2. Who Would Lock Themselves In A Library?

      As if my day couldn’t get any worse, that Rowen guy added. I decided that I hate detectives. I told him that I have no idea about what he’s talking about, but he kept pressing the topic. I told what I was doing that day—which was finishing my novel, talking random shits for the contest, and sleeping. Lots of sleeping—but he still pushed on whatever he believed in. No one told me that middle-aged detectives are graceless creatures. Our talk was going in circles when Mrs. Apple came back to the office with another student that I somehow managed to recognize. One of Diane’s friends, I thought. He must’ve been in the party list, too.

      “Detective Rowen.” Mrs. Apple said, and that’s enough to rip off Rowen’s attention from me. Afterward, I happily left Mrs. Apple’s office.

      I found myself unconsciously walking towards the field, right to the bleachers. Whenever I was thinking about something, I’d end up here, or at the comfort room or the library. Those are the three spots where I considered as the only peaceful spot for me in the entire Ravenwood. No one actually hung out under the bleachers, no one would take too long inside an unused comfort room and no one would literally go to the library. But today, I wasn’t so lucky.

      Right when I saw bulky bodies with black and yellow jerseys, I muttered to myself, “Yep. Life really is fun.”

      Sitting on the bleachers are Gabe Gabrentine and his other smelly friends. There’s no practice today, and they got no reason to be in here. Like you, my brain thought. And yet you’re still here. They saw me, which was pretty bad. Of course, I turned around and thought of the other spots where I could hang out, but two large hands gripped my shoulder and turned me around again. In front of me was one of Gabe Gabrentine’s friends, Julius Hearth. Nathan’s brother. Chick boy. Asshole.

      He wasn’t grinning at me like a good and said, “Hey, Skinny Toes! Why don’t you hang with us for a while, huh?”

      Why don’t you hang with us for a while, huh?: Dangerous.

      “No, not really,” I said. “Go ahead and enjoy your smelly party.”

      I tried to escape his grip, but expect a football guy to have large hands and a tight grip. Also smelly. I  don’t know if this is the case with the other school jocks, but they’re just smelly for me. They smelled like sweat, covered with thick and strong cologne. 

      Julius put his arms around me, dragging me towards his other friends who were laughing while watching me getting dragged by Julius. I was nearly choking. “Don’t be such a bore, Skinny Toes,” Julius whispered.

      Some of his friends ran towards us, patting me in the back and saying things like, “How’re you, Skinny Toes? Did that hot sauce we poured all over your face’s still working its magic?” Yes, I know, real sweet guys we got here. They dragged me along, my neck between their beefy arms  and my face suffocating on their armpits (the worst torture ever) to the point that I was glad when they dropped me in front of Gabe Gabrentine (A. K. A the smelliest guy of all time.)

      “Well, if isn’t Skinny Toes?” Gabe greeted, making the three girls—Ashe’s Fierro’s minions—behind him giggle. What’s funny about that? I don’t know. “How long has it been since we had fun? Three days?”

      I snarled at him. “I think you’re mistaking me with Mrs. Apple.” because you literally just pranked me with that old locker trick this morning. That one gained some ooh’s from his friends.

      Gabe’s grin disappeared, just like his dignity when his and Mrs. Apple’s video conquered the campus. Okay, no. He wasn’t exactly ashamed. Hell, he was proud when that happened. I wanted to yell at the heavens and say, “Why?!” like, why did you drop me in this junk place? Why did my mother have to be some kind of garbage? Why did my father have to die? Why can’t I be normal? You know, those kinds of stuff.

      “Ah, right. I got a surprise for you. Got this somewhere in our house.” Gabe reached something from the pocket of his jeans. From his pocket was a small and stylish USB. He handed it to with his grin back, his eyes glinting brighter than usual. “It’s full of those shows.”

      I didn’t take the USB (because why?) and stared at him with disgust. Really, what’s wrong with people these days? I feel like I’ve been born in the wrong era. And who would keep a small drive full of—

      “But, Skinny Toes, I was trying to cheer you up,” Gabe said, giving me a that’s so sad, let me give you my precious USB of pornography look. He shifted on his seat while his other friends tried their best to not interrupt and snicker around us. Or laugh at their phones. Who knows? “I mean, it’s not like I believe that rumors, but make sense.”

