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CHAPTER 3
I stayed as flat against the wall as possible. Maybe
the person wouldn't see me. No, that was unlikely, considering that seconds
before I had been banging on the wall and pulling the chains on the door. I
might as well have been screaming, I'm
trapped in a library all alone and am desperate to get out!
What was my plan now? I could run somewhere. Lock
myself in a room. Though as far as I knew all the rooms that had locks were
already locking me out. Just when I was about to run somewhere, anywhere,
to find a weapon or somewhere to hide, he spoke.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I didn't know anyone
else was here." He held up his hands and then, as if just now
realizing he held a knife in one, he bent down and tucked it into his boot.
That didn't make me feel much better. "What are
you doing here?"
"Just needed a place to stay."
Great. I was trapped in the library with a homeless
guy? A homeless guy with a knife. My heart was in my throat.
I could tell he was trying to talk in a calm voice, but
it came out scratchy. "Let's sit somewhere and talk. I'm going to get
my bag. I left it at the top of the stairs. And then I'm going to come
down. Okay?" His hands were still raised in front of him, like that
action should make me feel perfectly at ease. "Don't call anyone until
we talk." He thought I was going to call someone? If I had access to a
phone, I wouldn't be here. If I had access to any communication device—a
bullhorn, a Morse code machine—do those machines have names?—I wouldn't be
here. But I wasn't going to give away my hand.
"Okay," I said.
The second he left me alone, I ran back down the stairs
and past the glass doors. If he was armed, I wanted to be too.
I tucked myself behind a shelf in the back stacks. My
breath was heavy and uneven and I couldn't see a thing. I reached in front
of me and grabbed the biggest book I could find. Worst-case scenario, I
could hit him over the head with it.
"Hello?" he said from across the room.
"Don't come any closer."
"Where are you?"
"It doesn't matter. You want to talk? Talk."
If I acted tough, maybe he'd think I was.
His voice became louder, clearer, so he must've been
walking toward me. "There's no reason to be scared of me."
Why couldn't he just stay across the room? We didn't
have to be within spitting distance to talk.
As I went to take a step back, my knee hit the shelf
and one book and then another slid to the ground with a thud. I tightened
my grip on the book I held and took off for the door. He was faster,
though, and cut me off. I held the book over my head.
"Stop," I said.
He took a step closer. I threw the book at him. He
dodged it. I picked up another from a nearby shelf and threw it. It hit his
shoulder.
He held his hands over his head. "Really?"
"I already called the cops," I said.
He cussed.
I threw another book. "So just leave me alone.
They'll be here any second."
We were closer now, one of the lamps I'd turned on
earlier glowing to our right. That's when I realized I recognized him.
I gasped. "Dax?"
"Do I know you?"
I must've still been in the shadows.
In relief, I lowered the book I held. Dax Miller
wouldn't have been my first choice of guys I'd want to be locked in a
library with. In fact, if I could choose any guy from my high school, he
probably would've been the last. His reputation wasn't exactly stellar.
There were stories about him. Lots of stories. But he wasn't a stranger.
And I wasn't scared of him, so I immediately relaxed. "You go to my
school."
I wasn't sure he knew me like most people at school
did. I was on yearbook and was constantly snapping pictures so I was
everywhere all the time. It was hard not to be well known when I had to be
involved in so many events. But I'd never taken his picture. He wasn't
involved in anything. Well, at least not anything school-sponsored.
I took a small step forward, into the soft glow of
lamplight, so he could see me more clearly.
Recognition crossed his face as he took me in, from my
shoulder-length light-brown hair to my black wedge boots, then back up to
my eyes. He didn't seem to like what he saw. "Did you really call the
cops?"
"No." I ran my hands over my pockets. "I
don't have a phone."
His eyes skimmed over my pockets as if he didn't
believe me, then he nodded once and headed toward the bag he'd dropped next
to a chair.
I followed after him. "Do you?"
"Do I what?" He unzipped his bag.
"Have a phone."
"No, I don't."
I stared at his bag, not sure he was telling the truth.
