Page 21 of The Obsession

We glanced at each other for a split second before doubling over, giggling hard. Aisha wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

“You’re such a dork,” she said.

My phone buzzed then. I checked the message and straightened up.

“I gotta go,” I told Aisha. “You gonna be around after my shift ends?”

“I’ll probably be in the lab, feeding Lucy,” she said. Lucy was the school’s pet snake. Each week, students volunteered to help look after her over the weekend, which was pretty weird in my book, but whatever floated their boats. I never volunteered. I didn’t even like the sight of Lucy.

I shuddered. “I don’t know why you volunteer to feed that snake. It’s so creepy.”

She gave me a wicked grin. “Extra credit. You should come watch me feed her sometime.”

“Yeah, right. Over my dead body. Okay, see you later.”

She waved me off, probably relieved that something had interrupted my nagging. I briskly walked to the library.

The library was hands down the most beautiful building at Draycott. It wasn’t the biggest, but it felt like the most well-thought-out—built out of sandstone, columns in a neat row, and large stained glass windows. The main entrance led to a bright, airy dome that magnified sound, so people immediately became self-conscious about every bit of noise they made. It was ingenious. I stopped by the Secrets board as usual, scanning the new posts, before making my way down the spiral steps. I pushed open the heavy steel door at the bottom and headed into the climate-controlled stacks, where Lisa was waiting for me.

“There you are,” she chirped when she saw me. “How are you, Dee?” She skittered toward me—I mean it literally, the woman couldn’t seem to walk like a normal person, she always took a series of tiny, dainty, quick steps. Her bird-bone arms lifted, and for a horrifying second, I thought she was going to hug me, but then she changed her mind—phew!—and patted me on the shoulder instead. “Oh, what happened to your stepdad is awful, just awful.”

If you were to open an encyclopedia and go to the entry marked L—Librarian, you’d see a picture of Lisa. Midforties, single, wears mustard-colored knit cardigans complete with a brooch above the left breast. The brooch looked ancient, probably some sort of family heirloom. And glasses, of course. Sometimes, I tried to imagine what Lisa was like as a kid. Each time, I failed miserably. Lisa looked prepackaged, like she came into existence wearing her knitted cardigans, sensible chiropractic shoes, and argyle stockings.

I liked working for Lisa, but I hated that I knew next to nothing about her, especially since our work was so sensitive in nature. I didn’t know where she lived, what she spent her weekends doing, what she liked to eat or watch or whatever. And not for a lack of effort, either. I was dying to know more about Lisa. There was so much more to her than meets the eye. But each time I asked her stuff like, “Did you do anything fun last weekend?” she’d say, “Yes. Let’s get to work.” I’d looked her up online once, but gave up when I realized there were about twelve million Lisa Smiths in the world.

All I knew was she owned multiples of the same cardigan and she had a pet of some sort; I sometimes saw gray strands of fur caught in her cardigan. I prided myself on the pet knowledge—that was some next-level detecting.

“I know you’re supposed to have one more day off to mourn,” Lisa said, “but we are so swamped here. There are new orders and special shipments and—” She shot me an imploring look. “You know how voracious the kids here are, and so spoiled too. Not you, of course. But some of the kids here… They expect everything to arrive instantly, and when they don’t get what they want, they get really cranky. I’m dying. Can you come back a day early?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said. I wasn’t the one who chose to take time off work in the first place. Mom had suggested it, and I’d thought it looked right. It was the kind of thing people did when someone close to them died in a horrible accident. But I was keen to get back to work. Ever since Brandon took over the finances, I knew how important money was.

Some nights, as I lay in bed pressing an ice pack to my legs or my back, the only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that I was ferreting money away. Money nobody knew about. Money I would one day use to escape the hellhole I’d found myself in. And although Brandon was gone, as much as I loved Mom, I didn’t trust her not to fall for yet another asshole. She was vulnerable and probably burned out after having the last two men in her life die in horrific ways. I couldn’t count on her for stability.

Lisa sagged with relief. “You, my dear, are a godsend.” She hurried to the back of the stacks and plucked a folder from one of the many boxes piled up against the wall. “Here’s the latest inventory. Catalog them and make sure the deliveries are safe, use the usual security protocol—oh, what am I saying? You know what to do.” She paused to smile at me, her eyes shining behind her glasses. “I am so glad to have you back, Dee.”

“Me. Too.” I went away with my heart singing. Brandon was out of our lives, I had a well-paying job that I loved, and I scored a date with the hottest guy in my year. Honestly, it felt like the universe was rewarding me for getting rid of Brandon. If I’d known killing him was all I had to do to make everything come together so beautifully, I would’ve done it a lot sooner.

* * *

Saturday morning, Aisha came over to help me get ready. Her presence and the fact I was about to go on my first date revived Mom. She and Mom fluttered about me like annoying butterflies, fluffing my hair and adjusting my shirt. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t actually mind having them fuss over me. Aisha used to come over all the time, especially when she first started boarding at Draycott and got really homesick. She’d climb out of her dorm window and take the bus to my place and make Mom and Pa swear they wouldn’t tell her parents, and they’d sigh and agree, but this would be the last time, okay? In the morning they’d drive her back to Draycott, and by nighttime she’d be back at the front door again, telling us Draycott kids were monsters. But over time, she started making other friends and she stopped running away to my place. And of course, when Brandon was around, I didn’t allow any friends to come over. I was too afraid of what Brandon might say, too scared my friends might somehow piss him off, and too ashamed to have anyone see how afraid I was.

“Maybe you should undo the top button,” Mom said as I combed my hair.

“Ew, Mooom!” I cried at the same time Aisha said, “Ooh, yeah, your mom’s right!”

The room went silent as we stared at one another, and then we burst into screams of laughter.

“I am being the worst mom ever, aren’t I?” Mom gave a dramatic sigh.

“Mom, stop freaking out.” I exchanged an eye roll with Aisha, but we were both still grinning. Aisha reached to unbutton my top, and I swatted her hand.

“I can’t help it. Look at my little baby all grown up and going on dates.” Mom dabbed an imaginary tear from her eye. “I feel like I should play the part of an overly protective father. Should I greet this boy at the door with a shotgun?”

“Yes, please greet Logan with a shotgun. Pleeease,” Aisha said. “I’ll have my camera ready.”

“We don’t have a shotgun,” I said.

“You don’t?” Aisha said. “How unpatriotic.”

---