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Jack searched high and low for that sketchbook when he returned from the cafe, practically turning the dorm room upside down in the process. David Jacobs, who usually went by Davey, watched in a mixture of exasperation and frustration, his head in his hands. "Jack, I swear to God the RA is going to kill us because of what you're doing."
"Let 'em kill us," Jack responded nonchalantly. He tossed open a trunk, searching hastily through its contents. "If I don't find dat sketchbook, I may as well go an' kill myself before they can get ta me."
"Deep," Davey remarked sarcastically. He knew Jack; he made a big deal out of everything. If someone borrowed his pencil and didn't return it, he would go to the Dorm Coordinator and accuse that person of thievery. That wasn't really an example, more like a true story.
"Remind me why we's friends again?" Jack retorted, slamming the trunk to a close.
"Because I keep you sane," Davey responded, setting his laptop to the side as he watched Jack tear the sheets off of his bed. "Which I see isn't working."
"No no no!" Jack waved a finger at Davey. "I's perfectly sane! Now help me lift my desk ta see if it's crammed beneath there."
"Yep. Perfectly sane."
After another thirty minutes of Jack tearing the room apart, Davey stood from his desk. "That's it. I'm going down to the cafe just to get away from you."
"The cafe? The cafe!" Jack threw his hands in the air. "Davey you is a genius! I musta left it at da cafe!"
"Nevermind. I'm going down to the library." Davey left the dorm room, about to shut the door when he quickly turned around and added. "Also, don't touch my side of the room."
"No promises," Jack pulled the tongue of his cap down. "Besides, I'm headin' out, too."
"If it's at the cafe, it's long gone by now, Jack." Davey left down the hallway, pressing the button by the elevator to go down and waiting for the doors to open.
"Nah, da fellas down there know not ta mess with my stuff," Jack shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Unless someone who wasn't one of your 'fellas' got it," Davey pointed out, stepping into the elevator as a 'ding' sounded from the lights above it.
That earned a groan out of Jack, "Oh no. I sure hope dat Plumber didn't get it..."
"Plumber?"
"Dat girl who apparently wants ta be a reporter?"
"Oh, Katherine. Why would it be an issue if she found it?"
"Oh, nuttin'," Jack said in a sing-song voice, a nervous feeling growing in his gut. The elevator shifted as it began to descend through the floors, causing his stomach to become even more uneasy than it already was.
"It's always 'nothing' with you, Jack," Davey remarked with a crooked grin, stepping out of the elevator as it stopped at the ground level. "I'll see ya back at the dorm tonight."
"See ya," Jack responded, walking in the opposite direction of Davey. A chill hung in the air, creating goosebumps on his skin from the cold temperature. The cafe wasn't a far walk; five minutes at the most. Yet Jack didn't care about her far he had to walk, he was just desperate to get his beloved sketchbook back. That sketchbook was like his diary, except the words were replaced with pictures.
Jack pushed the door for the cafe open, causing it to swing inward and activate the jingling bells above the door. He looked around, attempting to find a staff member. It wasn't difficult, for there weren't many people in the cafe at that hour except for a girl around his age who was picking up an empty mug at a table in the corner.
He hastily stepped over to her, quickly asking, "Did youse happen ta see a sketchbook dat I left in here? I was sitting at... dat table."
"No, sir. But a girl who was sitting at this table," she motioned to the table she had just picked the mug up from, "just left after stopping at that table."
Jack mentally panicked, attempting to keep calm on the outside. "How long has it been since she left?"
The girl shrugged, "Five-ten minutes? 'Can't remember." She stepped away to go wash the mug, a wet rag hanging from her other hand.
The girl didn't help Jack's case at all. If Katherine had taken the sketchbook, then she saw it was his. Yet what worried him the most was that if she looked inside of it, she would have seen the many, many drawings of her.
'Damn you, Jack,' he mentally scolded himself, leaving the cafe and heading back out into the open streets again. His hands found their way into his pockets, his feet kicking at a pebble as he walked. There goes his reputation, all because he couldn't resist himself from sketching a pretty girl. What would he be entitled as when the word got out? "Stalker of Sophomore Class"?
Jack tried to push these thoughts out of his head. He was glad he did so, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to hear the voice calling from behind him. "Hey! Kelly! Jack Kelly!"
He turned his head, finding a petite, bouncy female chasing after him with his sketchbook in her hand. He would've been happy if he didn't see that the person running in his direction was no one less than Katherine Plumber herself.