      There are a whole bunch of rumors going around Ravenwood. That dead girl’s ghost haunting one of the classrooms, Gabe’s affair with Mrs. Apple (confirmed true), Diane Segui dead, random teenage boy being gay, random teenage girl hooking up with two guys, a random student using drugs and a bunch of other ridiculous things, but now, whatever Gabe was talking about, I was sure I have no idea what he was talking about.

      He must’ve seen my confused expression (I’m afraid it’s kind of permanent. I always had that What the heck am J doing here? look) and began to laugh loudly, glancing at his friends like can you believe this gal? Apparently, I had no time to watch their ugly laughing, and also, my nose can’t handle their stench, so I turned around and started to walk away.

      “Aren’t you the one who got Diane killed?” That stopped me. “Or worse.. you are the one who killed her.”

      “You’re stupid to believe that.” I simply said. I glanced at his friends and the other students that were discreetly watching us. “She’s not dead.”

      Gabe raised his eyebrows like he’s challenging me. “Really? What, do you expect us to believe that?” he snapped his fingers in front of me. “Wake up, Skinny Toes. She’s dead. It’s obvious. And it’s your fault. If it wasn’t, why would that dark guy want to talk to you? You’re obviously one of the culprits.”

      He knew about detective Rowen. Did he talk to Gabe, too? I anxiously looked around, afraid that they’ll actually believe smelly Gabe. And they were. Even the other students that actually had nothing to do with me and all this drama got this terrified look on their faces like He makes sense. I’m totally posting this on the school thread.

      I know he was trying to get under my skin, but I  felt scared and guilty, even though I had no reason to be. Rumors? These kinds of rumors are going around the campus? The idea scared me. Someone out here was pinning this all down on me, and whoever and if ever I had a list of my suspects, probably the whole student body would be there. Everyone seemed to hate me here, except other students like George Matthews. Or maybe it was just one of their pranks, their horrible kind of fun. I remembered Ashe Fierro doing the same to me months ago.  She blamed me for the chaos in the cafeteria, told the school committee that I started it by attacking a guy. And then she came up to me with a smirk on her face and said, “Oops, my bad.”

      Even though I was slightly afraid, I wasn’t really that shocked. With all these a-holes and bitches going around the campus, and me being all weird and outcaste, it’s almost normal to expect this kind of thing. That’s how depressing life is, especially when the people around you didn’t like you. So you got to expect negative things and give zero fucks.

      Great. As if my life wasn’t miserable enough

      I didn’t say anything, didn’t waste my time defending myself as I did with detective Rowen, instead, I gave him one last dead look and turned on my heels. There were so many things that are better to do than being in the presence of the most stinky person that probably existed. All j can do was to hope that they use their small brains for a change. Whatever, this issue about Diane would die, give it some weeks. Maybe two. But still...

      When I looked up, someone bumped into me. (It was so cliche.) I don’t know if I was momentarily blind, stupid or whoever I crashed with was just dumb. I was about to say something like Watch it or something (normally, I’d say sorry, but this wasn’t a normal day)  when I realized who was in front of me.

      In front of me was the only person that actually treated me fairly. You all know who I was talking about. George Matthews. He was staring down at me with his bright blue eyes. Everything about him made him look serious, but his eyes just naturally twinkled. As I was staring at him, I realized what was the reason why girls go gaga about him. He wasn’t really that famous guy who happened to be an athlete or like your typical cool guy, but he had this charisma like It’s okay, it’s just my vibe. I had no idea what that meant.

      “I’m sorry,” He finally said. His eyes wandered behind me. “I wasn’t looking.”

      I tried to find the right words that I should say. Should I thank him? Ask him why he’s always helping me to get away from the bullying? But then, before I could even utter a word, he walked past me. Well, isn’t that so convenient? There was a pang in my chest, thinking that I just lost my chance to actually talk to him. I didn’t look back to see where he was heading and continued on my way.

