Sweet Like Revenge

III - The Lucky Ones

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then

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My favorite place at Irvine was always the library. I know—shocker.

But it wasn't my favorite just because of the rows upon rows of books waiting to be discovered, or because of that old-book smell— like vanilla and almond, I thought—that flowed and eddied through the air. It was because Sienna and her crew rarely stepped foot in what they had renamed 'Vermin Valley'. It was because there, I was safe.

For the most part, anyway.

I often spent my lunch hour curled up in one of the back-rows with a new read. But there were only so many books in Irvine's library and, over time, it became harder and harder to find one that I hadn't read or re-read at least a couple of times.

One afternoon, a few weeks before Mia and I would decide to flee Irvine for good, I escaped to the library to hunt for my next adventure. How I came to relish my moments of solitude in between those bookshelves, where I could truly let my guard down and know that I wasn't being watched.

A glimmering spine caught my attention, and I picked it off the shelf. Party of One. Fitting.

"Are you okay?" a small voice asked from further down the row.

I turned to see that I wasn't, in fact, alone. Rather, a student sat on the floor, textbooks and notebooks sprawled in front of him in an organized mess, with his back against a bookshelf but his deep green eyes fixed on me. I didn't buy his look of concern. Not for a second. I was certain that the only reason anyone in that school bothered to talk to me was so that they could gather information to feed back to Sienna. To keep themselves safe.

"No," I told him, tired of lying. Tired of pretending. What was the point?

He tapped the end of his pen against his notebook. "I'm sorry."

He sounded sincere.

I still didn't buy it.

"Why?" I challenged, my tone much sterner than the one that I usually adopted. But, really, what did I have to lose?

He motioned around pointedly, failing to mask a scoff. "I'm hiding in the library. Doing homework. At lunchtime." His eyes softened, but his playful smirk remained. "I know how you feel."

"You're hiding?" I asked as I edged closer, still hesitant, but oddly curious.

The boy tilted his head towards me. "Aren't you?"

He had me there.

"Do want to sit?" he asked, moving his pile of books aside.

"No," I said immediately. Instinctively. "I want to be alone."

He nodded. "Me, too. But I thought we could be alone together."

"That's counterproductive."

He shrugged, returning to his book. "Maybe you're right. But maybe you're wrong."