Me, Me & You

Chapter 13

I zoned out for the rest of the day and daydreamed about silly things like making out with a nice boy or inserting myself (yeah, I know) into the latest novel I was reading, Rebecca. I fantasized I found someone like Maxim, older and experienced, who lived in a giant mansion, especially one that wasn't in Iowa. Maybe the residence could be on its own island, someplace steeped in history like the northeast.

"What are you doing here?" a voice asked me.

I blinked rapidly.

"Huh?" I tried to look at the person, but my eyesight was blurry and slow like a bad internet connection.

"School's over. Students have to vacate the premises unless they are part of an after-school activity."

My eyes could focus if I concentrated really hard, but I could only take in one feature at a time. A receding hairline... glasses... receding hairline... It was a teacher... right? Which teacher?

"What are you doing?" The teacher asked, annoyed and suspicious.

Running, I was about to say, but that wasn't right. My parents won't allow me to run.

"I-I was supposed... I was supposed to..." That's right. I was supposed to be doing something important. "Library," I found my mouth forming words for me. "I'm going to the library."

The teacher said something but the words were garbled and murky. I nodded, pretending I understood, and started walking to the library.

As I walked, I watched the tops of my feet, trying to avoid stepping on cracks, pretending that the square floor tiles were stepping stones.

Library.

Something about the library.

Essay.

Printing something for an essay. In the library.

I froze, my foot about to step on a crack, and realization struck.

"Last day to print things for the essay." I instinctively reached for a purse that wasn't with me. Crap. What did I do with my purse? I always carried it. Please don't tell me I left it in a classroom. Granted, my wallet held almost no money, but my phone had some value. Panic awakened and enlivened my senses. I pivoted and dashed down the empty halls, heading toward my locker.

My fingers twisted the dial with muscle memory. I clicked the latch.

"Oh, thank god."

My purse hung from one of the hooks inside. Reaching in, I lifted it off the wall to find it was extremely heavy. Like I'd stowed a bowling ball in there. I lowered it to the ground and unzipped the top. With a gasp, I opened the mouth of my purse to reveal a flash of silver. Tons and tons of quarters. There had to be thirty dollars worth in here!

"Archie...." I admonished and zipped the purse back up.

I couldn't take this! It wasn't my money!

Or could I? After all, how was I supposed to return a bunch of coins without getting either me or Archie in trouble? Walk up to a random teacher and say, "Sorry! My bad!"?

I really needed this money to print out all my sources.

In a way, this makes me and the school even.

A teacher accused me of plagiarism and forced me to print all the evidence, which costs money–money per page that they set the prices for. Talk about a scam. Now, Archie the Quarter Fairy, reclaimed my stolen money. You can't steal what was yours to begin with, right?

My grades were already crap, and remedial math looks terrible on a transcript. If I got a zero on this essay, my entire GPA would drop below a 3.0. There were only a few essays each semester and they accounted for most of our grade, which means every essay counts. Worse, wouldn't plagiarism be on my transcript if I failed to provide evidence? I'd never be able to leave this place, get a good job, and make something of myself.

Stealing would go on my transcript, too.

But nobody saw. Nobody knew but Archie.

You do whatever it takes to survive. Nobody cares about anyone but themselves.

Except Archie. He cared.

I thought back to when the Trio first started in on me, how I thought Archie neglected my feelings and how I wished he would defend me. All I wanted was a knight in shining armor, and Archie, knowing me better than myself, helped in his own way. If anything happened to him...

With my purse clutched against my body to mask the noise of coins shifting, I entered the school's library.

The library was enormous for a school of this size. Despite this, the books collection occupied only ten shelves, mostly nonfiction books from the 70's or 80's. The rest of the space was dedicated to tables for group work or study. I was never sure how anyone found time to use the library, even if they wanted to use the space. We weren't allowed to go here during study hall, most sources were virtual now, and kids took the bus after school, rendering most of its services useless. The only populated area was the computer lab, located on the second floor's mezzanine. Without the buzz coming from above, the library would be tomb-like.

I climbed the sweeping staircase to the top. Apparently, the school hosted a coding club here, which accounted for nearly all the activity. The programmers occupied the front rows where the club's coach projected his screen against the wall and lectured about proper formatting.

One of the few computers available was by a kid that smelled faintly of garlic who was playing what looked like solitaire on crack. I normally would move, but it would've been obvious and rude.

All of the things I needed were ready to print. I just had to send it to the printer, insert the coins into the machine, and collect the copies from the tray.

Twenty documents needed printing. That was about twenty-five dollars total. I hoped I had enough. I clicked print on all the files and rose from the computer, heaving the sack of a purse on my shoulder. Garlic Boy beside me gave me a curious look that I ignored.

A machine by the printer accepted cash and coins to reload school ID cards with money, which could be used for school lunches or printing.

And my ID was in my purse. Underneath a ton of quarters.

Acting casual, I lowered the purse onto a nearby table. The coins rattled like I was a cartoon miser and was loud enough to practically sound an alarm that said "HEY! THIS GIRL ROBBED A VENDING MACHINE!" but all I got were a few glances from the programming club. Inside, quarters filled every pocket and fold of my purse. Sifting through the coins drew even more attention, but I found my card and swiped it through the machine.

The machine clanked and whirled as I fed the machine quarters one by one, by one, by one.... A digital screen struggled to keep up as it updated the sum.

Now the Garlic Boy openly gawked at me.

By the end, my fingers reeked a metallic tang smell that lingered in my purse, even after all the coins were gone.

The screen flashed the total: twenty-eight dollars and twenty-five cents. Just enough to cover the cost of all my sources. I exhaled and looked to the sky, thanking whatever angel who put enough quarters in that vending machine.

My breath and finger shook as I pressed a button on the display to print my queue. The printer spun to life and began churning out pages. I ran my hand across the growing stack to feel the warmth emanating from them. Though the heat wasn't comforting like fresh blankets from a dryer, it still felt satisfying. It felt like satisfaction. Relief. Everything was going to be better soon.

The satisfaction was short-lived. The display on the print stated an ETA of twenty minutes. A pit opened in my stomach as I checked the wall clock. It was already late for babysitting my brothers. If I didn't run home now, I'd risk serious repercussions.

I grabbed my phone from my now incredibly light purse and unlocked it with my passcode. My thumb swept through the contacts and hovered over one name:

James.

With a second of hesitation, I clicked "call."