stacked up on the coffee table, near the couch ends, covering the kitchen table, and shoved in the coat closet would take away precious time.
The clock was quickly counting down toward the new year, dashing ahead as though even time itself wanted to leave 2020 behind in the dust.
Sky blue hair twisted back in a braid, grey eyes crinkling in bewildered amusement, Abby softly closed her laptop and stared at her friend’s antics. “Don’t you have a hundred books in your room? Surely one of those will work.”
While Abby enjoyed reading on occasion, and didn’t mind the clutter that stacks of books shoved haphazardly on shelves brought, she never had caught Zoe’s reading mania throughout the four years they had lived together.
“Those won’t work!” Zoe proclaimed with an irritated cry, picking up book after book, only to take a look at the cover and discard it a second later. “I need one published this year. One that’s different!”
Tilting her head to the side, Abby pondered the dilemma, yet made no move to get up and assist. Previous experience had taught her sitting tight was the best way to not incite Zoe to further obsessive behavior.
“I thought you had a whole stack of books checked out from the library,” she wondered aloud. “You always come home with a few bags full!” Keeping library books from becoming entangled among personally owned books was a constant struggle. Even a well-ordered system failed when Zoe brought home more books than would fit on the one designated shelf.
“I do,” Zoe agreed, pausing a moment to consider her options. It was unthinkable, really, to mess up her careful book reading system this late in the game. But what other choice did she have?
Either finish on time by reading a book not published this calendar year, or have that mocking 51 stare at her for all time.
Dropping dejectedly onto a folding chair, Zoe covered her eyes with her hands, hoping the motion would block out the decision she had to face. “Why can’t this be easy?” she bemoaned. “It’s an organized system! How could I mess it up?”
No answer came from either the living room where Abby sat or from the reading spirits who made their homes in the dusty corners of bookshelves.
Hearing a slight rustling news, Zoe spread her fingers apart, daring to look out. “Here,” Abby said, standing before her, a beautifully-wrapped present the exact shade of her sky blue hair clutched in her hand. “This was supposed to be your birthday present.”
Eyes alight with hope, Zoe reached out for the present, feeling a slight twinge of guilt as she tore through the wrappings. A leather-bound book stared back at her. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Zoe’s heart fell as she read the golden script. An old book, not one that would help her now.
“I know it’s not what you needed for right now,” Abby began, sensing her friend’s disappointment, “but I know you’ve had your eye on this edition since Junior year. I was hoping…” She trailed off, biting her lip anxiously.
“No, no,” Zoe glanced up at her girlfriend, a tear glimmering in her eye. “It’s perfect. I had no idea you remembered...It was so long ago.”
Abby shrugged in reply, a bashful grin spreading across her face. “I remember lots of things about you.”
Sighing, Zoe stood, cradling the book to her chest. “Want me to read it to you?” There was no way she would be finished with her goal by the time the new year ball dropped, but some things were more important than meeting an arbitrary goal.
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1 comment
Great story, a must read.
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