As Easy As Murder

11. Loretta vs. the library

The whoosh of neon green, aka my best friend, runs Infront of me as we walk into the quiet stillness of the library. I have a forensic science exam coming up, and knowing I've been putting school on the back burner, I decided to come to the local library and do some studying. 

The ceiling is high with victorian architecture, old light fixtures hang low, the gold resin shining. Fliers for the storytime hour hang on the wall, along with other event promos. The floor is a light blue carpet in pristine condition, and the smell is comforting. 

Upon Loretta's disturbance, the librarian gives us a look, and the intimidation of her dark 40's hairdo makes us quietly shuffle to the back of the shush shack. We sit down at a table, and Loretta whips out the thickest binder I've ever seen. 

"You have a professor that gives you that much work?" I raise an eyebrow, leaning forward to see what could possibly require the binder that ate NYC. 

"No. I only have one binder." 

I facepalm. Classic Loretta nature. Throwing orginization to the birds and opting for one mammoth binder that looks like it's begging to be put out of it's misery. "For every class?" I clarify. 

"You bet." She makes a finger gun at me and clicks her mouth. I groan, unable to believe I am associated with her. If Kori is Simon the chipmunk, Loretta is Alvin, with the green of Theodore. 

I open my own normal sized binder and take out the study guide Professor Geraldi handed out for the quiz. My eyes read it, but my brain doesn't comprehend it. Doesn't internalize it. This has been happening me a lot lately, my brain is unable to stay in one place, restless, unruly. 

I tap my pencil against the metal table, letting out a deep bellowing sigh. Loretta pops in some earphones and starts jamming. She's lip-synching, hand-drumming, the whole kitten caboodle. I give her a look, reminding her that we are in a peaceful environment, not a wave, but the rocking out only increases. 

She stands up, gaining the attiention of other library patrons. She starts going over some complex choreography, doing someone one may know as 'shaking her thang'. I put my head down, feeling like an exhausted parent. 

A handsome city boy in the back it witnessing the whole thing with an amused smile, and I want to politely ask the librarian to euthanize me. 

I finally have had enough and take her headphones off. "Sit down." 

She rolls her eyes and plops down with a thud, snatching her headphones back and sticking her tongue out at me. The librarian is clutching her necklace, looking like she's a time traveler seeing someone twerk for the first time. 

I try to focus, shifting in my seat and staring down the words on the paper like we're enemies. I jam my pencil into the paper, trying to magically sent currents from the information to my brain, but sadly, I am not a superhero. Anyone have a spider? 

Loretta is now staring at her own article enemie. "What are you working on?" 

"Essay," She replies, opening up her MacBook. Yikes. Loretta doesn't exactly have a way with words. A quote from her college application theses paper, 'So ol' georgie washywash stood up and read the important thingy, and everyone was like, yeah, so they all signed it, and some attention hog name John clockyhands or something took up all the space, so that's why people ask for your John handclog.' 

I chew my lip, my eyes wandering everywhere but on my exam preparation. A familiar face catches my eye, Cheryl from the front desk of the university. Come to think of it, I never went to that advisor appointment. Oops. She's at the new arrival shelf, checking out the newest romance novels, reading each description intently. She's in a tight-fit orange polka-dot dress, usual huge bun at the top of her head, and bright pink glasses, the kind movie-stars wear. 

"I'll be right back." I excuse myself from me and loretta's no studying study sesh and approach Cheryl. I get to the shelf, picking up some random vampire romance novel and trying to act natural and genuinely interested in the sappy cliche plot. 

"Averen, darlin', is that you?" Within 30 seconds, I'm recognized. I meet her big brown eyes, her bright smile flashes at me and earns one of my own. I nod, and put the book back on the shelf. I'm no reader, but that book is not one for the books. 

She steps forward, "How is everything?" 

"Good, good. Different." I smile, and we sit down on one of the many comfy seating options. I don't know why I didn't come in before, it's so homey, so calm. Besides the librarian, she looks like she killed her rich husband for his inheritance or something. 

"I can imagine. But I must admit, you seem tense, hun." She tilts her head, bun moving with it and now-off balance. I sigh, she can read me like a book, and I hardly know her. Besides the occasional exchange when I enter the building in the morning, we don't talk. When I'm in a bad mood, I sometimes ignore her. And I suddenly feel bad about it. I suddenly feel bad about everything. Like I want to open up. And that's not like me. At all. 

I chew my lip once again, it's become a bad habit. "I guess I am. Things are a bit overwhelming, but hey, I can handle it." 

Usually my confidence convinces everyone. A simple smile and a joke cracked and their off my case. But Cheryl's different, like she can see through me, see through the facade. I didn't think I had a facade but she's making me feel like I do. Her knowing glance, It's like she can see through an outer shell, into my soul. Can see my inner child. It feels so foreign, so new. 

