Between the Stacks

Chapter 40

The great thing about concerts for children is that they were completely lawless. The rules of society no longer applied. If I did a headstand and twirled and somersaulted and ate Cheerios (with milk) at a normal concert, people might look, whereas at an event like this it was par for the course.

I only had to stay for three songs before I was able to slip away. A mild commotion had been caused by a young boy who had brought his own child-sized guitar, and I was able to subtly leave my seat. Even Katherine Jaworski grimaced at the discordant sounds.

It didn't take me long to make it to the front reference desk. I showed my pass to the librarian on duty, and mentioned I had to drop off something for Wesley. The librarian waved me towards the back staff area. I doubted he had heard anything I'd said over the sound of the music; he looked like he would rather be anywhere in the universe than being held hostage at this "concert."

I slipped into the room that contained the staff desks. At this time of day it was fairly busy, so I faked confidence as I strode to the back window. Wesley's desk looked just like it had when I'd done my previous sneaking activity: some books, a box of Oreos, and a picture of his parents.

I refused to take a good look at the photo. As curious as I was, it was none of my business to snoop further into his personal business. Kermit was enough for now - I took him out of my bag and placed him on Wesley's chair with a pink Post-It note that said, Books are ribbeting.

Ribbeting. Riveting. I was hardly a comedy genius.

"Hey, Emma."

I jumped and spun around to see Scott, the traitorous librarian who had scooped the Mr. Oodles of Noodles concert from me. Not that I likely would have hired Jack in the first place – although that hardly made a difference. He'd still gone behind my back.

I crossed my arms and tried to project my rage, even though I probably just looked constipated. "Hi, Scott. Just dropping off something for Wesley."

"Is that...Kermit? The frog?" he asked, looking at the chair.

"The one and only." I grabbed my bag from where I had dropped it on the floor. "Anyways, I've got to run. Don't tell Wes that I was here."

I didn't realize what I'd said until I saw the look of shock on Scott's face: Wes. Since when did he have a nickname? Next thing you knew I would call him love muffin or something equally obnoxious.

Scott shook off his surprise, then lowered his voice. "Emma, look. Wesley reamed me out for booking Jack, and he was totally right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it in the first place, and I definitely should have told you."

Wesley hadn't told me that he'd said anything to Scott. Something warm and tingly seemed to stretch around my heart - but maybe that was just a medical condition. "It's okay," I said.

My leg twitched. I hated doing this: a small lie to make someone else feel better. I thought about what Ms. Linaberry had done when she was angry with me.

"Actually," I said. "It's not okay. I'm not expecting a formal apology or anything, but it's a bit unprofessional to swoop in like that."

A woman at the next desk looked up, clearly enraptured by the gossip. 

"You're absolutely right." Scott frowned. "Wesley even called me Stale Biscotti, and he only breaks out that nickname when he's angry. That's how I knew he was serious. I did tell Katherine that the idea was yours, if it helps at all."

Katherine. Scott was on a first-name basis with the CEO. Was that usual? Did everyone have Katherine on speed dial except me? I had a sudden vision of Katherine Jaworski hosting slumber parties and painting everyone's toenails with every librarian except me.