Chase & Adrienne

13

CHASE 

THURSDAY AFTERNOON

I run my fingers along the spines of reference books I'll never read that line the bookshelves in the library. I go deeper and deeper into the building, looking for my hiding spot between the words. The shelves go by in a flash, blurred by my rage and determination. When did everything go to crap?  Anger boils up inside of me. Anger at Luke, anger at Adrienne, anger at myself. I don't meet the eyes of anyone I pass, staring straight ahead at the back wall. I don't look around until I reach it. Along the back wall, beat-up couches line the windows, providing reading places for people who don't want to hear the noise from the front desk (noise meaning the bothersome shuffling of papers and the thump of stamps against pages. I collapse into the faded gray couch on the very end of the row. It creaks underneath my weight.

I try to imagine Adrienne sitting next to me. This is where we would go before we found Andre, Danny, Carmen, and Renee. Once upon a time, Adrienne and I were scared, little freshman with braces and bad haircuts, hiding from upperclassmen in the back corner of the library. So many memories were made on this very couch. I flip over the cushion next to me, revealing the faded stain where Adrienne spilled Dr. Pepper all over herself. I had stuffed an entire roll of paper towels in my shirt and brought them back, but the round-trip between the two ends of the library was just too long. That couch was a goner. I pat the stain, remembering how quickly the bubbles had sipped into the fabric when I had returned and how hard I had laughed at the terrific placement of the spill on Adrienne's white pants. Of course, Adrienne was mortified. I had laughed a little too hard, and I remember the whisper of a tear in her eye. Immediately, I fished my water bottle out of my backpack and poured it down my pants. We smiled at each other and walked out of the library together, arms around each other triumphantly, as the librarian gawked at our sopping pants. Those were some fun rumors. 

It was worth it, though, because the guys were the only ones who'd let us sit at their lunch table after that little fiasco, and the rest is history. I look out the window, out across the baseball field, thinking of the countless times sophomore year that Adrienne took it upon herself to rate the butts every varsity baseball player. They've all graduated by now--meaning they were all completely out of Adrienne's league--but that didn't make me feel any less uncomfortable about it. She tried to get me to do the same with the cheerleaders, but I refused. Why'd I refuse? I still don't know. 

I haven't sat on this couch with Adrienne since last year. Budding juniors, we had finally made somewhat of a name for ourselves. We had both made varsity for basketball, and they had just hung up the portraits of the players. Me and Adrienne, badass in our uniforms, dogged each other from across the gym. People recognized the pictures and said 'what's up' to us in the halls. The leaves were starting to fall. Our awkward phases seemed to be on a downward slope. Things were going great. On a cool, November day, the day before Thanksgiving break, I had just climbed in my car after practice, sweaty and tired, when I got a phone call from Adrienne. She was crying. 

~

"Adrienne."

She whimpered on the other end of the line.

"Adrienne, what is it?"

"Library. Couch. Now."

And with that, she hung up. 

I zoomed like a madman to the library parking lot, jogging to the entrance. The librarian reminded me in a strained voice that the library was to close in half an hour. I ignored her. Plenty of time.