Between the Stacks

Chapter 8

"What are you doing?" Wesley did not look happy to find that I had invaded his library. 

"Um," I said, using my ounce of intelligence I had. "Uh, I-"

"Are you spying on me?"

"No?" It came out as a question. "Can't I check out books from the local library system?" I winced. I sounded like a brochure.

We stood in a frozen tableau: me, with my stack of books that were about to topple over; him, with a glare in his eyes. I would say it was dramatic, but with kids running around and screeching in the background, any ounce of drama was fortunately ruined.

"The point of spying is to blend in," he said, gesturing vaguely at my outfit. "Not look like you're a disco ball."

"Harsh," I said. I decided it was easier to admit defeat. "For the record, you didn't even notice me spying. So I was a great spy."

"You literally checked out books with your own card. Biscotti recognized your name when it popped up."

I blinked. "Biscotti?"

For the first time Wesley looked unsettled. "Scott. The guy who checked out your books."

"You called him Biscotti."

He shrugged. "It's his nickname. When he's being uncool we call him Stale Biscotti."

I couldn't help it - I laughed. I felt like I had lost a point. I clamped a hand over my mouth.

"So why did you do it?" Wesley asked. The heat was gone from his voice. "Why did you come to the other end of town on a Saturday to spy on us?"

"Let's sit down. My spying shoes are killing me." I had worn my one pair of heels to disguise my height, and I had been reminded of why I only owned one pair of heels. I sat on the chair next to my stack of books. Wesley left one chair as a buffer before sitting down next to me. "How much time do you have?"

"I'm on break," he said. "Scott got me when he could."

"You mean Biscotti."

He smiled, tipping his head. "I mean Biscotti."

His face lit up when he smiled. It was the strangest transformation, as if he was a different person.

"I feel like you had a head start," I said, settling into my chair. "Somehow you knew one of the library branches would be shut down, so you maneuvered your way into a brief stint at Northern Ridge so that you could sabotage us. Am I wrong?"

"No," he admitted, clearing his throat. "It wasn't my finest moment."

"So how did you know?"

"It was Eric, my boss." I was reminded of the skinny man next to Lakshmi during Katherine's speech. "His friend is on the Board of Directors. He let Eric know about the upcoming closure. But," he emphasized, "the decision to come to Northern Ridge was all me. Not Eric."

"It's pretty hypocritical to call me out for spying, where I'm doing nothing wrong, whereas you sabotaged us for a week."

"I'm not calling you out for spying. I'm calling you out for being a terrible spy. There's a difference." There was something in the tone of his voice, something I couldn't quite place. "You keep using the word sabotage. That's pretty strong."

"What would you call it then? All those things going wrong? We kept getting locked out of rooms, and the catalogue would go offline, craft materials would be missing-"

He grimaced. "I get it. It wasn't cool of me. I just..."

I waited for the sentence to continue. I had to prompt him - he seemed lost in thought. "You just...?"