creation // muke

three

L u k e

I was running a little late this morning, and instead of getting to the library at 9:00 to open up, I got there at 9:45. I quickly walked to the front door, being careful not to scuff up my pink converse on the way there.

When I turned the corner of the building, I saw Michael sitting there, waiting.

"Finally decide to show up?" He asked as I fumbled with my keys.

"My alarm didn't go off." I said softly, and shoved my hands in my pockets, searching for the purple library key that I took off of my key ring for some reason.

"I don't have my key." I said after a few minutes of looking.

"Idiot. Can't you do anything right?" Michael scoffed.

"Can't seem to." I said.

Even though Michael was disrespecting me, he was still talking to me. It made me feel a little less invisible to the world.

"It's probably just in my car. Let me run and get it." I said, and ran back to my car.

I did find the key, but as I was running back, I tripped and slid on my knees. I felt pain shoot through my leg, but I didn't wanna keep Michael waiting, so I stood up, and limped to the front of the building where he was.

"Dude! What did you do?! There's blood coming through the knee of your jeans!" He said, and I winced once I looked down.

"Don't worry about it. I just fell. I'm okay." I said, and unlocked the door, letting him in before me.

I went behind the desk and rolled up the leg of my jeans. I saw a huge cut on my knee, so I pressed paper towels to it.

The bleeding calmed down, but I kept my jeans rolled up anyway.

Eventually, I got up and walked over to the cart filled with books. I limped over to the isle I was supposed to put them in, and looked at the numbers, seeing they were supposed to go on the top. I would have to stand on a stool to do that, and my knee stings.

"Hey? I know you hate me for some reason, but could you help me out?" I asked, and looked to the isle across from mine.

Michael looked over up from his book, and nodded, walking over to me. "Of course." He said, and I handed him a stack of books that were in the correct order already. He stepped on the stool, and I watched as he placed them in the spots they go.

"Thank you." I said, and smiled at him.

"No problem. Are you going back to your desk?" He asked, and I nodded. He cracked a smile and looked at me. "Sit on the cart." He said, and I looked at him skeptically. "Your knee hurts, doesn't it?" He asked and I nodded, sitting on the cart.

I laughed as he quickly pushed me over to my desk, and helped me into my chair.

"Thank you, Michael." I said, and he smiled, walking back to the book he was reading.

There was something strange about him. Earlier he was calling me names, and now he's super nice. I don't get it.