by Julia Hoban
Bonus points!Willow can’t help smirking. She knows that she must look extra-conscientious, sitting there, scribbling away . . .
Fine. Enough of that. She slams her notebook shut and shoves it into her backpack. She’s managed to get through a school day without embarrassing herself.
Well, that’s something.
Willow heads toward the double doors along with everyone else. Time for her stint at the library. In her hurry to leave she collides with another girl, who’s headed in the opposite direction.
“I’m sorry,” Willow apologizes as they both attempt to untangle themselves.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Listen, can I ask you something?”
Willow looks at her warily. What could this girl, this complete stranger, possibly want to ask her?
Maybe she just wants to know the easiest way to kill your parents, or else she’s looking for the best price on kittens.
“I just need . . . If you could help me out . . .” the girl continues, somewhat impatiently. “I’m—”
“Excuse me?” Willow interrupts, completely startled by the request. The idea that anyone would look to her for help is so novel, so alluring, that it stops her cold.
“I’m kind of lost. I’m new here, and I’m supposed to meet . . . Look, you know your way around. Could you tell me where the library is?”
I know my way around?
Well, I do know where the library is. . . .
Should she just take her there? It might be uncomfortable, but wouldn’t it be more uncomfortable to point her in the right direction and then walk five yards ahead of her the whole way?
Maybe going up together would be okay. After all, this girl doesn’t know anything about her, not even that she’s new too. And more than that, she has invested Willow with an aura of competence that is irresistible.
“Yeah, I’m actually headed that way myself. C’mon,” Willow says after a few moments. She starts moving toward the exit again, the other girl in tow.
Maybe I should ask her what she’s going up there for, we could—“The library’s in another building?”
“Huh?”
“How come we’re outside? Where’s the library?” The girl sounds highly irritated, and the expression on her face is distinctly less friendly than it was a minute ago.
“You looking for the library?” A really cute guy ambles over, clearly interested in Willow’s companion. “It’s back in there,” he says, nodding at the building.
“Thanks. I didn’t think it could be outside.” The two of them stare at Willow.
Oh my God! Of course! She didn’t meanthat library!
Willow can’t believe that she made such a stupid mistake. When she heard library,she just assumed . . .
“I . . . Look, I thought you meant the one . . . I work at the university library, and I just . . .”
“You’re a librarian?” the guy asks. It’s obvious that he doesn’t mean this as a compliment, and the girl giggles a little. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” he says to her. Willow watches as the guy holds the door open.
So much for getting through the day without embarrassing myself!
“Hey, Willow!”
What now?
She turns and sees Guy standing near where the bikes are chained, Laurie by his side.
Willow nods cautiously. She’s a little unsettled by what just happened, and she fervently hopes that Guy and Laurie didn’t catch what was going on. She wonders if that’s why he’s calling her over. And what’s he doing with Laurie? She shouldn’t be so surprised that they know each other—they’re both seniors and it’s a small school. But it makes her nervous. Maybe the two of them are having a little talk about her kitten fetish, maybe they’re talking about something worse. Is Laurie his girlfriend or something?
Not that Willow cares about that.
“Are you going to the library?” Guy calls out.
Is this some kind of joke?
“Which one?” Willow asks as she makes her way over to them.
“The university one,” Guy says easily. “Walk you there? Laurie’s headed that way too. You guys know each other, right?”
“Sure.” Laurie nods.
Willow gives her a sideways glance. The other girl looks friendly, a little bored maybe, but nothing beyond that.
Still, are things as innocent as they seem? How does she know that the two of them haven’t pooled information, shared stories maybe?
Willow feels terribly tense. She doesn’t know why Guy wants to walk her to campus. Sure, she was hoping to talk to him again, but she’s not going to do it now. Not with an audience.
“All right,” she says after a few moments. She looks at the bike rack, once again wishing that she still had her own. If it were chained up there, it would give her the perfect excuse not to join them, but as it is, she can’t see any way of getting out of going with them. Sweat trickles down her back.
