There was only ever one side to this story, but there was always two sides to him.

This is the story of a nerd and a jock, falling hard.

So it started about a year ago, on a Sunday.

I called him Curly to begin with, he called me Wanderer.

It was the 29th June 2014 and Curly didn't show up. 

I wonder why. 

"Tell me again why we can't, please." I whispered though nobody but him could hear me.

He breathed into the receiver and I imagined feeling his warm breath tickle my ear as he whispered back. "Why we can't what?"

"Why we can't go away together, why we can't be happy, why we can't ditch everything and run?" It was my favorite question to ask him, because I just so desperately couldn't wait to be able to do these things. Sam, of course was the only one who felt the same way, the only one who understood.

This time he sighed heavily, and I felt my heart rate quicken, I was beginning to think I had pushed it too far when he spoke again, his voice husky and quieter than before.

"You know why Caleb." He was stressed and hurt which I knew and I should have left it there, but I didn't. I never did. Instead I sighed, burying my head further into the pillows and pulling the sheets closer around me, "I know... I'm sorry Sam; I just want it so bad, don't you?" this was a serious push; I regretted saying it almost as soon as the words had left my mouth.

"That's not fair, you know I do!" He sounded bitter, angry even. "You know I care about you." I began to apologize and change the subject but he cut me off; his tone rough, "I should go," he paused, "I'm sorry Caleb, I just can't." he hung up then leaving me a lonely, sad mess wrapped in cold bed sheets and self pity.

I flipped the phone across my bed, swearing under my breath. Fuck, all I ever seemed to do lately was piss him off or hurt him. Where did it all go wrong? He sounded so frustrated and well.. Done - done with me.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night so I leaned over to retrieve my phone, unlocking it and opening the music app. My finger hovered for a second before I double-tapped the playlist - our playlist - and tossed my phone back onto the mattress, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks. I couldn't remember a time in the past months that our phone calls hadn't ended the same way.

"Talking like we used to do

It was always me and you

Shaping up and shipping out

Check me in and check me out

Do you like walking in the rain?

When you think of love, do you think of pain?"

 

I must have fallen asleep some time later because I don't remember getting to hear the end of the playlist. However, I do remember waking up to a dead phone and after charging it, four new voicemail's. All from Sam, I guess he wasn't as done with me as I had thought.

Just a quick authors note, the whole story is written in Caleb's point of view so you don't get confused. Also Curly is Sam (which will be explained further in). 

The beginning.

Sundays were always my favorite day. Not just because it seems there is an unwritten rule that Sundays are a national lazy day and nobody gets out of bed before 12.30 or even because on Sundays the whole world seems to pause for a moment and everything stops still in time. Even though this in itself is beautiful and magical and there is nothing better than experiencing a sleeping world while only you are awake, except of course unless you are experiencing it with someone else, this is still not my favorite thing about Sundays. My favorite thing about Sundays, was seeing him. It still is.

So it started about a year ago, on a Sunday. I called him Curly to begin with and he called me Wanderer.

You see I have a job at the grand library in town and work everyday, I only stack shelves and answer customers questions and help to find books; nothing that interesting but still I love it. I mean the pays good and the hours aren't bad - afternoons on Mondays and Fridays and on Saturdays I only have to work a few hours in the morning. The best thing about Sundays though was that I worked all day - 9 am till 7 pm with breaks - and coincidentally Curly also spent all day in the library. 

You must understand first and foremost, I am a person of order, not time. I am also a person of anxiety so I never spoke to him first, instead I stared and he stared right back. See this was our thing, we had an order; I would always get to the library three minutes after it opened and two minutes after Curly arrived. This way I had just about half an hour to stare at him and sometimes - when he was in a good mood - flirt. But of course I am not perfect and by always I mean that sometimes I got there a little after 8.33 and Curly would always do this adorable  smile and say "You're late." - like I said, not a person of time.

But if I did get there on time he would already be sitting in his favorite chair - the green one with a brown floral pattern and high back, with his legs over one arm, a book rested on his stomach and a pile of five more behind his head on a small brown table where a little green lamp sat. He would wait for me to pick up the books he left me - whatever he had read the day before and enjoyed, and watch as I sat down directly across from him, on a blue beanbag, with my legs crossed and my back against the cool glass preventing me from falling from the balcony down to the fourth level of the library. Only then would he pick up his book and begin to read. This was the way things stayed for about 6 months, not a single Sunday missed.. I told you, I am a person of order.

That was until the day it started; the 29th June 2014, and Curly didn't show up. The first Sunday he ever missed. I remember the date because I scribbled it down on a green post-it note and stuck it to my wall above my desk lamp.

I remember the day too, although not perfectly, it's kind of blurry to me now. But I can describe the library like it's my own bedroom. I got there as usual for about 8.32 and opened the grand oak doors. I mean grand, this library is like something from Hogwarts, huge and magical. The library itself must be about the size of a small castle... maybe a slight exaggeration but never the less the actual library resembles a tower from a fairy-tale. The doors open out into a circular hall with a grand staircase climbing up the wall in white marble. There are five floors in total and no lifts, which I like because it adds to the authentic fairy story feel of the place.

Below the stairs on each level are tall, fat bookshelves overflowing with books and leaning against them wooden brown ladders, just like you see in the movies. Of course customers are not allowed to actually use the ladders, only staff can do that. Health and safety or something. The rest of each room is filled with tables and stacks of books from paperbacks and hardbacks to notebooks and folders. They have it all.

The first floor is themed for children; the ground covered in beanbags, comfy chairs, soft plush toys and pop-up books. This is also where the tills are. The second floor is filled with school books; textbook and dictionary heaven. On the third is everything and anything non-fiction, including autobiographies and posters you can buy. The fourth is fiction, filled with books for teenagers and young adults. This floor is also split in half with a section for manga and comics. The final floor isn't really a floor at all, it's a balcony above the fourth floor that can only be reached with a set of metal ladders leading up to a trap door. The balcony has no bookshelves and instead has little tables piled high with books of all sorts, it also has seats everywhere; even the Victorian windows have cushioned seats rather than windowsills so you can sit and look out at the city. 

This is the balcony we always meet at; Curly and me. I remember getting to the balcony and climbing up through the trap door at 8.33 like always. As a strong follower of order I expected to stand up and be greeted by a pair of shining green eyes and a mob of curly blond hair, only when I did look up I found only that the green chair with the grown floral pattern and high back was featuring no dangling legs, in fact no teenage boy or books at all. That's when I knew it was gonna be a bad day. 

I worked my shift as usual and Curly didn't turn up at all that day. He didn't leave behind any books for me either. I don't really remember how I felt, disappointed and annoyed I guess. I hoped he was okay.