"Lovely Monday morning, Sophie," Elaine chirps out. She sits behind the wooden circulation desk when I arrive at work. I have been working here for over a week, and it's been great. Besides Elaine Wilkinson, the only permanent employee here, Joshua Birkin also works part-time. Josh is a few years younger than me and studying at the same university I attended. He is a friendly and cheerful guy who never runs out of jokes. He works only a few days a week while I work four days, having Fridays off. We three are always joking and have so much fun. I am fortunate to have this job. The salary is not huge, but it doesn't feel like working. It's entertainment!

Customers are great, especially the children. I have encountered only a few impolite and grumpy ones. We are a small branch library with limited space and personnel, so we don't hold many events. Most events are for children, but we have a literary club for adults. Elaine coaxed me into hosting it. I am excited and terrified at the same time, and the thought of it makes my hands shake slightly. Luckily, Elaine will be co-hosting it a few times before it is solely my responsibility.

"How was your weekend? Did you get lai—" She gives me a bawdy stare over her glasses. Her eyes are gray, almost white, and so piercing that I cannot help but laugh out loud, earning a few stares from an early customer.

"Elaine, you have a dirty little imagination! It was just a friendly date with Rick. We went to the beach and had a few drinks—non-alcoholic, for your information, ma'am—and ice cream. It was strictly PG-13. Besides, I don't do anything improper on a first date. Ever. Period." I make an old-fashioned curtsy fit for royalty to Elaine. It is her turn to laugh audibly.

"What was wrong with him? You are too picky, Mi'lady."

"Rick is an ass, mark my words," Joshua, or Josh, as we call him, shouts to us when he arrives at the desk. "He is someone my friend knows, and I've met him a couple of times at parties. Why the hell did you go on a date with him?"

"Hi, Josh! My friend, Mary, arranged it for me, and I didn't want to upset her. What are you doing here? It's your day off."

"She has long arms, then. Isn't she in England?"

"She is, but I can't say no to her. She is just trying to help me."

"O-o-o-kay," he says, a twinkle in his hazel eyes, always ready to joke, but this time he decides to keep it in. "I want to return these books." He opens his backpack and takes out a stack of books.

"My grannie's. These are badly overdue, so I wanted to return them immediately. As you know, I go to help once in a while with everyday chores. I found them in the cupboard I was reorganizing. Granny's memory is not what it used to be."

He tries to tuck his wild, curly blond hair behind his ear. He looks like he should be a carefree dude on a California beach riding a surfboard, not here in the library, helping his grandmother and studying literature. I recognize the twinkle of sadness in his eyes as I go through a similar situation with my aunt. 

"I will remove the fine, Josh. Tell your grandmother we have an amnesty month." Elaine comforts him, then turns to Sophie and chuckles. "One of these days, Josh and I are going to take you out for a wild night on the town. We will arrange some men for you to choose from, and it won't be PG-13. "

"That's right! I have a few candidates in mind. Millie can bring in her classmates. The guys in finance are fine-looking with fat wallets." Josh smirks enthusiastically. Millie White, his long-term girlfriend, often visits the library to study whenever Josh works.

"Oh, please! Mind your own business." I grumble as I leave to do my assigned tasks, hearing those two having fun behind my back as if they were actually planning a night out.

It was just friendly bickering, but I felt a slight pang nonetheless. Why was everyone so adamant about matching me with someone?

As I finish shelving the returned books, I return to the circulation desk, where Elaine is helping a customer search for books on Edwardian fashion. She is the only customer around, and I have no urgent tasks, so I take out my favorite book, the one with a fresh signature. I fondly read Mr. Blackwood's words and think about our brief encounter, closing my eyes and leaning back.

My thoughts are interrupted by an alarm beep from my mobile as if the universe had commanded it. It was a message from Johnny—my ex-boyfriend. We broke up over three years ago. We were at the same college when we fell in love with each other somewhere in the middle. But the usual happened when he went to MIT, and I stayed here. Now that I think about us back then, we were more like siblings than a real couple, and we are still good friends who follow each other on social media. 

I hide the book away and find a crumpled candy wrapper while digging my mobile out of my bag. I straighten it to discover it is the one I picked up on the street on book signing day. How did it end up here? I am about to toss it in the garbage bin, but I hesitate. Ridiculously, I feel sorry for it. Instead, I fold it neatly and tuck it in my purse.

"I'm coming to visit my parents next week. CU then?" the message reads, and I send "ok."

I can't help myself, but I have to scroll through his recent social media posts, in which he and his fiancée pose at the Grand Canyon. According to those, he has proposed to her, and she has accepted. I will most likely receive a wedding invitation in the future. They are such a lovely couple. Honestly, I am happy for them. 

And I make an observation: I don't want any of it. I don't want a boyfriend, a date in a fancy restaurant, tokens of love, a proposal at the Grand Canyon, or any proposal. I am content right now, with no men around, only friends and my dear aunt, whom I visit almost daily.