“I didn’t know you worked up at the library,” Laurie says as they fall into step together. She fishes in her backpack for a pair of sunglasses. “That’s a great gig, how did you get it? I thought you had to be in the college. I mean, you must have some pull or something to get special treatment like that. . . .”
Pull? Not quite. After I killed my parents the school relaxed the rules a little. Kind of like a consolation prize.
“Oh hey, I almost forgot,” Guy interrupts her—he’s smooth, but it’s still a little jarring, and Laurie looks surprised. “I’m not going to be in history tomorrow,” he continues. “Could you get the notes for me?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Laurie shrugs.
“Thanks,” Guy says. “I really appreciate it.”
Willow isn’t sure what just happened. Did she imagine it or did Guy just come to her rescue? Did he stop Laurie from asking painful questions?
“So.” Willow clears her throat. “How come you guys are going uptown?” She’s pleased at how that sounds. A little on the dull side, sure, but a real improvement over kittens.
“I’m trying to find out about an internship,” Laurie says as they cross the street and head into the park. “I’d rather get a regular job or something, for the money. But an internship at a college? It’s like the finishing touch that I need on my record.”
“I have to do some research in the library,” Guy says. “Plus I need to return Tristes.”
“Oh, God, are you still hung up on that moldy old book?” Laurie shakes her head. “You’re obsessed!”
“But it’s a great book!” Willow exclaims. She’s a little surprised by the intensity of her outburst, and judging by the look on her face, Laurie is too, but Guy smiles.
“Oh, you know it?” Laurie adjusts her sunglasses. “I didn’t think it was that famous. I mean, Guy’s into all these obscure books that no one else has ever heard of. Like, why? But I guess you’re into all that stuff too, huh? What is it again, anthropology?”
“I . . . Yes,” Willow says faintly. She’s glad to see that there are only a few blocks left until they get to campus. Things aren’t going as badly as they did the other day, but trying to keep up without saying or doing anything stupid, well, it’s a strain.
“Those are the kind of things that really make you stand out on your transcripts though,” Laurie continues thoughtfully. “You know, reading all that stuff that isn’t required.”
Willow can’t help finding this a little funny. She’s sure that to Laurie, anthropology is nothing more than a way to spice up your resume.
“I mean classes in anthropology,” Laurie goes on as if she can read Willow’s mind. “That’s pretty inventive.”
Willow wonders what her father would have made of such a remark.
She wants to change the subject, but how? She can’t think of anything that would be either appropriate or interesting. Maybe she should just say something nasty. Tell the other girl she finds her boring. Or better yet, frighten her with stories of people with perfect SATs who didn’t even get into their safety schools
. . . .
That would do the trick.
But Willow doesn’t want to be mean. She only wants Laurie to talk about something different.
“What made you even think of taking it up?” Laurie asks, glancing over at Willow. “I mean, how did you even get interested in the subject?” If she notices that Willow is looking somewhat desperate, it fails to register. “Did someone tell—”
But Guy interrupts suddenly. Even more abruptly than the last time.
“Oh who cares?” He sounds bored. “Let’s talk about something else. So what’s this internship about anyway?” he asks as they leave the park.
Willow is impressed by how deftly Guy manages to change the subject. At how easily he saves her from saying something she would regret. It’s the second time that he’s come to her rescue just as things were starting to get uncomfortable.
He couldn’t possibly be that considerate, could he? That kind? After all, she’s nothing but a burden to him, she’s just someone who’s gotten in the way of his having a great semester.
Willow remembers the way that he bandaged her arm.
Without thinking she reaches out and touches his sleeve—just barely. He’d miss it he weren’t looking directly at her. Guy seems confused for a moment. It’s clear that he doesn’t know what to make of the gesture, but after a second he gives her a small smile. Willow notices that Laurie is watching them and quickly drops her hand.
