Spiced Pears and Caramel Chocolate Cake

It may be an unpopular opinion, but libraries have a way of being...ominous. Maybe it's the hushed voices that carry as loud as a gunshot in the right spots. Maybe it's the shelves, twice her height and packed to the brim, or the aisles, barely wide enough for two people at a time.

Despite the feel of something odd, something wrong, she loved libraries.

The campus boasted a two story tower of knowledge. The second floor took up only half of the space for a few study rooms and allowed the downstairs ceiling to curve up into a dome, making for lovely acoustics (if it wasn't a library).

Along the walls downstairs were secluded rooms only big enough for a rectangular four-seater table. Fine for smaller groups or a duo, but it was rare to get a room alone during midterms.

She walked inside, the burst of heat a refreshing change from the prickling cold, and passed the front desk with a brief pause; someone new was sitting there. The brunette lady, older but not elderly, smiled up at her in greeting.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Georgia. I asked to have a book reserved for me-"

The lady held up a gentle hand and said, "I'm sorry, but the reserve cabinet is empty. I just handed out the last of the books."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you."

How unhelpful. But at least the lady wasn't rude. Georgia moved on.

The book shelves were as dreary and beautiful as ever; that smell of old, worn pages filling the air. She passed by, scanning up and down the hollow aisles, and heading toward the back where the rooms were situated.

During midterms and finals, the library was fairly packed. Several tables were set up in the center of the first floor with the ability to sit a good amount of students, but the likelihood of getting your own table was nil. Sharing was caring here.

But today, there were only a few scattered souls, and seats aplenty.

A hacking cough, as loud and aggressive as a rabid dogs bark, made her jump. One of those souls had a table to himself near the edge, and it was apparent why he was alone. He let out another harsh cough and a long sniffle.

He had a single book open, with one shaking hand trying to jot something down on a sheet of paper. Try as he might to hide it beneath his hoodie, the man looked like death.

Wait, she recognized him. He walked into their 8am lecture late at least three times a week, usually with an unapologetic grin.

"Thank you for joining us today, Jeremy," Professor Cartwright would say. Jeremy never replied, or act like he'd heard.

He had clearly seen better days. Georgia pitied the abuse his poor sweater was going through as he coughed into it again.

A nasty bug had been going around. That wasn't new, there was always something going around this time of year, but it was really getting around. Her morning class had been cancelled via email at 3am and the one scheduled after that was cancelled about 15 minutes into the lecture.

She pulled at her hand sanitizer, gave a generous squirt, and wandered on. Oddly enough, most of the little rooms were bare. One or two students here or there. So privacy was ripe for the picking.

Well, semi-privacy. There was a large plexiglass window to each room, so the librarians didn't have to peek their heads in to make sure everyone's behaving; a quick side glance was all it took.

She settled into one of the farthest rooms and pulled out a textbook as thick as her forearm, ready and mostly willing to get her study on.

Her pocket buzzed, a text from Cassidy.

"Where r u?"

"Library cubby hole, far left end."

"K."

It was only 9:30am. Cassidy still had classes for another two hours, but she would eventually make her way there for a little study sesh. So Georgia planned to enjoy the solitude while she could.

The main reason Georgia loved having her own room was because she could spread out her books and play some gentle background music from her phone. The soft jazzy tunes were stimulating without being distracting.

It would have been ideal, if that cacophony of hacking wasn't disturbing the peace. She could just spot Jeremy through a row of books from where she was sitting.

Somehow, he looked even worse than earlier.

His skin had taken on a ashy pallor, except for the Rudolph red nose and dark purple crescents beneath his eyes. He buried his mouth into the crook of his elbow and let out a walloping cough that hurt just to watch. Then he rubbed his nose on his sleeve and coughed once more, openly, almost as if he was caught off guard by it.

She grabbed her hand sanitizer again.

A familiar blonde head of hair came bobbing through the rows, a scowl curling her lips down as she, too, watched him. She turned to the window, made eye contact with Georgia, and cringed.

"Hey Cass," Georgia greeted as her beautiful, slender friend came in.

"Hey," She said, shutting the door behind her and letting out a deep breath. "Dude looks like he's dying."

"...You don't recognize him?"

Cassidy paused. "Should I?"

"Yeah, it's Jeremy."

"...From Professor Cartwrights class?"

"Yeah."

Cassidy turned and stared so blatantly that Georgia tilted out of view from the window, just in case anyone looked their way.

"Jesus," Cassidy mumbled, making the sign of the cross over her chest.

She set her bag down flat on the table and peeked through the window. The front desk was not in view, but it was obvious who she was looking for.

"Has she been by yet?"

The librarian's made rounds hourly or so. Trying to stagger the times enough in an attempt to catch anyone being naughty but not enough to be considered random.

Georgia shook her head, locks of gently curled hair swaying into her face.

"It's a different lady today."

"Oh good." Cassidy rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small box, passing it gingerly across the table. "For you."

Without even lifting the lid, the intoxicating smell of chocolate filled her senses. Georgia couldn't stop the smile from stretching across her face as she snatched the box up.

"For me? What's the occasion?"

"Your birthday! I know it's not till next week, but tests are coming up so I figured you'd need a pick-me-up."

God, she had amazing friends.

Not everyone would smuggle illegal food into the campus library just to be nice. (That's a lie, literally everyone did. But, still, it's the thought that counts.)

Georgia didn't hesitate. A three layer slice of heaven with caramel and coconut filling beamed up at her. It came from her favorite little bakery too.

"Thank you!" She sang.

The first bite melted on her tongue. She loved this cake. It was like a hug for her taste buds. But, if she had the choice, she would never eat chocolate again if it meant she could have just one more taste of her Nana Janet’s famous spiced pear and caramel chocolate cake.

Nana was a prized baker in their home town. She'd won plenty of county fairs and city bake-off's. Almost all were with her famous cake. It was so delicious that children would try to compete to be invited to Georgia's birthdays, because she always, always had that cake. Up until the year Nana passed, God rest her soul.

And, unfortunately, the recipe died with her. Every attempt to recreate it just...wasn't it.

An absolute Hellish symphony of hacking banished her fond memory in a heartbeat. She groaned, the sound coming out as more of a growl with her lips wrapped around the spoon.

"Why is he even here? If I looked and sounded like that, I wouldn't leave my bed. Fuck studying," Cassidy said, turning a harsh glare Jeremy's way.

Georgia agreed with a wordless grunt. She tried to block out the sound as she sank into her treat, conjuring up that precious memory again.

A scream pierced the air, sharp and shrill; goosebumps erupted along her arms.

The first fleeting thought that swept through her head was "shooter". She dropped down from the chair, spoon lost to the floor, and knelt low enough that nothing from the eyes down could be seen through the window.

A muffled shout. "Call nine-one-one!" filtered into the room.

There wasn't any popping. There wasn't any more screaming. But there was a small group starting to huddle; what few students in the library were crowding around a table.

Cassidy cracked the door open and was rewarded with a shaky, "-just collapsed! I don't know...Give him some space!" from Miss Temp Librarian.

Georgia was curious; a flip-of-the-coin kind of trait. Heads, it pays off, tails, it bites her in the butt. Despite that roaring voice telling her to join the crowd, to see what's happening, something in her whispered to stay where she was.

But why?

It took a few seconds before it hit her.

.

.

.

The coughing had stopped.

And from between the rows of books and shifting legs, Jeremy was there on the ground, staring through her with vacant, glossy eyes.