Page 10 of Guys Can’t Write Romance

Chapter six

Libraries, Chaos, and Quiet

The Central Library was Daisy’s sanctuary, a cathedral of knowledge with soaring ceilings, elegant archways, and, most importantly, blessed silence. It was where she came to gather her thoughts, to research, and to write when her apartment felt too confining.

Today, however, her sanctuary had been invaded.

“This place is like a tomb,” Chad whispered, though his version of whispering still carried to at least three nearby tables, earning them their first collective glare from fellow patrons. “Do they pipe in extra quiet or something?”

“That’s the point,” Daisy whispered back in an actual whisper volume. She led him to a table in a quiet corner towards the back, dodging his attempts to look at what books people were reading as they passed. “Some of us need quiet to concentrate.”

Daisy set her bag down, unpacking her laptop, notebook, and color-coded pens she arranged neatly on the table.

“So,” Daisy said, plugging in her laptop. “What do you think?”

“It’s... great...” Chad trailed off, his eyes scanning the area like the quiet might ambush him from behind. “If you’re a librarian. Or a serial killer.”

Daisy sighed, ignoring him as she clicked open her manuscript and went to work.

Following her lead, Chad opened his notebook and flipped to the scene he was working on. He stared at it, tapping his nose with his pen. He finally wrote something down, then a few seconds later scratched it out and went back to staring. A moment later, he was clicking his pen in and out.

“What?” Daisy said, looking up from her laptop and shooting him an annoyed look.

“It’s too quiet,” Chad said in his not-so-quiet library voice. It was met by several ‘shhh’s’ from behind a bookshelf. He leaned forward. “I can actually hear myself think. Do you know how weird that is?”

“It must be terrifying. Try not to listen. Unless they’re telling you to run in front of a train.” She turned back to her laptop.

Chad leaned back in his chair and looked around at the shelves of books like they were closing in. He got up and walked over to a section stacked with dusty old books. He removed a particularly old one. “Did you know some of these books are older than my grandma? And probably less fun at parties.”

Daisy looked up again from her laptop. “Focus, Chad.” Then, remembering what Chloe said, “And put that book back where you found it.”

Chad slid the book back onto the shelf and sat back down. “Are we done yet?”

“No. We haven’t even started. Now, focus.”

Chad did. For all of twenty seconds before he began clicking his teeth and tapping his pen.

Daisy shot him a frown. “What is it now?”

“Did you know studies have shown that quiet is a creativity killer? It sucks creativity away like a giant black hole. The brain needs background buzz to function properly.”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Seriously? A black hole?”

“Yeah. It’s like every time I try to form a thought, I can feel the silence sucking it out of my head.”

“Shhh!” came the rebuke from an elderly man two tables over, accompanied by a disapproving scowl.

Chad lowered his voice but continued, undeterred. “See? That guy just proved my point. Instead of focusing on his book, he’s focused on policing noise levels. The quiet makes people tense.”

Daisy glanced around uneasily, noticing several pairs of eyes now fixed on them with varying degrees of annoyance. The elderly librarian behind the reference desk — Mrs. Finch, according to her name tag — was already watching them like a hawk eyeing particularly troublesome mice.

Daisy winced and turned back to Chad. “Let’s try something,” she whispered as quietly as possible, feeling the watchful eyes of Mrs. Finch on her. “I bet you can’t sit still and write quietly for five minutes.”

Chad chuckled, earning another sharp ‘shhh!’ from somewhere behind a bookshelf. He winced, mouthing an apology, then leaned closer to Daisy across the table.

“Come on, Fields,” he said, managing to dial his volume down a bit. “I’m a professional. Five minutes is a cakewalk.”

“Let’s see you do it, then. I’m setting the timer on my laptop. And... go.”

For the first eighteen seconds, Chad managed to keep it together, writing a single sentence in his notebook before scratching it out entirely. By the thirty-second mark, his legs began to twitch under the table.

The silence grew louder.

By the one-minute mark, he tapped his pen against his notebook, staring blankly at the page like the words might appear if he begged hard enough.

At a minute thirty, the pen turned into a drumstick, rhythmically tapping against the edge of the table. Daisy side-eyed him without saying a word.

By minute two, Chad leaned back in his chair dramatically, pulling at his collar as he whispered, “Is it me, or is the air too still in here?”

“Focus,” Daisy whispered, not even looking up from her screen.

At two minutes thirty seconds, he began dramatically fanning himself with his notebook.

Minute three arrived, and Chad leaned forward. “Is that timer even counting down? This feels like five days.”

“Yup,” Daisy murmured, typing steadily. “You ready to concede defeat, McKenzie?”

“Not a chance. I got this.”

Three minutes and thirty seconds was where the real unraveling began.

Chad blew softly at the pages of his notebook, watching them billow up, then settle back into place. His pen tapping turned into quiet clicking, which turned into him accidentally spinning it off the edge of the table.

