Perfect II: The Art Of Living

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Is that a great idea? A book that will lure Trevor to our ideas? My ideas. My principles. Trevor. Trevor is too high for me to reach! If I volunteer… If I volunteer… will I be even helping others? But when we tried being activists in high school, we were only blamed for mockery by our beneficiaries. I don’t want others to commit suicide because of my own personal problems. Wait. Why is this all about me now? Isn’t this about Technical Hardbounds? I’ll try helping him. Not myself. Besides, I know Ethan can do it himself. Enid looked at her clock and sighed. 17:00, where could he be?

           “The library will close now, miss,” the librarian told her with a wide grin.

           Heavens. Enid needed to swallow hard to prevent herself her from sweating immensely. The huge green-eyed stud towered like The Tower Of Babylon; unfinished with an unkempt hairdo. His eyebrows were arching like a tempting jaguar ready to gnaw his prey’s victim. Yup! He was an explosion of materials. He was wild and devious. He seemed familiar, though. Someone from High School. Enid recalled but she couldn’t fathom who.

           “The library is closing, miss,” he repeated with a teasing smirk.

           Enid gulped and absentmindedly stood. She bobbed her head but did not stop staring at the librarian.

           “You forgot this.” He handed a book to her, Hamlet. As Enid walked away, he yelled, “Wait” and locked the door.

           Enid froze realizing her, the only person left in the whole library, with the Greek God Librarian. She gulped harder, feeling sweat drift down into her purple turtleneck.

           “Com’re,” he invited her into some dimly lit corner of the gargantuan library. He kept walking and disappeared into the shelves. Enid tried deciding if she was to go or not. The Greek God Librarian seemed pedophi-lish but she had this usual attraction to librarians. It wasn’t of romanticism though. A Librarian Is The Most Honest Person In The World.

           She followed.

           The walk made her anxious enough to make her sweat stop in cold embrace. The air conditioning was colder in the corners of the library. Shelves towered like they were forbidden for touch. Her eyes reached the paramount of the books and gazed like they were New York buildings. The sight under the cupola was glorious. It seemed like her dream Vatican library. She turned around.

           “Oh,” bumping on the Greek God Librarian. “S-Sorry.” Greek God Librarian chuckled as she blushed.

           “Here. Do you know her?” he inquired as he pulled out an artwork from his back like a flower.

           Enid shook her head.

           “She’s Beatrice,” he said, showing a portrait of a sketch of a woman with wavy hair shading her face.

           “A book character, sir?” Enid asked, examining the paperwork.

           Greek God Librarian chuckled. “That was a different response!”

           Enid stared at him.

           “They thought she was my wife.” He chuckled again.

           “She’s provocative.”

           “And?” Greek God Librarian anticipated. “Aren’t you telling I’m a pervert?”