The Truth About Being Young

Chapter 2

I tap my fingers against the wooden table of the library to direct my attention away from the parky feeling that leaves me a shivering mess. The library is the coldest part of the entire school, and even though I'm already sitting at the farthest table away from all the air conditioners, my thick knit sweater felt thin.

During the past years of being partnered with Speer at assignments or projects, we always meet at the library after class. Today though isn't looking quite well.

It's already five thirty in the afternoon, as the wall clock hanging up the librarian's head says. I've been here since four, and if Speer doesn't arrive in five minutes, then I'm leaving.

Five minutes actually arrived quickly, and before the librarian could reprimand that I shouldn't be slamming chairs, I was out of the library and going to the direction of the boys' hall.

The receptionist at the front desk raises a dark brow at me.

We have mutual understanding, the receptionist and I. I hate her because the boys get to have the newly furnished hall with a receptionist, and obviously, she hates me because I'm a fellow woman trying to enter her territory.

"Are you expected?"

Of course I'm not, but that's the idiotic answer.

"Yes. By Speer. Castiel Speer."

She smiles sweetly, but her eyes are narrowed. "I will just call Mr. Speer to confirm it."

If other boarding schools had numpty sods as their hall coordinator, Gaiman Norse has bints of a receptionist.

"Your name?"

"Lizzy Demarchelier."

As she talks to Speer, I sat down on the settee at the farthest part of the room, rubbing my hands against the soft pillows. It really was unfair for the boys to get all the comfort while the girls get wooden everything.

"Mr. Speer says that he'll be coming down for you." The receptionist shouts from her nook.

I nod in understanding and went on observing the entrance to this much too posh hall. One wouldn't think that the boys are the ones who actually occupy this hall.

I've been here a few times with Lou Anne, but I can see many differences from the past years. Like the receptionist or the bowl of pastilles on the receptionist's desk , or the poncy fairy lights hanged on the wall blinking in red and yellow.

"Why don't you stop getting jealous of my hall's furniture and help me with this?"

Standing there outside the new-looking lifts (while the girls' hall's lift break downs every hour) is Speer with a brown box by his foot and an iPod on his hand.

I stand-up from the settee and made my way to Speer who is fiddling with his iPod.

"I'm not apologising for not seeing you at the library," He then looks up at me, "I'll have you know that I already did my part for the project."

He gestured to the box, and I raised a brow at him, "What, you expect me to carry it for you?" Blue eyes rolled, and with a sigh, he places his iPod on his pants' pocket and picked up the box.

"I guess your ickle hands can't handle a single box." We walked side by side back to the settee, where he places the box between us. With a puff of breath, he says, "I got every movie I own that is about or related to the word young, so enjoy rummaging. I even created a playlist. There are some books I borrowed from my hall mates too."

I opened the lid of the box and saw stacks of Blu-Ray DVDs piled after one another. I picked up the DVD at the top and held it up, "Breaking Dawn? What is the relation of young there?"