Welcome to Gaia! ::

Getting out of the taxi in front of the library, Jada took a deep breath, running her hand over her steel gray pencil skirt and straightening it. She hadn't been at work in several weeks, but she'd made sure her "boss" knew that she wasn't supposed to lift more than ten pounds- not because of stitches or surgery, but because she was still shaky at best. Though she was healing well, and quickly, her back would spasm when she tried to lift too much weight, and that was what they wanted to avoid. The slash across her back was finally an issue of concern as high as the still-raw burns that decorated her lower back.

The library doors slid open, the familiar rush of air conditioning rushing over her face and blowing her black curls from their perfect style. It was good to be back; she had missed lots of things about the library. The smell of the books was one of them, the faint sound of whispers. Even the rhythmic beeping of people checking out the books at the circulation desk. She was wearing dark gray pumps in lieu of her normal heels; it was supposed to be easier on her, and would mean she could actually wander the library.

She waved at one of the other women on duty, gave another a quick hug and slipped into the door to the back. 'Employees Only.' For almost three years she'd worked here, starting her volunteer hours at fifteen, just to get them out of the way. Yet somehow, she'd stuck with it. Perhaps it was the fact that she enjoyed the company of older people, maybe she just liked the addicting smell of the books. It was sort of strange how much more of a homecoming this was after her two week absence than her actual home had been. She'd already gotten a warmer welcome from the people here than she had from her family. Ah, maybe it was an issue of desensitization.

She knocked on the door of the head librarian. She was supposed to meet with Anthony, give him a list of can-dos and cant-dos, blah blah. She didn't wait for the 'come in' before she was pushing open the door, beaming at the older man behind his desk. "Long time no see, Mr. D!" she smiled at him, delighted to see him again. "Looking as dapper as always." She moved over to the chair in front of his desk, dragging it over to his side of the desk and taking a seat- again, without asking. He'd been expecting her anyways, and she wasn't uncomfortable barging in. She crossed her ankles neatly, messing with the white cuff of her shirt sleeve until it lay properly. "So, what have I missed?"

He was looking his usual self, neatly trimmed goatee and carefully mussed hair, that wasn't supposed to look mussed, she assumed. From what she knew about Tony, he was nearing 40, never married, never cared to be. In three years, Jada had never known him to talk about his dates, never known him to have a woman stop by the office and bring him some tasty little treats, never known him to do anything but act like he loved his job. Her light little jabs at poking under the surface to discover the person within had gone mostly rebuffed over the years.

Until now.

Anthony Darrow was her Friend of the Day. Purple eyes lit up at the sight of the box and Jada pulled the cover off eagerly, eyes widening at the succulent treats inside. If she could glow, she may have been, as she looked at the older man with unparallelled delight, flinging herself out of the chair and into his, with him, beaming up into his face. "Aww, Tony, I didn't know you cared!" It was only half a joke, the candies clutched protectively to her chest, nothing improper about the way she nudged him playfully. "Seriously, I didn't know you knew how much I loved strawberries."

The young woman scooted back out of the chair as quickly as she'd found her way into it, slender fingers twitching as she eyed the candies with visible glee. The chocolate was slightly chilled, so he'd recently gotten them out of the refrigerator. "I solemnly swear not to stress myself out. I am going to have to make some adjustments to my schedule though." She may as well let him know, since questions were certainly going to be asked. "I need to get caught up on my schoolwork, so I'd like to halve my hours on Saturday, If I may." Normally she would put in 2-4 hours a day Monday through Thursday, and 3-6 hours every other Saturday. With her workout and class schedules, plus her other expected activities-music and dance lessons, private studies- it didn't leave her much time to herself, which is why Fridays and Sundays were devoted to solitude and those things she had neglected during the week.

"So when are you going to put me on the payroll?" It was conversational, teasing. Mr. Darrow knew as well as Jada herself did that she wasn't in need of being put on the payroll here, and that she enjoyed her work. All the more for the fact it was volunteer, oddly. One could say it fed her sense of self-satisfaction. "I don't talk about it that much."

At fifteen, Jada was a new volunteer to the public library. At fifteen, she was wearing little crystal earrings Lisa had given her, along with a matching necklace and bracelet- little crystal strawberries. "They are my favorite fruit." she'd babbled at him, as he guided her around the library.

At sixteen, she'd giggled, pulling out her strawberry-covered credit card from her strawberry-covered wallet. "They are my favorite fruit." she'd babbled at him, as he looked at her strawberry-shaped purse in bemused silence.

"I don't want to take away too many of my hours. I feel it is important I return to my normal schedule as soon as possible." she explained, and reached into the box, pulling out one of the chocolate covered items and biting into it happily. She made a soft noise, chewing at the plump red fruit. Mmm, sweet. "Thank you so much, Tony."

