THE LIBRARY

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His POV:

I had trash day. It's something that I've been saying quite a lot lately.

I step out of my unnecessarily large room into the unneccesarily large hallway of my unneccesarily large house. VILLA is more like it. Before stepping out of the large wooden doors, I pick up the keys to my bike.

With my backpack and helmet on, I climb onto my BMS Nehmesis and move with the speed of the wind. PERKS OF HAVING A DAD WHO DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT, I can do whatever I want.
60
70
75
80kmph

Parking my bike near the school buses, I hop off and strap my helmet to the handle. Passing the bleachers, I head towards the backdoor. Just as I'm about to slip my key into the lock, I see that it's already open.

WHAT. THE. HECK.

Did Mrs. Walls forget to lock the door? But that old lady never forgets anything. Especially the books that I forget to return. Something's wrong. I slowly walk into the room to find the door to the library also open. What is going on? I slowly step into the library, in between the shelves when I spot a ponytail. Definitely not Mrs. Walls with her signature mop of white hair, precisely chopped into a short bob.

I see her. She's facing the other way. I slowly advance towards her. The moment I'm about to call for her, she turns around.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh"

I immediately stamp my hand over her mouth to stop her screeching.

JONES? WHAT THE HELL IS JONES DOING HERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT LOOKING LIKE A DAMNED THIEF?

"JONES!!", I whisper-yell at her. Obviously she still doesn't shut up. Fuck. Someone's gonna hear her if I don't do something, fast.

"JONES. STOP. It's just me, Alarie. C'mon, just open your eyes and see. And please stop screaming." Just as I'm about to speak again, she bites at my hand. What the actual fuck. Is this girl going crazy. She's the one sneaking in the middle of the night, and I'm the one being bitten like she's a damned zombie.

Without second thoughts, I snake my left arm arround her waist, while my other hand is still stamped on her still screaming and thrashing mouth, in the hope of shutting her up. "ASHA!! Stop, it's me. JAMES. Your score buddy, arch-nemesis, a prick or whatever you think me of. Just STOP." That gets her to stop. Definitely the 'prick' part, I shouldn't even be surprised.

She finally open her eyes to look up at me. Her breathing is fast and rapid from all that screeching, and I take my hand off of her mouth.

"YOU". She litterally growls at me. She glances down at my hand that's still tightly wound around her waist. I immediately take it off and glance up to see her piercing brown eyes, only if eyes could kill. Definitely not the reaction I expected, I was pining more towards flushed cheeks maybe.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?", still looking at me with her glaring eyes.

"I could ask you the same, Bonnie.", I can't help but smirk at her when I take in her reaction to the name. Irritated as always. Always works like a charm.

She gets out of my hold and starts walking towards the shelf with all of the science guides. Does anyone ever use them? "And where are you going?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business" Well then.

I move to sit at one of the tables near the large windows. I take the seat that directly faces the window, and perch my feet on top of the table. Before I know it, I'm zoned out. What was Jones doing here? Heck! how did she even get in here? Was the door open or did she have a set of keys for here? I knew that Mrs. Walls had an extra set of keys until it disappeared somewhere around 9th grade, but I never anticipated that she might have given that pair to someone else, just like she gave me one. Before I can start contemplating all the reasons she might have chosen Jones to handover her extra set of keys, I hear a thud. I look around the table only to find Jones behind the bookshelf to my left with a pile of books pooled at here feet, with a grim-looking expression.

"Just ask already, I know you're dying to". Slightly chuckling to myself, I observe her walking over to my table with a book still clenched in her hand, and awkwardly stand near my perched-up feet. I put them down, courtesy of rich elite manners and point to the chair in front of me, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"What are YOU doing here in the middle of the night?". She says this so calmly that I look up to glance at her stone cold expression. How did she even change her expression from squirmish to cold so quickly? Sometimes she scares me by how closed off and straightforward she is in front of everyone expect that best friend of hers.

Without changing my expression, I whisper with the same calm and nonchalant tone, "Well, what are YOU doing here in the middle of the night?"

That shuts her up. She stays expressionless and silent for around 2 whole minutes until I decide to make this night a little better, not that it was any good in the first place.

"Let's play 20 questions."

A/N: I know it's a little shorter than usual but I wanted to build the space properly before jumping into the twenty questions. Do vote the story if you liked it, it would mean the world to me:)

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