“Well, there are two different internships.” If Laurie thinks it’s strange that Willow touched Guy, she’s not letting on. “One’s helping out at the women’s health center, which I’m sort of into, and the other is doing some pretty simple research for this comp lit professor. It’s really basic stuff, he’d never give the job to someone in high school otherwise. He might be able to give me a good recommendation, though, and that’s something, you know?”
“Well, sure.” Willow tries to focus on what Laurie is saying.
So maybe she asks a lot of awkward questions, but still, Willow is grateful to the other girl for not mentioning the episode in the garden the other day. The least she can do in return is to pay attention to what she’s saying.
“That makes total sense,” Willow continues. “Because I know that—”
“Hey!” This time Laurie is the one doing the interrupting. “Look at that!” She grabs Willow’s arm, really grabs her—right where the bandage is—and drags her over to a drugstore window display.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Laurie presses her face against the window. “That’s the color I’m thinking of. Isn’t it fabulous?” She takes off her sunglasses and waves them at a pyramid made out of boxes and boxes of hair color.
“Sure is,” Willow murmurs. Her attention is riveted too. But not by the boxes of Auburn Flame. Willow is far more interested in the sign just off to the left. The one announcing a sale on stationery supplies.
That’s a great price on razor blades.
Is it her imagination, or is Guy looking at her strangely?
Willow shifts her focus to the boxes of Auburn Flame. “I think you’d look amazing in that color,” she says with perfect sincerity.
“Thanks.” Laurie looks pleased by the compliment.
“Adrian wants you to be a redhead?” Guy asks.
“The only thing he really cares about is that we both get into the same school,” Laurie says, putting her glasses back on. “I mean, he’s so focused on other things right now, he probably won’t even notice if I go red.” She steps away from the window.
“Adrian?” Willow asks casually as they walk through the campus gates.
“My boyfriend.” Laurie smiles.
“You met him, Willow,” Guy interjects. “Remember, with me, up on campus?”
“Oh, that was your boyfriend?” Willow thinks about this for a moment. “Well, this is where I get off,” she says as they pass the marble steps leading to the library.
“Yeah, me too.” Guy stops walking. “So Laurie, listen, thanks for covering me in history. I’ll catch up with you after tomorrow, okay?”
“Great.” Laurie nods to both of them and walks off, leaving them alone.
“Good luck with the internships,” Willow calls after her. “I’d better hurry,” she says, turning to face Guy. Her eyes don’t quite meet his. She’s feeling somewhat conflicted: The way Guy seemed to be looking out for her has confused her. She’s grateful, but . . .
She’d have to be made of stone not to be touched by his concern, and yet—and yet—he has complete power over her. He could smash her world to smithereens if he chose, and that frightens her. “I’ll be late for work.” She starts up the steps.
“I called your brother.”
Willow freezes. She turns back to Guy, a look of pure terror on her face.
“Relax,” Guy says. He leans against the balustrade, his arms crossed in front of him. He certainly looks calm. “I kept my promise. I didn’t tell him anything, I just asked when you’d be working. I wanted to make sure I saw you today. You and I, we have some things to talk over.”
So that’swhy he wanted to walk with her. She should have figured that he would want to talk to her too. It can’t be every day that he finds himself in a situation like this. Still, Willow can’t help feeling nervous at the thought of what he might have to say to her. Her heart is beating nineteen to the dozen as she sinks down on the steps, oblivious to the students rushing past them.
“You okay?” Guy asks. He looks worried suddenly. He looks like he did when he saw her cuts, and now that she studies him more closely, Willow can see that his carefree demeanor is just an act. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is disheveled. Odd that she didn’t notice any of this on the walk. All in all he looks a lot less together than she realized.
“Stupid question.” He laughs as he moves closer. “The last thing you are is okay.”
