“Linc,” a tartly giggle sounded from somewhere in the stacks, Sawyer’s eyes rolled heavenward while adjusting her glasses, “you’re terrible.”
Well at least the tart knew a thing or two, what they were doing was in fact terrible. All week the little dark headed girl had walked in the front door, made a bee line for some hidden part of the library, and shortly afterward the very soft sounds of panting and whispering grated on Sawyer’s ears. Clockwork, as if they were on some kind of breeding schedule, she would enter at ten am on the dot, by ten after the panting and giggling started, and by eleven the girl was sauntering past her cubicle looking much to satisfied with herself and just a bit dazed as she made her way to the door.
As if on cue, the girls’ simpering face appeared from the dusty stacks and Sawyer felt herself getting angry all over again. Did they have no respect? It was something you would expect from a delinquent of Linc’s caliber, but did the girl have no self respect? They had to know, that while they may be out of ear shot from everyone else, Sawyer could hear just about ever heated whisper, not to mention the fact that at any moment someone could discover them.
“What is wrong with kids these days?” while her question had been rhetorical, Melba sidled up on her desk and sighed.
“I guess it’s eleven already,” even she sounded exasperated with the situation.
“On the dot,” she looked up at her friend, “isn’t it deplorable?”
“I just wish I had thought of that,” Sawyer’s surprise was evident in her eyes. “Well,” Melba shrugged, “the stacks are secluded.”
“Hardly, “ Sawyer scoffed, “anyone could happen upon you.”
“Sawyer,” Melba lowered her coffee cup to smile, “it’s June. The kids, as you like to call them,” she took a long sip of her coffee trying to appear superior, “are at the beach or off gallivanting around. No one with the exception of us, Miss Cover, and that guy who reads to the children is here at ten am,” Sawyer just glared at her friend. “It is perfectly safe,” she took another sip, “and I happen to think it’s hot.”
“Sometimes I wonder how I became friends with such a vile woman,” it was her turn to smile at the little pixie.
“You got very lucky,” Melba glared playfully, but her mouth was stretched in a wide smile.
“What,” Sawyer jumped as the loud timber interrupted them, “are my two favorite ladies up to today?” her face flamed, so her head dropped back to her work and she sent a prayer to the universe that he wouldn’t look at her.
“We were just discussing your activities in the stacks,” now she was asking the universe to kill her,“and grading you.”
“Is that so?” just above her head she could see his arms rest on the top of her cubicle and she could feel his eyes burning into her. “So what did I score?”
“One would assume some terrible venereal disease,” before she could stop herself the words were out, slapping her hand against her mouth did nothing to ease her embarrassment. Shocked blue eyes winked back at her and Melba’s laughter rang out loudly in the quiet library, “I’m sorry,” her hand was removed long enough to spit out the words and then she was up, briskly walking away from the two of them and her insurmountable mortification.
“Don’t worry captain,” his voice followed her sounding slightly amused, “I’m clean.”
She spent the next hour hiding from them until she could escape for lunch. Lunch with her sister had sounded like a good way to get far away from the two people she did not care to see, but even as she picked at her salad the conversation kept popping in her brain. Venereal disease? Who says that? It made her sound like a prude, not to mention the fact that being invisible to the incredibly good looking delinquent was no longer an option. He’s probably sitting at my cubicle with Melba still laughing about my prudish behavior. It was enough to have her wanting to slam her head on the table.
