I was flipping through the pages of an old book at the college library. Its pages were coffee stained and dog-eared. The covers had been thumbed and rubbed so much there were tears, but it was still legible.

It was a critical analysis of the works of Shakespeare by some writer whose name had disappeared completely.

Scanning the shelves, another book immediately caught my eye. It's red binding and gold borders made it stand out. 'Life in the Victorian Era' the title read.

The only problem was, it was up on the third shelf, which meant standing on my toes to reach it; painful and pretty much impossible, at least for me. I needed help.

"Excuse me...?" the tall boy standing a few feet away didn't look up, so I tried again. "Excuse me... I wonder if you could reach down that red book for me?"

"Get it yourself..." he didn't even bother to look up. He was too busy scanning pages of the book he was holding.

I gritted my teeth, swallowing the words I wanted to throw at him and began to stretch.

"Jes' I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were hurt. What an idiot, it's just I've got this exam tomorrow and I haven't read a thing...sorry," he said again.

He was looking at me with these big dark-brown eyes, but all I could see was pity... I'd had enough.

"Don't bother; I'll manage on my own. I don't need your sympathy."

He automatically reached out for the book, but I brushed his hand away and turned to him, looking straight into his dark brown eyes, "I don't want your pity. I can do my work, myself."

"I didn't mean it in that way. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were hurt," he whined.

My legs hurt like hell, but I ignored him and stretched up on my toes. I managed to grab the side of the book but the stupid thing refused to budge. It was stuck solid. I gave one, last desperate pull and lost my balance...

"Shoot!!" the yelp of pain echoed around the large room. I'd grabbed onto the edge of the bookshelf to break my fall; a big mistake. The sharp metal sliced cleanly through the gauze and skin.

I sank onto the edge of a desk and stared in horror at the dark red patches seeping across the crisp white gauze.

"You're bleeding! That looks bad. Is there a piece of metal sticking out? I'll tell the janitor..." he was running a finger over the offending bookcase searching for the broken joint.

"I doubt you'll find anything," I said, busy pressing a tissue to the wound and trying to ease the flow. "It's just my skin's so fragile it doesn't take much to damage it."

"You're a typical girl," he said dropping to his knees. "Stubborn as hell; why couldn't you just accept a simple sorry?"

He reached out to take my hand. "Here, let me take a look at the damage."

"Uh, no, that's a bad idea," I said pulling my hand away. "The bleeding won't stop on its own. I need to get to my doctor, like now."

"The medical room isn't far. They'll sort you out."

"No, I've already said."

"Now you're just being a freaking pain in the ass for the sake of it."

His dark eyes were so close, his frustration twisting his lips into such a comical expression that I laughed, despite the pain.

"Let's go to the medical room," he urged again.

"I really can't. It has to be dressed by my own doctor at Oakland High Complex. And the ride to Pittsburgh isn't a matter of minutes."

He didn't say anything until I was on my feet, "In that case, I'm coming with you."

"I don't need you. I'll be fine..."

Stepping in front of me he crossed his arms. "This is my fault — sort of, so you're not going alone."

"You'll miss classes," I said trying to walk around him.

" So...?" he shrugged as if nothing mattered." I'll just use you as my excuse. It's a lot better than my usual ones..."

"You're impossible I said," trying to inject some anger into my voice but it was hopeless; his eyes were laughing at me.

"Yep — but you make that sound like a bad thing?"

"Fine then — now I have to work out how to get there. A taxi I suppose. It'll be difficult to get a ride from Grant Town though. Not many cabs like to make the two hour's journey." Maybe the librarian would have a number I thought? I looked across at the empty desk. They wouldn't be far away.

"Why bother," he delved into a pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "My new car is ready and waiting. Just lead the way."

Edited by lindajonesAuthor

A/N What do you think Phoebe should have done? Should she have relented to him? Where will the story go when he discovers what she actually is?

PLEASE let me know any grammatical mistakes you find! Few things escape my notice.

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