35. Library Encounter
1097 Words
Raja Finns is inviting me for lunch with the famous Moon Sol. I mean it's kinda a dream come true because sadly I am among the half dazed girls obsessed with Derrick Vale a.k.a The Devil's Eyre. Shouldn't I be hyperventilating or something... Or squealing into my pillow and practicing several different syrupy versions of 'Oh My God'.
How do I decline this gorgeous invitation when Raja's voice drools gently over the phone
"Dammy said bring a friend. Girl, I can think of no one else but you"
"An honor " I roll my eyes while my mind is nowhere close to the enthusiasm I ought to feel.
"So, Detroix Cafe. In an hour" Raja's voice is low "I have spoken to Vale about you already. "
This is the part where my voice ought to get squeaky with feverish shrills because first offs
Detroix Cafe is like the central top restaurant in Tish. It isn't just a place. It is "the" place.
And Derrick Vale is literally the Derrick Vale... Hello ...
But my throat is parched and I feel like a rat in a squeak hole. My chest heaves while I plot out a million escape routes
From this... Dream come true ... ?
From this... Free dash to semi stardom. ?
My voice is tight "Raja, I don't think I will make it in an hour
"Two hours then, honey" Raja's voice drools hastily "We can reschedule to two hours later, then...
"Yes .I mean no " I stutter, "Let's just write off today because..." The lies waltz off my flimsy tongue after a half minute hesitance "I've got rehearsals in half an hour and after that I've got dance class and then .."
"And then and then " I imagine Raja rolling her eyes "s**t, school is literally a loophole of stress. Honey, that's the reason I took this year off as a gap year. " She sighs then continues "Tour the world with Dammy and the band. Live a f*****g stress-free life . On my own mother f*****g terms, sweetheart. "
"I'm happy you are living the life of your dreams " I coo flatly, relieved she swallowed the bit without a shred of doubt. Oh well, who said I couldn't lie well .
"Assuredly" She squeals "Honey, can you get back to me and tell me when you are less ...choked maybe . Vale is dying to meet you. You won't believe the stuffs I told him "
"I can imagine " I snort .
"Good stuffs" Raja laughs "Sexy stuffs. Very soon, you will be on the tabloids. I can't believe he likes you already ".
"I can't believe it either " I smirk, because yeah, would you believe it ?
"See ya soon "
"Hopefully" I mutter before the line goes dead.
Phew. I take a couple of breaths and go over the absurdity of the situation.
Theres no way I am stalking Jordan Files because assuredly that is exactly what I am doing. I am standing at the door of The Library where I had seen him walk into after the test.
Walk into since eighteen minutes ago. Or is it nineteen maybe. My chest is burning up with tiny darts of panic. I cannot forget that some hours ago I had seen Jordan Files about to die.
In my wretched haunting vision.
Well the panic is real. I take a few steps and try to steady myself but I can barely breathe well.
My feet pilots me straight pass the door and I find myself in the Library.
The library looks like a quiet cathedral of whispering shelves. Rows upon rows of books stand like silent juries, their spines worn and dignified, watching me creep between them.
It's too cold in here. Or maybe it's just me. My skin prickles, my pulse too loud for this place. Every footstep echoes, like it's rattling on me.
Behind a high oak counter sits the librarian: a thin woman with steel-grey hair coiled into a bun and a pair of glasses that look like they can slice through lies. She lifts her eyes from a stack of catalog cards and fixes them on me.
"Excuse me," she says in that soft bookish voice, "are you looking for something in particular?"
My lips shape a brittle smile. "Just—uh—books. Just looking for… books."
She snorts and spreads her hands in a wide shrug "Books are literally the air we breath in here. Shouldn't there be one in particular?"
"The Sorrows Of Satan. Marie..."
"Corelli" She finishes for me and adjusts her glass "Left Wing ."
I fill in some details and then she hands me a card and then I am free to go.
Go where exactly..
The left wing houses vasts shelves of books , tall shelves that touched the ceiling. God. How I was I to locate Jordan in this choked up cluttered space of centuries old books and wisps of lore.
And what was he doing in the library in the first place. Shouldn't be be somewhere less choked? More easy to stalk...
Fuck. I don't want to believe I'm stalking him. I just want to pass the danger warning and waltz off to a guiltless afternoon. Even if my mind was working at triple speed to triple my panic.
Shit. What if he had already been silently slaughtered and stuffed somewhere in the vast shelf.
"Looking for this" I nearly jump out of my skin in fright at the suddenness of the voice behind me. A book is shoved to me while a too familiar haughty hand stays on my neck, massaging it in tender irksome motions.
Yes. My face contorts into a frown while I turn to face my supreme discomfort who unfortunately I must save. Or warn. Or whatever I ought to do to stop my guilty panicky heart.
Jordan Files.
And unsurprisingly, the book is Marie Corelli 's Sorrows Of Satan. My face is a half mask of undisguised fury.
- Writer