"I just need to call my parents. They're probably worried sick about
me. Nobody knows where I am." At least that's what I was assuming
since nobody had come back. "I would just use it to tell them where I
am."
He pulled a sleeping bag from his duffel and spread it
on the f loor. "I don't have a phone."
He brought a sleeping bag to the library? He wasn't
trapped here like me. He'd planned on staying all along? "But you're
not homeless," I said.
"I never said I was."
"Why are you here?" I asked.
He crawled into his sleeping bag and then reached up
and turned out the light.
"Why were you worried about me calling the cops
anyway? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"Can you keep it down? I'm trying to sleep."
If my whole body didn't feel like Jell-O I might've
kicked him, but instead I stumbled to a chair, sat down, and put my head on
my knees. This shouldn't have surprised me. Dax was secretive at school, a
loner—why would I expect him to tell me his life story now?
It didn't matter. It was fine. I'd be fine. At least
I'd established Dax wasn't trying to kill me or hurt me. Even though Dax
was . . . well, Dax . . . it was better not being trapped here alone. And
he had to have a phone in that big bag of his. He'd brought a sleeping bag,
after all. When he went to sleep, I'd look through his stuff and find it.
Now that I had a game plan I felt much better.
My chest slowly relaxed, relieving my burning lungs.
This was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to me. It might even be
a funny story later. Much later, when I was home with my parents and in my
own bed with my nice warm comforter.
It was cold in here.
I stretched and then laid my head on the arm of the
chair, pretending to go to sleep. I wasn't sure if he could see me or if he
was even watching, but I wanted him to think I was sleeping. Then, when I
was sure he was out, I'd find his phone, call home, and this would all be
over.
The clock on the wall read 3:20. My eyes ached from
being awake for so long. I wondered what my friends were doing. What Jeff
was doing. I'd known Jeff since freshman year, liked him since junior year,
and now, in my senior year, had decided it was now or never. We'd both be
going away to school the following year, and before we left I'd wanted to
see if the tension that hummed beneath the surface whenever he was around would
translate into a good relationship.
Had it only been that morning when he'd stopped me in
the hall at school? My mind replayed the exchange.
"Autumn!"
I turned, camera in hand, and snapped his picture. He
was easy to photograph, his features soft, open, friendly. His smile lit up
his whole face, made his green eyes sparkle and his olive skin glow.
He caught up with me. "You might have more
pictures of me than my parents."
I probably did. "I can't help that the camera
loves you."
"Is the camera asking me out on a date?"
"This camera goes nowhere without me."
He raised his eyebrows like he wanted me to follow
through with what I was implying. I wanted to ask him out. So bad. But if I
had to be the one doing the asking, it wasn't going to be in the middle of
a crowded school hallway.
He went on. "So I was thinking about getting a
group together to go to the library tonight and work on that history paper
Mr. Garcia assigned. You in?"
I probably should've said no, but when offered extra
time to hang out with Jeff, I always tried to make it work. "Yeah . .
. I want to. I'll have to talk to Lisa. We're going up to the cabin with
Morgan and Avi."
"Let's go before that, and then on your way up to
the cabin we can stop at a campground and have a bonfire to celebrate
finishing our papers."
I laughed and pushed lightly on his shoulder. "You
have this all planned out."
"I do. So, you can work on the girls?"
"Yes. I'll make it happen."
"I knew you would. I'll ask Dallin and the guys.
See you tonight."
And he saw me, before he left me locked in a library.
If Jeff and I had been trapped here in this library instead of Dax and me .
. . that would've been fun. He would've already figured out how to slide
down the wooden stairs or race the book carts down the hall. Jeff was the
exact opposite of Dax. Jeff smiled easily and joked often, and when he was
around everyone was always laughing. Dax was dark and serious and seemed to
weigh down any situation.
Jeff. Where was he? Had something bad happened?
Did he think I ditched out on him at the bonfire? Why
didn't anyone realize I was gone? It didn't matter. Soon I'd have a way to
let everyone know where I was. Soon I'd have a phone.
Copyright © 2017 by Kasie West
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