      Hours flew by, and I found myself waking up inside the library. I tried to remember why the heck I ended up here, but the books and my project gave it away. I looked around to see that the place was empty as ever, and the outside the window, the sky was dark. I looked at the large alarm clock standing beside the big doors of the library.

      “Ten p.m.?” I thought out loud. “What the heck?”

      Why did no one even shake me awake? Even the ugliest way of waking up like.. throwing a bucket of water in my face, blowing a hornet to my ear, kicking me or tying me up or something. Those ways always work (believe me, I experienced all of it and more.) What a perfect time for them to be kind. I frowned, shoving my things in my old backpack and getting out of my seat.

      I still can’t believe that I’ve been sleeping here for hours. Even Mr. Jones didn’t even make the effort to wake me up. He’s the librarian, one of my favorite teachers. He knows all about the books in this place, and he’s quite fair, not like the mad-zilla of this school, Mrs. Apple.

      When I turned to leave, that’s when I saw a girl sitting across the table, reading a book like she doesn’t even care how late is it. Oh, I thought. Thanks for waking me up, stranger. Only then I realized that this was the girl that  O met in Mrs. Apple’s office this afternoon. She still had that frown and bored face as she stares (read) at the book that she’s holding, her mismatched eyes turning into a deeper shade of blue and green under the warm lights of the library. She doesn’t seem to notice (or she simply doesn’t care) my presence. And I did nothing to make her turn to me. Deep inside my brain, I was wondering if she’s also interrogated by detective Rowen, then I realized I don’t care.

      I silently made my way towards the doors of the library, readying myself to act like a ninja the moment I set my foot on the halls. The good thing was, Ravenwood stays open until eleven o’clock, give that there are teachers and other workers still doing their stuff. The bad thing was, students, aren’t allowed to casually stroll around the campus this late unless you have something to do. And I don’t. But I can improvise.

      Readying for improvised reasons, I turned to the knob of the library doors, only to learn that it was locked from the outside. Who the heck locks a library and also on the outside? Convinced that I won’t stay in a library through out the night, I tried some hopeless tricks. Like hoping that it would open, and forcing it to open.

      I pounded loudly on the door. “Hey!”  I yelled, my horrible voice filling the entire library. “Let us out!”

      It was hopeless. I looked at the girl with me, but she’s still there, frowning at the book she’s reading. She didn’t even look at me and my idiocy, which is okay. She’s just there, her eyes scanning the book she has in her hand, her mismatched eyes turning into a deeper shade of green and blue, fringed with dark eyelashes, under the worm lights above us, still wearing her brown, oversized hoodie.

      Apart of me wanted to call for her and ask whatever the **** happened,  but I remembered the hateful look she gave me back at Mrs. Apple’s office this afternoon. Maybe she’s one of the students that joined Hate-Sam-Parade or something. One of the beauty cliques? No, I don’t think so. She’s beautiful, very,  and she had the hint of mischief in her, but she doesn’t have the bitchy vibe Ashe always gave me. Maybe one of the female jocks? Bah. I also don’t think that’s it. Maybe just one of the students that really just treats me like garbage with entertainment value? Yeah, that’s probably it.

      Or maybe I’m just overthinking things here.

      As I stare at her, I wondered if detective Rowen also interrogated her. Was she also on the damn list he was talking about? Remembering my conversation with detective Rowen and his accusing questions made my blood boil. Stupid detectives and stupid witnesses.

      Shrugging off the thought (because why not) I made my way towards the chair where I was seated again. I plopped myself there, feeling as hopeless as ever. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always hopeless. Hopeless is my middle name, but I’m hopeless hopeless. I tried to think of how to get our of this place like maybe, breaking the installed large glass windows at the end of the library, or making very loud noises, but it was impossible. I doubt I can even break the windows, and if ever I did, I’m too broke to pay for it. And in making noises, it would just be impossible because this library is underground.

      I shrunk on my seat and threw my arms to the air. “Great!”

      Suddenly, the girl shut the book she was reading and slammed it down the table. She turned to me, her eyebrows knitting. “You’re so loud.”

