Where our hearts meet

Chapter One

Chapter One

My faded black sneakers squeak across the white tiled floors as I run across the emptying hallways. My books bounce in my grip as I try and keep them balanced while rushing past the blue lockers that line the walls. I don't notice the large dent on one of them with a red smear on it. Or the sound of arguing that floats out the principal's office. I've tuned everything out; something that I'm very good at due to our loud neighbors.

I've reached the quite corner of my school now and as I turn round a corner I slow down to a fast walking pace. Pushing the French glass door open, I'm greeted by the scent of lavender and lilies mixing with the vague musky smell of books. I walk to the front desk, dropping my bag against the cotton beige flooring. Valdez is nowhere to be seen. "Valdez!" I call out, breaking the number rule of all libraries. But its' empty now and in the vast room, looking for a woman like Valdez is like trying to get out of a labyrinth.

"Here," rings out her voice. I follow it to the storage room at the back of the library. She's standing amidst a pile of boxes, staked on top of each other. Her maroon long flowery skirt, skims the top of her black sensible heeled shoes and she's wearing a white chemise to match. "Come hither child, I've just received the new orders."

Moving forward I lean over her short frame and peer into the box. I recognize a few names: Maggie Stiefvater, John Green, Alyson Noël, Cassandra Clare and Nicholas Sparks. "Nice choices," I remark. "When do they go out?"

"If I can get lazy Stephan to do any work, by the end of the week."

I nod in agreement. All Stephan, Valdez's assistant, did was sleep on the job. "Cool, save the Stiefvater one for me though," I point to the blue and white cover of the book Shiver. I've heard so many great reviews about it but I actually haven't read it yet.

Valdez nods. "I've got the next and third one too."

"Great," I say as the both exit the small room. We walk back to the main desk, where Valdez hands me the small metal cart and logs in my community service. "Do I start with the fiction or nonfiction?' I question out loud looking thoughtfully at the half full cart.

"Non-fiction," says Valdez. I might take longer but I agree with her. Those math geeks will in here any minute now, wanting their daily dose of integrated mathematics.

I sigh pushing the cart into the vast direction of the Non-fiction section. Pausing, I slip my phone out and plug in my earphones. The voice of the melodious Birdy fills my ears. Getting back to work I push the cart past the mauve wallpaper and hurry to complete the task.

I've been coming to the library for two years now, since I was a freshman on the first day of school, and I could never get over how big it was. It's a two storey structure with the bottom part being the actual library and the top half dedicated to computers and recreation activities such as chess.

The walls were lined with a pretty flowered mauve and white wallpaper and thrown cream and claret couches for a comfortable place to read. Various species of green plants were thrown attractively all over the place. The library also had a great view of the pitch and to highlight this one whole wall facing the pitch was made of glass. A balcony also was outside, made of shiny metal frames.

Only a school with tons of money could afford this and Willowcrest Academy fitted into that category. The school was filled either with the filthy rich or gifted brains rarely both traits; I unfortunately fitted into the ner division.

Tapping my fingertips to the beat of the song, I mouthed the words, while placing the last non-fiction book into it's' position.

Gripping the cool handles of the cart I move to the fiction side. Moving more quickly now, I'm just finishing up with the letter D when a soft hand clamps down on my shoulder. I spin around, yanking my earphones out my ears will doing so. "Valdez? What's going on?"

She shakes her head softly and gestures with her eyebrow to some standing a few feet behind her. Mr. Abbot stands grim sharp expression on his face. His steel grey eyes trained on me. "Ms Montgomery, I apologize for this brief interruption, but I have a favor to ask of you."

I nod, slowly pocketing my phone, in the hopes he didn't notice it (more like I was hoping he was blind). "Sure, sir"

"Your fellow classmate Zachary Anderson will be joining you here for community service."

What and who is this man blabbering about. Zachary Anderson, who the hell is he? And why the hell is he joining the community service program here in the library. No one does that accept me.

My confusion must have been present on my face but Mr. Abbot took it a different way.

"He will be you joining here as a punishment and I trust you Ms Montgomery to educate him on what to do."

Great, now I have to look after a delusional delinquent, God how worse can this day get. "Sure, I can," I say, hiding my distaste.

"Good, he will be starting tomorrow. I still have some matters to conclude with him."

I nod, my feet rubbing into the carpeting as I try and remember if I've ever met an Anderson in this school. Nope, nada, no. A blank page is an accurate representation of my mind on that topic.

Mr. Abbott nods and bids me farewell, before disappearing behind the enormous maze made of wood, paper and plastic.

I turn around and give Valdez a look. "Zachary Anderson. You've got to be kidding me!"

Valdez shrugs her gentle slopping shoulders, her frames falling down the bridge of her nose. "I don't know anything. I'm only doing this because he signs my check every month."

My laughter floats into the air, drowned by the thud of feet marching against the carpet and the flicker of biros against paper.

Whoever this Zachary is, time will prove to tell.

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