Desiderata - A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction

Chapter One

"Are you sure?"

"Well, it's not going to be a ghost," I say, flipping through the table of contents.  Sure enough, the books are just what I need; views on culture, capital, and hegemony.

"Maybe you don't remember putting those books there."

"Kelly, I would have remembered because I would've immediately looked through it."

"But Constance, he's your Shakespeare teacher. Shakespeare! Not even in the social sciences division." She has a point there. "Besides, that's not important. What's important is that you finally have your information and you can move on."

I sigh. "You're right"

She flips her hair dramatically. "Of course I am." With a playfully smirk, we start chuckling. "It's a line in here. Don't judge me."

It's nearing eight o'clock when the library doors burst open once more. A familiar, wildly frizzy Afro brings a smile to my stressed-out face.

"Chase Martin!" the librarian scolds. "For the last time, this is a library, not a gym!" Not caring, the man, holding a skateboard, runs up the steps, two at a time, to proceed to run over where Kelly and I are sitting. With a whole bunch of energy radiating off of him, I'm quite surprised that he isn't out of breath.

"You guys missed it," Chase says as he glides into a chair across from me.

"Some guys just jumped Mr. Cumberbatch, and—"

"What?!" Kelly cries, springing up from her seat as if there were a fire under it. She quickly gathers her script. "I have to go, I'll see you in creative writing tomorrow, Constance."

We wait until she's well out the door to resume talking.

"You made that up, didn't you?"

"Completely." I laugh. Mr. Cumberbatch wasn't just Kelly's theater teacher and director; he was her role model. I am pretty sure that if it came between going to grab lunch together or spending fifteen minutes helping him, she would stay in the theater. Actually, I'm certain of this, for she had already done so in the past.

"So what did you need to tell me in private?"

"It didn't have to be in private," Chase admits. "I just wanted to make sure Kel didn't go insane studying too hard." I fold my arms and give him a smirk. He was doing it again; he was falling for her hard.

"When are you going to tell her how you feel?"

"When you understand Anthropology."

"Low blow, Martin." He smiles. "Really, what's going on?" He whips out three tickets, and the words Phantom of the Opera flash in my face.

"Shut. Up."

"And I also got us tickets for the train."

"When is it?"

"NextThursday. The train leaves at 12:30." I groan. "What?"

"We have class." Right in the middle of Shakespeare, to be exact.

"Can't you skip?" I smile. Chase was always fifteen-minutes late, always claiming to come from far away when really it's because he oversleeps. I would have to catch him up to speed since Mr. Hiddleston always made class announcements during then.

"Right, because I can afford that right now." I pack up the books, but I don't understand why Chase is chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"I'm pretty sure you could get out of it."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't see it?"

"See what?"  With a laugh, he starts to walk out, but I catch him at the stairs. 

"What's there to see?" Shaking his head still, he takes off on his skateboard, leaving me in the dark.