Tattooed

XI

I tried looking my best when I went to the library the next day but it's hard to do when you're tired. Not only did I stay up late I fell asleep in the tub and almost drowned. There were faint dark circles around my eyes. But I did my hair into a nice French side braid and threw on a professional attire. I wanted to look like as if being moved to the library was a coveted thing.

The library was at least closer to my house than the headquarters was. Joleen was already there waiting for me with her usual perky smile and noisy heels. She click clacked her way to me, clipboard in hand.

"Good morning Cecil glad you're on time. Mr. Gregory has been impressed with your achievements at work so far and has chosen you for this special job."

I couldn't help but smile. So this was a good thing. I really did make a good impression on Gregory. Of course Joleen could just be sugarcoating it...

"If you will please follow me."

The library looked old, in a breathtaking way. As if it was a museum and everything had a deep rich history. Like the park Corinth took me to it was untouched by today's technology. The floors, tables, and bookshelves were a faded mahogany and the windows were made of stained glass. Underneath the tables were plush Persian rugs. There were a few people about but all you could hear was the clack of Joleen's shoes against the wood.

"It's beautiful." I breathed as she led me to the back. Joleen shrugged.

"Not my cup of tea but yes, everything in Creative is beautiful. Even in old places like these. This library was here before the Stratums were even established. It use to be what you call a Cathedral. The first Creatives remade it into an archive and eventually it became this library. It has everything from children's books to poetry to historical documents."

"So what am I suppose to do here?" I inquired. We zigzagged through the aisles until she stopped in front of a set of big wooden doors with a golden lock on it. Joleen pulled out a key, unlocked the doors and ushered me inside. There I was nearly blinded by all the gold.

"This is a secret room only certain people in Creative know about. It holds all the original documents about our history. Every story, letter, contract, and design that we've found."

I looked around. The twenty feet high walls were all covered by drawers from top to bottom and had gold plates on the front. On the ceiling was a golden chandelier and in the center was a lone desk covered in parchment.

"For the next month you will be working here. Gregory wants you to create a more efficient way of storing these documents. A better way to log and find these documents when we need them at our disposal. And a better security system. Here's the complete list of all the requirements. I suggest today you just get yourself familiar with the place."

With that Joleen turned away on her heels, leaving me alone. I walked to the center of the room and spun around like a princess in a ballroom. Then I went to the closest drawer and read the plate. "Creative Economy Reports." I wondered if these were set up alphabetically or by date or by importance or if they were organized at all. I didn't blame Gregory wanting someone to fix it all up.

I planned to jump right into the assignment like I normally do but I really wanted to explore the library. I took the key Joleen gave me, locked the door and ventured around.

I ran my fingers along the spine of the books as I made my way down aisle after aisle. I looked at some novels, admiring how classics were right next to new ones, then sat myself in front of the poetry section. There were binders of poems in plastic sheets all by different poets but centering around one theme. I liked the poetry the best.


I ended up so engrossed in reading that one of the librarians informed me they were closing up for the day. Startled by how much time I spent there I hustled home. It was way past sunset, maybe 9 or 10 pm.

My head was still so wrapped with all the poems I read that I didn't even notice someone matched my step beside me.

"Hey."

I jumped. Of course it was none other than Wes walking beside me. I said nothing, just continued making my way home but he still walked with me.

"You're not going to say hello back? That's not very Clement of you."

"Shouldn't you be with your mother Wes?" I snipped. I was close to my house now.

"I just finished visiting her. Care to explain to me the attitude?"

"Attitude? What attitude? I was simply wondering because you usually leave much later at night." I wanted to run all the way home but I knew that'd just be embarrassing. But it'd be worth not having this conversation...

"Cecil are you upset with me? You’re upset I can tell."

"What are you a Cunning?" I shot back. He gave me a pointed look and I just huffed at him. Finally I was at my front lawn and I made my way to the porch when I noticed him still following. "Wes I'll call the guards if you don't leave!"

He looked concerned at my anger. "Just tell me why you're so mad. This isn't like you."

The nerve of him! "Wes you don't know me! And you shouldn't care if I'm mad at you or not."

Wes sat down on my front porch step. "Here I thought we were getting to be good friends."

“I guess we both thought wrong.” I snapped. He raised an eyebrow as I pushed past him and hurried to unlock my door. Wes got up and held my shoulder. I tried to push his hand away but he spun me so we were face to face. “What?” I yelled.

“Both wrong?” He asked. I looked at him like he was speaking gibberish. “You said we were both wrong.”

I flushed pink. “It-It’s nothing Wes.” I tried to jerk away but he still held my shoulder firmly.

“Cecil what were you wrong about?” He tried again.

“I thought you were coming over last night okay?! But you didn’t and it’s fine.”

He let go of me. “You’re mad because I didn’t see you last night?” He crinkled his eyebrows in confusion. At least he didn’t have the nerve to be cocky about it.

"No! I'm mad because-because...I'm mad at myself." I finished lamely. I really hated how he makes me act so stupid. I never lose my temper easily but he gets me all worked up.

"Look Cecil. I like talking with you. Why do you think I keep on coming here? But one I didn't even visit my mom last night because I decided I had to lay low and two even if I did I didn't think you wanted to see me again so soon."

“Cecil?” Wes asks looking down on me. I bite my lip and make a break for the door, shutting it and locking it quickly. I stay there for a minute, making sure I hear footsteps before I leave.