"You know I don't want to be official staff." She smiled at him. "We're needing more volunteers anyway, and I can't devote the hours that would be needed for being on payroll." It would be less beneficial for her to be employed anyhow, even though it would give her something to put on her resume.

Her father had already told her when she got a job he'd be cutting off part of her allowance, to get her used to spending earned money. "Anyway," Jada continued, beaming at Tony, "I go to college next year, and my hours will be even more varied than they are now. DCU, and I'll finally be eighteen."

She followed him out front. "As for what I think, I'll do what you say and I'll follow my Doctor's instructions to the letter, I promise." she paused, smiling at one of the people who stepped forward, taking their card and running the books through the system. "Due back in two weeks," a glance at the top of the library receipt, "Thank you, Ernie."

Jada was, with 4 months left to go until she had unlimited access to her multi-million-dollar Trust Fund (thank you, Grandpa Montgomery!), completely unconcerned with having a job. Or at least getting paid for it. "I'm not your normal kid." she said, and grinned.

As Tony started checking out the gentleman with the huge pile of books, the young woman leaned over. "Some good choices here." she commented to him. He stammered some response she only half-heard, her attention on the older man.

"I'm going to study business, of course." she smiled at him. "Numbers and trends, management and..." she waved her hand. "I'll support myself through my body." On the customer's side of the desk, the sound of something clattering to the floor. "I've wanted to be a model for a while. I still think I could pull it off." Minus the fact she was too short and too curvy... she could pull it off.

Red lips met his disapproving look with a beaming smile. "I know about contracts." she told him, and reached out for the books another patron was pushing at her. So what if she wasn't "on the clock" yet? She'd been standing at a computer, and customers of all ages were 'now, now, now.' The older woman was looking at her with a mildly disapproving look- was it what she was wearing? For Jada, she was actually doing the part of dowdy. Of course, she was wearing a business-appropriate outfit. It had the effect of making a woman look older. Never did it cross Jada's mind it could be what she was saying.

"Not all of the rumors are going to be true, Tony Darling." she was always experimenting with nicknames for him. Over the last three years, Tony had been called darling, sweetheart, honey, love, sugarlumps, honeybun... the nicknames went on. And on. (Jada's favorite for him was A-Team. But that was only when she was feeling particularly irreverent.) The nicknames spilled off her lips with a familiar impropriety and affection that a child her age shouldn't have for a man of his age. (Not unless he was old enough to be her stepson, which was another story entirely.) Carol only got the honey and darling. "You of all people should be aware of the cruel injustices that people must suffer at the hands of the media."

His disapproval made her internally quail a little. It had been Tony whose silent support had gotten her through Geoffrey's death when she was sixteen. In some ways he had become a surrogate for him. Not with the love- no, she'd never love someone else the way she had loved Geoff. But in other ways. It was difficult for her to explain. What may have tipped her supervisor off to the way her thoughts had turned was the way things around her suddenly seemed to dim. Even Jada's depression and pain were normally expressed with an eloquence that belonged to a woman who was used to being the center of attention.

She watched the patrons leave, remaining alone with Tony at the circulation desk. "He's been gone for over a year now. I didn't get to put flowers on his grave." He'd know who 'he' was. she stepped closer to Tony, slid her arm through his, pressed her face to his sleeve. Just for a moment. Luckily for Tony's jacket, Jada didn't wear much makeup, if any.

"I have always had my head about me." she agreed, pleased at the fact that Tony was commenting on it. One thing: Modest, Jada was not. At least not deliberately modest. She ate up compliments and pulled them out later to look at them as if they were shiny gold stars that were her due just for existing. Never when anyone else could see; her actions, from sweet naivete to playful pervert, were all almost instinctively calculated to get people to like her as much as possible. She moved with the flow of the attitude in a room to get maximum attention out of it. It was why she really would make such a good model: Jada could be whoever the camera wanted. She'd had years of practice.

"I do solemnly swear to be a very good girl, and to share some of the basic contracts with you." Tony smelled good, and Jada leaned against him for silent comfort for another moment. The chances of her little modeling dream becoming reality were small; her parents would both throw hissy fits, and Jada still strove after her mother's love and approval far too much to risk it on modeling.

Didn't she?

"Yeah." she said finally, pulling her head off of his arm. beamed at Tony and moved back to her box of chocolate strawberries. Her movements were stiff, almost jerky. She collapsed into the chair behind the desk, pulling out one of the fruits and biting into it viciously. "Tony, you're amazing. My hero." she saluted him with the remaining piece of strawberry in her hand.