The Library Agreement

03

An hour later, I am back home and collapsing in bed, my nerves still jittering from tonight's encounter. Hailey Richards. The bullied girl.

At least, I think she's been bullied. It's hard to tell when you actually talk to her.

Either way, she knows my secret. Most people would call it a stupid secret, a cliché one. Maybe it is.

But there's a difference between being self-absorbed and being scared to lose everything you have.

Loss has hit me too many times. I can't let myself allow it to come back swinging.

I hope she understands that.

________

Today is my birthday.

Well, it was my birthday. Technically, I'm already enjoying the day after, because it's 3 o' clock in the morning. I can't sleep. Too many things are racing around in my mind to even close my eyes.

Hate at school. Hate on social media.

The usual.

But then there was the library. Charlie Portman. The popular boy.

At least, I think he's popular. It's hard to tell when you actually talk to him.

A part of me, a deep-down, tucked away, never-let-it-show part of me, actually enjoyed seeing this side of the heartthrob of the school. It was like he is real, a person that even I can talk to, a person that won't spread around the rumors and the lies.

And then it hits me.

Charlie Portman promised to keep my secrets.

No one has ever done that for me before.

If I'm honest, I kind of like how it feels.

________

"Are you hearing a word I'm saying right now?"

Nicole O'Neal's voice snaps me back to attention, and I drag my gaze away from Hailey Richards, who is sitting across the lunchroom, a few seats away from all the other kids at her table. My gut twists, remembering last night, and I have to fight the urge to go over and sit with her.

"What?" I ask Nicole, who flicks her blonde hair behind her shoulder, equipped with a steely-cold glare.

"God, Charlie," she drawls. "It's like you never pay attention anymore. Where's your head been lately?"

"Attached to my neck."

"Funny." She scoffs. "Now, seriously, listen up. When are you going to ask me to homecoming?"

"When am I what?"

"You know." She responds off-handedly, inspecting her perfectly-filed nails. "Homecoming. Date. In a few weeks. There's not much time, and everyone else has dates—honestly, it's starting to get a little embarrassing."

"Nicole—" I choke out, panic flooding me. "I—I don't—"

She lifts her blue eyes to meet mine, pouting her lower lip a little.

That makes her look like a pug with an overbite, I think subconsciously, and it takes every bit of willpower I have not to tell her that. I swallow hard, unsure of what I can possibly say. Nicole and I have hung out in the past, but it's nothing serious. I've never been genuinely interested in her in that way.

I thought she knew that.

Obviously, I thought wrong.

And, for some reason, my gaze drifts back over to the lunch table, where Hailey is sitting, watching her as she scrolls through some app on her phone, her expression blank. Unnervingly blank.

I wonder what's showing up on that screen.

Whatever it is, I'm sure she doesn't deserve it.