At almost four minutes, he was pantomiming self-inflicted asphyxiation, pulling dramatically at his collar like he couldn’t breathe.

Daisy finally glanced up, her lips twitching with reluctant amusement. “You’re not about to projectile vomit like the girl in The Exorcist, are you?”

Chad considered this. “Not sure. Might be. The quiet is definitely doing something weird to my head. I think I can hear my brain cells crying.”

“That’s called thinking. Most people do it occasionally.”

“No, it’s more like...” He made a strangled sound and slumped forward onto the table, nearly knocking over a stack of books.

Daisy just rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable.” She looked at the timer on her laptop — only one more minute to go of this ‘silence.’

Just then, Chad’s phone vibrated loudly against the wooden table. Before she could stop him, he had grabbed it and answered.

“Yo, Rhino! What’s up, man?” he said at full volume, apparently forgetting every library norm that had ever existed.

The reaction was immediate and overwhelming. A chorus of ’SHHH!’ erupted from all corners, and Mrs. Finch rose from her desk like an avenging angel, her sensible shoes clicking ominously against the marble floor as she approached.

Daisy slid down in her seat, mortification washing over her as Chad continued his conversation, oblivious to the impending doom.

“No, I can’t surf this afternoon. I’m at the library with — what? No, I’m not kidding. The actual library. With books and everything.”

Mrs. Finch arrived at their table just as Daisy was contemplating whether it was possible to physically melt into the floor from embarrassment.

“Sir,” the librarian said, her voice quiet but sharp as a razor. “Cell phones are not permitted in the library. There are signs posted at every entrance.”

Chad looked up, seeming genuinely surprised to find a stern-faced woman in her seventies looming over him. “Oh, sorry about that. Rhino, gotta go. The library police just showed up.”

He hung up and offered Mrs. Finch his most charming smile — the one that Daisy had noticed usually got him out of trouble with the barista at the cafe when he forgot his wallet. “My bad. Won’t happen again.”

Mrs. Finch was not impressed. “This is your second warning, sir. We’ve already had complaints about your volume.”

“Got it. Library voice activated,” Chad assured her.

The librarian’s eyes narrowed, but she returned to her post, her posture suggesting she would be watching them closely.

“See?” Daisy hissed once Mrs. Finch was out of earshot. “This is why I said quiet.”

“I was quiet,” Chad protested. “For almost four whole minutes. That’s practically a personal record.”

Daisy checked her watch again. “Twenty-seven more seconds and you would have made it.”

“So close,” Chad sighed, then brightened. “Want to try again? I bet I can do it this time.”

Before Daisy could respond, her timer went off, a soft, discreet chime she’d set to mark the end of the five-minute challenge. It was barely audible, but to Chad, it apparently sounded like the bell at the end of a boxing match.

He shot up from his chair, arms raised in victory, and shouted: “VICTORY!”

The entire library fell into stunned silence for approximately two seconds, followed by a cacophony of outraged exclamations and aggressive shushing.

Mrs. Finch moved toward them with the speed and determination of someone half her age, her face set in what could only be described as murderous librarian fury.

“Oh crap,” Daisy whispered, sinking further into her chair and covering her face with her hands. “This isn’t happening.”

“I think we’re in trouble,” Chad stage-whispered, his expression caught between amusement and genuine concern as he watched Mrs. Finch’s approach.

“We?” Daisy repeated incredulously. “There is no ‘we’ in this situation. This is all you.”

Mrs. Finch arrived at their table, her lips pressed into such a thin line they had nearly disappeared.

Without a word, she removed a cell phone from her cardigan pocket, held it up, and proceeded to take their pictures — first Chad, who actually posed with a peace sign, and then Daisy, who tried to hide behind her notebook but was too slow.

Minutes later…

Daisy stood outside the library entrance, staring in horror at the flyer taped to the inside of the library’s glass door. It had the photos of her and Chad printed on it, with the word ‘BANNED’ in bold letters across the top.

“Banned?” she muttered in disbelief. “You got me banned from the library.”

Chad leaned in for a closer look. “You should try to smile next time.”

She shot him a murderous scowl. “You think this is funny?”

“Don’t you?”

“No!”

“Oh, come on, Fields. You act like you’ve never been banned from anywhere before.”

“I haven’t. And even my first-graders haven’t gotten banned from the library. Six-year-olds, Chad, and they behaved better than you just did.”

“To be fair, your first-graders probably haven’t discovered the soul-crushing qualities of library silence yet,” Chad said, still examining their banned poster with what appeared to be pride. “Think Mrs. Finch would give me a copy of this? It would look great on my fridge.”

“I am never working with you in public again,” Daisy growled, starting down the library steps. “Ever. From now on, we meet only in places where your volume level won’t result in my public humiliation.”

Chad jogged to catch up with her. “Okay, Fields. Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”

“No!”

“Then look at the bright side.”

“What bright side?”

“At least it’s only the library.”

“How is that a bright side?”

“Nobody’s gonna see it.”