"Well, you always have me. I may just be the front desk lady, but I have some therapist expirience. I don't have children of my own, but I'd like to think I can still give some good advice. You have any questions, just ask me. Don't tell anyone, especially Anthony, but you're one of my favorites." 

My heart lights up like fireworks. I can't remember the last time I was a favorite. I didn't know I longed to be a favorite, interacting with Cheryl seems to be a rollercoaster of self-discovery, and I don't know If I want to get off or throw my arms up. 

Anthony. I suddenly realize why she brought up Anthony. I see him. He's by the right wall, where the computers are. He's just fooling around, playing a game, his lips moving. I can tell he's beatboxing. I wonder if he'll end up going down the music path....ehhh...probably not. 

She follows my gaze, "The boy seems to have attached to me a bit. He's got an interesting outlook on life, I'll tell ya that." She chuckles and shakes her head. "I took him here to help him study for his psychology exam, but he's ditched me for one of those silly modern games. Your generation loves those things. My nephew wants me to play with him, but I am just too old." 

We have a conversation for a while. She tells me various life stories and adventures, and the lady's got one of the most interesting and eventful live's ever. I don't even feel the need to get a word in, entertained by her 'back In my day's. She feels like the cool aunt I never had, being both of my parents are only children. 

But then I remember I left Loretta unattended. For hours. In a space she doesn't know how to act right in. Oh boy. 

I excuse myself from Cheryl, promising to keep in touch and talk soon, and to yes, email me those book reccomendations, even knowing I probably wont read them. It's nice to know that she cares. And it's scary to know how close she got me to opening up. 

I look back at the table me and Loretta were previously sitting at, and she's not there. Damn it. I feel like a bad babysitter, infact, for a minute there I almost worries about my tip. But I don't get paid to worry about this fishnet-wearing oversized toddler. 

I search through aisles of books until I spot her curled up in a chair, head buried in a book. For someone who has religiously claimed she hates reading, she sure looks invested. 

I peek over her shoulder and see the scene she's reading is..well..hot and heavy.

"Loretta!" I hiss, snatching it away from her. "We come here to study and you're off in the corner reading about a werewolf's ass?"

She scoffs, standing up. "Well I-" 

Now I feel like real mother. I drag her back over to the table and we gather our things, the whole time she's coming up with his elaborate story of how she miraculousy ended up in the land of abs. I don't buy a second of her bullcrap. Who knew she was into fantasy, and hot fantasy at that? 

I wonder if the books her mother provides her with are like that. I mean, like mother like daughter. 

We start towards the exit, 40's librarian still with her 100-yard stare and Loretta jamming out again, hitting some crazy moves and I know it's Micheal Jackson playing in her earbuds on account of  the occasional 'woo' and 'hee'.

Just as we are about to leave, from behid me, thrust upon me is the dreaded "Hiya!" 

I turn around, exasperated I see the one and only Anthony, hands on his supenders. Yes, suspenders. A fedora sits up on his head. Not on it, but on his hair, elevated by his red curls. He's smiling wider than a shark, and happy as a lark. Woah, maybe my destiny is in poetry. 

"Hey.." I mumble, voice so disspointed I sound like I just lost the 7 years war. Loretta is confused, as she's never had the pleasure of meeting the oblivious menace. 

"I learned how to do this amazing trick, some guy did It on dancing with the stars you wanna see? Oh, who's your friend? You both wanna come to my dorm and watch a documentary, it's a good one, oh anyway, here's my trick, weehee!" He does an obscurse twirl, ending it with bowing and taking off his fidora, and a grin even bigger than the original one before it. 

Loretta's jaw is beyond on the floor, it's run away from her. I just stand there like a sleeping horse. Once I'm sure he's done with his little X-factor auditon, I take Lorreta's hand, since she's in disbelief that this person is real. 

We get outside and lean against the car, she re-starts her argument about why I caught her reading that fantasy, relaying her case like I'm Judge Judy. I roll my eyes. "Just admit you're a sap." 

"I am not a sap." She stomps a foot. 

"Do I need to recall you sobbing over that book about the florist and the lumberjack your mom sent?" I smirk. 

"Do I need to recall that you stood up in your criminolgy lecture when your phone rang and yelled 'It's a sign'?" 

I hang my head, the sound of hyena laughter echoing in the parking lot. 

Back at the dorm, I'm staring down the blondie poster once again. Her brown eyes keep turning into Kori's. I bury my head in my pillow, kicking scratching and biting the truth. 

Loretta knows just by looking at me. 

"Averen and Kori sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,  first comes Blondie, then comes desire for  marriage, then comes Averen in a pit of despairage."

Note to self: Do not look Blondie in the eye.