Heroes & Villains

Ex: 04 | Finder's Keepers

• • • • • • • • • • • • • •Kal's POV• • • • • • • • • • • • • •
I tried to forget. I tried to forget that night; I tried to forget her, but I just couldn't. How could I? I mean ever since yesterday I thought I was the only Fulmen to exist... but I'm not the only one and now there's someone else who not only shares these rare abilities, but can compromise who I am.

I have somewhat of a lowkey life in North Chatham, I was able to cover my abilities really well. The Knox name can get you out of a lot of stuff. I don't need some prissy girl screwing my life up, I need to know who she is. If I know her identity I can make sure she never exposes mine... or my abilities for that matter.

Currently I'm in central Chatham, heading down a cobblestone-lined street searching for some random free public library I found online. I see the old structure with its ivory arching entangled in vines that are claiming the edges of the building. This dilapidated place has the last vintage, original cover copy of The Great Gatsby. I would never be caught in such a shitty place, but I'm desperate. Capitalism rather fund swimming pools with STDs then support knowledge through libraries. Absolute bullshit if you ask me.

Gladly there's practically no one in there. Just a cluster of overtanned, blonde, Barbie doll looking girls standing outside; gesturing and whispering as I walk by. Why the hell are they loitering outside of the library. Loitering inside is a better use of ones' time.

When I walk inside I'm greeted by an old woman. Her glasses are practically falling down her fox nose. "The bar lounges are on the other side of town"she says without even looking up. When I don't respond she lifts her eyes to mine, "Oh..Can I help you, hun?". I catch her eyeing me up and down. Most people think I'm either a rich playboy looking for a bar or some hoodlum that's going to steal their damn purse. I've only done both of those things once, dum vivimus, vivamus (while we live, let's us live).

"Uh- Where are your classics?". She gestures to the back wall. I walk to the far end of the room and start shuffling through the disorganized shelves. All I need is to find this one book, just this one, and then I can be out of here. My father's having another party for his investors, which he insists I attend. The teal binding is easily noticeable amongst the myriad of browns and is lying haphazardly on one of the middle shelves. What a disgrace, this is a goddamn classic! As I'm reaching for it, a small hand grabs the binding from the other side of the bookshelf. What the hell?

I stick my hand through to the other side, and happen to grasp the wrist of someone instead. There's a faint gasp on the opposite side of the shelf. After a pause, the book-snatcher pushes a row of books across the shelves so a little opening emerges. I see a normal girl with a confused expression on her face, clutching the teal book to her chest.

"I saw it first. You can have it back on April 32nd" I say flatly. For the first time, my intimidating appearance might be of some use.

I've been looking for this exact edition for 6 months now, and no amount of money or my father's ancient libraries were of any use on this quest. Only this deteriorating hut has the only copy.

She catches her laugh right before it leaves her lips "April 32nd? Will you throw extravagant parties until one day, your one true love , this book" she pauses humorously to laugh at her own stupid joke "stops by?". Although I appreciate the Gatsby reference, I would appreciate her handing over the book more.

"Haven't you heard of finder's keepers?" I reply running my hand through my tangled hair. Why me, why me? "There's other copies, uh, it's just that I looked for that one everywhere." I pause, "It's the vintage-"

"vintage copy with the original cover and author's note" we say in unison. She lifts her eyebrows in surprise when she notices when both uttered the same thing. I guess we both underestimated each other's taste in literature.

"Fine, by the laws of finders keepers, I  renounce this book back to you." She holds out the book through the book shelf, and I gladly accept.

A polite smile displays on her face "I hope you find your green light" she says as she turns to walk away.

I surprisingly chuckle; another reference. "Ah" I nod, "it's unreachable. That was kinda the whole point". She turns around to rolls her eyes, but I hear a laugh slip her lips. The last thing I see is a tattered yellow ribbon tied in a bow tangled in her brown waves.

There's something off, almost different, about her. What teenager wears ribbons, especially worn out pale yellow ones, in their hair? What a peculiar little thing.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • Sera's POV• • • • • • • • • • • • • •
I turn around and roll my eyes at the boy. His hair was tousled like he just walked a mile here and his posh clothing was borderline grunge. The collar was unbuttoned underneath his sweater and his sleeves were un-cuffed. He really came all the way to this library, that no one knows about, all for a book? Who am I kidding? I would do that. I cried when I couldn't find my first copy of Pride&Prejudice ... and that was last year.

He doesn't look like any of the regulars here. This building is falling apart, completely forgotten by the town. I actually find comfort in the vine lined windows, it adds more than just character, it adds an entire story. I think how remarkable it is how the earth claims things back, regardless of its disheveled foundations, they will remain.

There was something about him that was intriguing. Watching his vibrant emerald green eyes panic as I held that book was entertaining enough. I turn back once more as I exit the store, and I see the boy, nose buried in those ivory pages nearly run into a row of book racks as he heads to the desk. Who knew non-conformism was such an interesting thing to witness.

I myself nearly run into a group of girls huddled outside. Who stands outside of a bookstore? That's like standing outside of heaven and never walking in. Standing outside of a movie theater and never watching a movie. I follow their gaze to what they've been obsessing over. I see they were staring at the same thing I was, not that he noticed.