Willow doesn’t say anything, but she notices that in spite of his unkempt appearance his breath is sweet, like apples.
“Why . . . Well . . . I mean—why didn’tyou tell him?” she manages to stammer.
“Because I promised you that I wouldn’t tell,” Guy says simply. “But that doesn’t mean that I still don’t think I should. Or even that I won’t. We have to talk, figure out some ground rules.” He reaches out a hand and hauls her to her feet. “C’mon, tell the Hamilton witch I need help in the stacks. We can have privacy there.” He propels her into the building, past the security guard.
Willow smiles a little at his description of Miss Hamilton, but, as it turns out, she isn’t at the desk. Willow signs in and says hello to the clerk on duty before turning back to Guy.
“Now what?” She sighs. She knows what he wants to talk about, it’s the last thing she feels like doing, but she doesn’t see any way of getting out of it. After all, he holds all the cards.
“The stacks,” Guy says decisively. “In fact, you can actually help me out.” He shows her a piece of paper scrawled all over with call numbers. “I have some research I need to do.”
Willow glances at the call numbers. Even if she hadn’t been working in the library for the past few weeks she would have known which floor to go to. She hadn’t spent all those hundreds of afternoons rooting through the stacks with her father for nothing. She knows that the books Guy wants are all going to be anthropology texts, and she knows what she’s going to find when she goes up there.
“Okay,” she says after a long moment. They head back toward the elevator. “This stuff is on the top floor.”
“So,” Guy says as they walk into the dimly lit stacks. “Why don’t we get my stuff first, then we can talk about . . . well . . . you know . . .” He stops speaking for a second, and Willow can see that he’s just as uncomfortable as she is. “We can talk about what’s going on with you,” he continues. “What we can do about it.”
Oh, please.
Willow thinks that he sounds like one of those people you hear interviewed on afternoon television. The kind
that come out with books promising self-esteem in ten easy steps.
“We don’t have to do anything about it,” she says.
“Oh yeah?” Guy raises his eyebrows as he follows her down the narrow aisles. “Sorry, but that wasn’t the deal. If I’m not going to tell your brother, then you’re going to have to promise me some things. You don’t just get to waltz across my path, totally screw with my head, and have everything your way. It doesn’t work like that.”
“All right.” She shrugs. She really doesn’t have a choice. “Let’s just get your books first, okay?” Willow stops in front of a dusty shelving unit, pulls some volumes out, and hands them to Guy.
She pauses for a second before reaching for the next one on his list. She feels dizzy. All of a sudden it’s too warm. Her skin is starting to itch, but there’s nothing she can do about that. Willow takes a few deep breaths, anything to calm herself, but it’s useless, why is she even bothering? Forget it,she thinks as she holds on to the edge of the shelf to steady herself. Just hand him the stupid thing already.
“Here,” she says in a brusque voice. She grabs the book, a monograph her father had written about five years ago. Willow remembers it well. The whole family had gone to Guatemala, where her father had done fieldwork. “Here,” she repeats as she holds it out to Guy. But Guy is busy juggling the other books she’s handed him and he doesn’t accept it right away. “Will you just take it?” Willow is angry suddenly and she throws the slim volume at him, not caring whether she hits him or not.
“Hey, watch what you’re doing.” Guy tries to catch the book, but instead ends up dropping everything else. “What’s up with you anyway?” he mutters as he bends down.
“Look, you practically broke the spine on this one.” He’s obviously upset. Willow watches him as he carefully turns the book over in his hands. Once again she thinks of the way his hands felt as they bandaged her the day before. He handles the book in the same gentle way. It’s clear that he doesn’t like destruction of any kind, flesh or paper.
“You shouldn’t treat books that way,” Guy lectures, but she can’t hold it against him. She knows her father would have been appalled if he’d seen what she’d done. “I mean, this is a first edition,” Guy continues. “Why would you want to . . . ” His voice trails off as he picks up her father’s book. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment.
