The Cliche Gone Wrong

Chapter Thirty-two

I quickly drop to my knees, nearly crawling over to the most recent publications. 2012...2013...2014...Ah 2015! Our freshman year!

Just as my fingers wrap around the edges of the book the bell signaling the end of lunch rings. The library jumps into life before the sound is even over, the scraping of chairs and echoed sounds of laughter following the students out of the large open space and back into the hallway.

I pull the book for the 2014-2015 school year out anyway and sit with my legs sprawled out in front of me as I start to look through the yearbook. Who cares if I'm a few minutes late to class? I don't even know if I'm going to even go yet.

I slowly flip through the pages, occasionally stopping to look at one of the sports or club pages as I make my way to the student pictures in the back. The graduating seniors are up first, and then come the juniors, and then sophomores. I stop on the first page of the freshman class.

Maybe if I call Killer by her first name she'll start talking to me again.

I furrow my eyebrows at that thought. Why do I care so much if she talks to me?

I think back to the past week of what its been like to be alone again. But I'm not really alone. I have all of my friends. The only time I'm alone is at home, and I've barely even been at home over the past week, spending most of my time at Alan's or with Connor or anywhere but that empty house.

My parents should be back any day now. I mean, it's been two and a half weeks since they left. Or maybe instead I'll just receive a deposit in my account like that'll last me another month. This wouldn't be the first time that happened. Maybe it would be best if they just stayed away. I'd rather come home to an empty house everyday than one that's full of people but empty of anything worthwhile.

I shake those thoughts away, gripping the first page and starting to flip toward the H's.

"Lunch is over. You'll have to leave the library now."

I look up to see the source of the voice. A youngish looking woman, with bone- straight, jet-black hair peers down at me, leaning over one of the small bookshelves I'm hiding behind.

"Yeah, I'm just looking at a book." I smile at her, hoping my charms will make her go away.

"And you can come back and do that after school." She smiles back just as sweetly, her almond shaped eyes tilting up as she ignores my charms. "But you need to leave now."

Why is it so easy for these girls to ignore my flirting? I used to be able to get 50-year-old waittresses at restaurants blush, and 22 year old cashiers at stores give me friends and family discounts. Convicncing this 30-something year old librarian to let me stay a little longer should be no problem. Am I loosing my touch? God, what the fuck is happening?

"Can I check out the yearbook then?" I ask, my smile disappearing when I realize it has no effect on her.

"Yearbooks aren't for check out." She shakes her head firmly, her smile growing as she tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Sorry kid."

I frown at the wide smile on her square face. Is she fucking enjoying this? What kind of fucking librarian likes teasing students?

"Please? Look, I'll give you money." I start to dig in pockets for my wallet, hoping I have some leftover cash in there. "How much do you want?"

"I don't want your money, kid." She laughs in my face. "Actually, I don't even know if I could take it even if I did want it. And if you're so willing to toss it around, why don't you just go buy a yearbook from the office?"

She holds out her hand, and I reluctantly close the yearbook and give it to her. She smiles again as she waits for me to stand up and walk out of the library, and she follows me the entire way. She even waves goodbye before she shuts the door firmly behind me.

I stand outside of the library for a couple minutes, loosing all motivation to go to my government class. There has to be something else I can do. I need to do something to make her change her mind.

I start slowly walking down the hallway, not caring where I'm going as long as it helps me figure out what I can do to make her like me again. There has to be someone who can help me get back on her good side.

I stop in the middle of the hallway again, an idea blossoming in my mind as I look at the label on the big double-wooden doors to my left.

I think I know who I can talk to.

A/N Hey y'all! How is everyone doing? Y'all good? Y'all feeling better now that you got a new chapter?

So what'd you think? Is Jude's pov going the way you thought it would? Y'all think he's sick, or maybe there's some other kind of bug going around! And who do you think he's going to talk to? 

I want to hear your guesses! I love hearing your opinions and reading your comments! I'm also trying to incorporate your suggestions into the chapters, so as requested you'll start getting a little bit more of Shills' point of view!

Let me know what y'alls are thinking!! Oh and also, like, comment, and follow me!

Much Love,

Naomi