Page 22 of Something Rad
I make my way over to the library counter and find it vacant. I place my hands on top of it, leaning forward to search for signs of movement in the librarian’s office behind it. “Hello?” I call.
No answer.
I try walking over to the bookshelves next. I weave my way through several of them, still not finding the librarian, or anyone else for that matter. “Hello?Anyone here?”
Only me and the ghosts apparently.
How hard is it for a guy to serve his detention in this school?
I continue to call out after any form of human life until I reach the very back of the library. “Hello?” I call even louder this time. “Ms. Rose? Are you in here–”
I cut off as the door to a supply closet flies open right in front of me and someone storms out of it with a pile of books so high that I can’t even see their face.
I tilt my head as the floating books on legs continue forward in my direction. “Ms. Rose?”
The floating books skid to a stop, clearly startled, and begin to tumble out of the hands holding them.
“Oh, hey, sorry about that!” I say, bending down to pick up some of the fallen books. “I didn’t mean to spook ya, Ms. Ro–”
My apology is cut off when a hand snatches a book I was about to grab right out from under my fingers. I raise my gaze slowly and find myself looking into a set of large gray eyes. Something about them seems somewhat familiar, but I can’t place a finger on it before the eyes are quickly covered from my sight by a curtain of red hair and the somewhat familiar girl is darting around and away from me.
I rise to my feet, straightening my jacket before I turn to face the direction she stormed off in, following after her. She’s standing behind the library counter now, flipping through books and stacking them in various piles at the speed of light. She doesn’t acknowledge me as I approach. I look at her for several seconds, my eyes flicking between her face and the fast movements of her hands clearly organizing these books in a very meticulous fashion that my brain can’t comprehend at the moment. Eventually, I break the silence.
“You’re not Ms. Rose.”
It takes her so long to respond that I start to think she’s not going to. She starts slipping used due date cards out of the back pockets of the books and replacing them with fresh ones. She does it so fast that I wonder how she doesn’t get a paper cut. I find myself getting so mesmerized by the action that I almost don’t hear when she speaks.
“You’re correct,” she says.
Not sure what to say to that, I tilt my head at her. She glances up, making purposeful eye contact with me for this first time.
“Sorry, did you want a gold star or something?” she asks.
I scoff out a laugh. “Um, no thanks. But if you could tell me where Ms. Rose is, that would be great.”
She suddenly scoops up a stack of books and whips around the counter, making a beeline for the bookshelves. I’m not sure why, but my feet automatically start to follow her.
“She’s not here,” she says over her shoulder without looking at me.
“Well, do you know when she’ll be back?” I ask.
“Not until tomorrow,” she says, weaving through the bookshelves and returning books to their rightful spots without so much as a second glance at where she’s putting them. “She had to leave early today to pick up her grandson. He’s sick.”
“Oh,” I say, stopping at the same time as she does to reorganize a particularly messy shelf. I put my hands on my hips. “Well, I sort of need to see her today.”
In a matter of seconds, she’s off again, heading back to the front counter. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” she says. “Guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well, the thing is,” I say, placing my hands on the counter as she gets back to work flipping through books, “I really can’t.”
“Yeah, well,” she responds, not meeting my eyes as she does so, “as difficult as I’m sure patience and understanding are for you, you’re just going to have to practice some for all of one day. I promise you’ll survive.”
My mouth falls open, but before I can say anything, she’s slipping into Ms. Rose’s office behind the counter with an armful of books.
“What the…?” I mutter to myself out loud.
I start to turn to leave but stop myself.
Yeah, no.