      I couldn’t even believe that she’s much concerned than my loudness instead of the fact that we’re locked in here. I stared at her confusion and frustration.

      “Are you kidding me?” I asked incredulously. “Are you even aware that we’re locked here? If we don’t get out—”

      “Who cares?” and she looked genuinely confused like why?

      “I do. And you should, too.” I replied. “We’re trapped in here.”

      She groaned, picking up the book she was reading, These Marvelous Creatures, and focused on them again. I shook my head in disbelief. How could someone not panic in this kind of situation? I sighed in exasperation, my mind drawing blanks as I think of a way to get out of here. And the universe loved me so much that it picked a very helpful companion for me.

      I decided that I should try to worry less and do something like to worry more. Did that make sense? No. Just like what’s happening now.

      I decided to talk to strangers. “Hey,” I called out across the table. The girl lifted her mismatched eyes on me. It was strange. One having the brightest shade of blue, and the other palest green, with the color of amber in the middle. Then I backed up. “Do you have any idea how we can get out of her?”

      She stared at me for a moment like she’s appraising me, then her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

      “What?”

      She frowned at me, then focused on her book again. I bit back a curse and glared at the table in front of me.  “Really, do you want to be here all evening?” I asked.

      “I wouldn’t be here if I don’t.” she actually replied, turning another page of her book, but I got the feeling that I got even the slightest bit of her attention.

      All I could do was to give her a confused look and think why. Why would someone like to be trapped in someplace inside a school? And she doesn’t even look like she’s lying.  I shook my head, muttering to myself. “How to get out.. how to get out..”

       Being trapped, knowing that I can’t get out of somewhere was the thing that I hate the most. I’ve spent my childhood inside a damned and clamped room, I’ve had enough of it.

       From across the table, the girl sighed. “I can’t focus on my book if you keep muttering things like that.” She said, throwing me an annoyed look.

      “Well, I’m sorry. Would you like me to shut up and silently thank the gods for feeling so blessed?”

      That got her attention. Closing her book, she stood up and looked around the room like she’s realizing that she’s inside Ravenwood’s library. She walked towards one of the bookshelves and put the book there with an annoyed look on her face.

      When she turned to me, she was scowling. “I thought that I’d find my peace and quiet here,” she said, then she gestured towards me like I’m the most hateful creature that existed. “But then, here you are.”

       “Aren’t you bothered with all of this?” I asked, found my voice.

       She looked at me, her mismatched eye color disorienting me and mesmerizing me at the same time. “I’m not. I wouldn’t lock myself in here if I am.”

      “You what?”

      That earned a slight smirk from her. Crossing her arms, she leaned on the foundation of the bookshelf beside her. She tilted her head as if studying me. “You heard me.”

      “But why?!”

       She frowned as if all my questions were annoying her. “Because I want to. I always do this on Thursdays.” She said, and it sounded some there’s a hidden joke in there. Which I don’t know and I don’t care. She still locked us in.

      “Didn’t you even think that I might be here with you?”

      She looked like she’s actually thinking. “No, I didn’t.”

       I let this information sink into my brain. I held up a hand, “Okay, okay. How do we get out of here?”

       Her eyes narrowed. “We?” she asked, and before I could answer, she threw something at me. Some small metal that came from the pocket of her hoodie. I caught it, managing to not make a fool out of myself. “No, I don’t think so. I’m here for a reason.”

     I wanted to ask what’s her reason about locking us in here in the middle of the night and all that hit I figured that would be too nosy of me. I barely even know her, and she hates me. I just know it.

     “What’s this for?” I asked, holding up the small key in my hand.

     “For the library’s backdoor.”

     “This place has a back door?” I asked. I never heard of whatever she’s talking about.

      Her eyebrow twitched. “You’re as stupid as they claim you are.” She snapped at me. “At the end of the library, at the archives, there’s another door.”

      With all those things she told me, I just have her a confused look and said, “But the archives are—”

      “Locked? Prohibited? Who cares?” She interrupted, the frown in her face turning into a scowl. “Just leave. You’re going to interrupt the party.”

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