Photographs | Dallas Winston

2

   I tousled my curls so they would loosen a little bit, and then put a small, red headband on to keep them out of my face. Next, I put on some eye-shadow, mascara, and pink lipstick.

   Taking a deep breath, I ran back to my room and grabbed my bag, throwing in my wallet and some other miscellaneous things.

   "Milli?" My dad called up. "You almost done up there?"

   "Yeah, I'm coming!" I checked my look in the mirror one last time before I bounded down the stairs. "How do I look?"

   "Great." My dad winked. "Now you better get going. Looks like the rain's slacked up a little bit."

   "Okay! Bye!" I bid my family farewell and grabbed my car keys from where they sat in the little porcelain tray by the back door.

   The smell of rain hit me almost immediately as the garage door opened to reveal my baby blue Austin mini. If someone could be in love with a vehicle, then I was absolutely head over heels for my car. It'd been my sixteenth birthday present and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

   I pulled out and turned the corner out of my neighborhood of big houses and perfectly manicured lawns.

   It didn't bother me where I lived or who I was friends with, it bothered me that we were judged for our every move and out every word. Soc and greaser alike.

   It was pointless, the whole Greaser and Soc feud, but there wasn't much anybody could do but keep to themselves or move out of town.

   I pulled into the library with windshield wipers whirring and put it in park with a long, exasperated sigh.

   The rain was coming down in pelting sheets now, and I knew almost immediately that my curls were not going to withstand this weather. This was the kind of rain that would drench you even if you were underneath an umbrella.

   But still, I had to get to work. And I knew I would get in trouble if my parents knew I showed up late on my first day.

   So, with not much of a choice left, I open my car door as quickly as possible and open my parasol. I get wet the moment I step out, and my leather flats are pretty much underwater in the puddles formed in the uneven dips of the parking lot as I ran to get under the awning.

   "Millicent Decour?" A woman's voice called from behind me, muffled slightly by the rain pounding on the tin roof.

    I turned, flustered. "Yes?"

   I felt the droplets from my parasol land on my kneecaps as I shook out the plasticky material.

    "I'm Mrs. Mercer!" She yelled, beckoning for me to come and meet her. "Hurry in before you get even more wet!"

    I laughed cynically to myself, walking towards her in a frantic frenzy of trying to fix my hair and smooth out my skirt that was sticking to my skin.

    "Good morning!" Mrs. Mercer said. "Millicent? Am I saying it correctly?"

    I smiled, setting my wet parasol by the door. "Yes, that's right."

    "Beautiful name." She led me to a round table towards the back of the library. "I'm Mrs. Mercer, and I'll be your supervisor, I guess. In other words, if there's a problem just come to me."

    I nodded. She was an aging woman, with some grey streaks in her chestnut hair.

    "I think what I'm going to start you on is checking the returned books and putting them back on their correct shelves." She began straightening all the loose papers on the table and stacking the books that were strewn across the wood.

   "You think you can do that?" She looked at me abruptly.

    "Um, yes." I stammered, slightly. "Yes, I think I can manage."

    "Well, let me give you a little tour so you have an idea where everything is." She sauntered quickly to the back left corner of the library, and I did my best to follow her, but my shoes were squeaking louder than the twelve 'o clock train.

    I listened to them echo throughout the quiet of the library as she toured me around, a slight heat of embarrassment heating my cheeks.

    "That's it." She stopped right back at the round table. "The returned books are on a cart over there," she pointed to the back corner. "And if you need anything else I'll be at the front desk."

   I nodded, watching her as she returned to her desk and began writing something down.

    I slipped my flats off, disgusted with the way they were sticking to my skin. I could already feel the chill biting at my skin as the air conditioning cut on, and I felt the edge of a bad attitude begin to creep up on me.

    "No, Millicent..." I whispered, straightening my posture and taking a deep breath.

    "Not today."