Page 8 of Love and the Library
Friday nights, I tend to meet up with some friends and go out to a bar or maybe scan a dating app to see if anyone piques my interest and is up for a last-minute date. For some reason, this Friday, I’m walking through the library’s doors because one time, a few months ago, I thought I might have seen Shorty headed here on a Friday evening.
Even though I didn’t let my hopes get too high, they still take a plummet when The Spot is empty for a third day in a row.
As I head back out into the cool night, I realize that other than winter and spring break, this is the longest I’ve gone without seeing Shorty since the beginning of my junior year. And for some odd reason, that worries me.
Did something happen to her? Is she sick?
I don’t even know her real name, so it’s not like I can ask around.
Pulling out my phone, I text some buddies about meeting up. All the while, in the back of my mind, an annoying thought scratches at me.
If this is how she’s making me pay, it’s too high a cost.
7
HANNAH
Wearingshorts today is pushing it. The clouds are out in full force, meaning the air doesn’t have the nice warmth it’s been teasing me with the past few weeks. But I just got back from visiting my family in New York and after dealing with Rochester cold, the idea of putting on pants this morning made me want to cry. So, I compromised by tugging on a sweatshirt over my cropped tee.
Besides, with the fast pace I’m setting for myself, I’ll be warm in no time. And then I’ll be comfy in no time because, today, I’m getting The Chair.
I’m sure of it.
At least, I am until I glance to the side and see my nemesis on a path across the quad. Lucifer strolls along with a couple of guys, laughing at something one of them said. The large, grassy expanse separates us, but somehow, he senses my gaze and turns to lock eyes with me.
We both freeze.
His body is facing the same direction mine is—toward the library. In a twisted act of fate, we are almost the exact same distance from our destination.
As we reach this conclusion at the same moment, it’s like a starting gun fires off for only the two of us to hear.
Screw power-walking.
I sprint.
As if this were meant to be an obstacle course rather than a straightforward race, there’s suddenly an insane amount of people to dodge around. I dart and sidestep the pedestrians until I come upon the mammoth of hurdles—a pack of sorority girls.
“Move!”
They gasp and glare at me as I bolt through the gaggle of them. Good thing I’m not planning on pledging.
I track Lucifer out of the corner of my eye. He’s running just as fast as me, his friends abandoned, his bag slapping against his leg as he sprints. Instead of following the curving paved path, I make myself a shortcut by vaulting over a bench. My landing is marred by a brief stumble that I quickly recover from, but it’s enough to give him the advantage.
Ten feet in front of me, he whips open the glass doors and disappears inside.
Some people might give up at this point. But the race isn’t won until there’s a butt in The Chair.
When I slide through the front door, a crow of triumph wrenches out of my throat at the sight of him waiting at the elevator.
Lucifer’s jaw goes slack as I blaze past him, my eyes on the entrance to the stairs. His heavy footsteps pound behind me, the short lead I gained disappearing.
In the stairwell, our panting breaths echo off the cement walls. I use the railing to pull myself up the steps faster, but there’s something to be said about having a few extra inches on each leg. My competition is able to mount two steps at a time, quickly catching up to me.
I throw out an arm, as if I could stop him, but he tosses a grin over his shoulder as he easily brushes past me.
Damn him.
We’re at the third-floor landing, and he’s two steps in front of me, reaching for the door, pausing for less than half a second to swing it open. My frustration pours a last bit of turbo fuel into my muscles, and in a desperate move, I crouch before launching myself at my nemesis.