library | jmb

20

My eyes shifted from watching the unmoving sticky hands to the scene outside. The snow was higher than I'd seen it in a while. "Do you think that maybe cell phone reception is being affected by the weather?"

"Over a little snow? I doubt it. Why?"

"It's just, I understand why maybe my friends figured I went home and aren't worried. But I haven't called my parents in thirty-six hours now. I'm surprised they haven't been scouring the city for me. They would've called Luna up at the cabin by now. That's where they thought I was. Luna would've told them I wasn't there and someone would figure out I was here. I don't get it."

"Up at the cabin? Like in the mountains?"

"Yes."

"There's probably more snow up there."

"So maybe reception is worse up there?"

"It's possible. If a tower went down or something."

"If they haven't been able to get ahold of anyone, they'd just assume we were all snowed in, right? It's actually happened before—the getting snowed in part."

"There you go. Mystery solved."

"Yeah...I guess."

"Do you have another theory?"

"No." He was right. They were snowed in. My parents assumed I was too. Jacob hadn't opened his trunk all weekend to see my bag. It was the only thing that made sense. Luna was probably sitting up at the cabin with Avi and Morgan, angry that I had bailed on them. We'd all laugh about this when they found out the truth. That I had spent the weekend in a big creepy library. It really was a new adventure for me.

"Where else have you spent the night?" I asked.

Joey was quiet, and I suddenly realized how that sounded without the benefit of my thought process. "I mean, when you don't stay at home and it's snowing out," I corrected.

"This isn't a weekly event or anything."

"I know, but I can tell it's not an uncommon occurrence either."

When his silence stretched on I said, "You're right, you better not tell me or I might show up at your next stop."

That comment won me a small smile.

"There's some churches that are left unlocked sometimes. And I've stayed at the school before."

"Our school? Really?"

Joey shifted next to me, and his shoulder brushed against mine and then stayed there. I didn't move away.

"Yes," he said.

"Don't you ever get scared?"

"No."

"Are you scared of anything? What's the first thought that comes to your mind when I say worst fear?"

He seemed to think about it.

"I said first thought. No thinking, just spit it out."

"Commitment."

"Like to a girl?"

"To whatever. A girl, a cat, a class. What about you?" he asked before I could make him explain more.

"Having no control."

"Over what?"

"Boys, cats, classes."

He smiled.

"I don't know, anything, I guess. Whether a teacher calls on me in class or not. Whether my mom can keep her job. It's irrational, because I have no control over it. But that's the point, I guess. I wish I did."

My butt was numb from the cold, but I sat still, staring at the sticky hands on the glass, willing his to stay for just a few more minutes so this game would last longer. What was wrong with me? Thirty-six hours and suddenly I was craving human contact from anyone, apparently. I leaned on my right hand, breaking our connection. I could see my own breath, white puffs of air, in front of me.

Another section of Joey's sticky hand detached itself from the glass.

"Looks like mine is about to fall," he said, standing up.

"I want to win fair and square."

He backed up. "You will."

"Where are you going?" I asked as he walked away.

"Let me know who wins. I'm cold."

"You can't just leave. What if mine falls?"

"You seem like the type who would let me know that."

"I could lie."

He gave a small laugh as he continued to walk away. "No, actually, you can't."

"Just because you're freakishly good at reading facial expressions doesn't mean I can't lie," I mumbled, but he was already gone and I wasn't sure if he heard me. I wasn't sure why I was trying to claim I was an expert liar or why he made me think that should be one of my goals. It wasn't.
It had taken at least another hour for his sticky hand to fall, followed by mine a couple of minutes later. By that time my hands were numb and my lungs were ice. My chin vibrated my teeth together. I grabbed both sticky hands where they had fallen down to the floor below and went back to the main library. It didn't feel much warmer.

"I w-won," I stuttered out to his reading form, then dropped into the nearest chair, plopping both the toy hands on the table. "In your face."

He smiled. "You're getting better at smack talk." He had the sleeping bag around him. He took it off and held it out for me. When I didn't move, he got up and walked it over.

"Was it worth it?" he asked, dropping it in my lap.

"Depends on your truth."

"Oh, right, what's your question?" He went back to his chair.

What was my question? Wasn't this why I'd waited so long in that icy hall? I'd really wanted another truth out of him. There were so many questions I could ask—how was I supposed to narrow it down to one?

"I'm not all that interesting," he said when I was quiet for too long.

"Just a mystery," I responded, causing him to laugh. I really did like his laugh.

"How so?"

"You're always alone, you disappear during lunch, you never talk, not even in class, and you don't seem to care what anyone thinks of you."

"And here I thought you hadn't been paying attention."

"You're hard to ignore." When I realized how that sounded, I added, "Everyone is always talking about you." My statement went from bad to worse. I stopped while I was ahead.

"Right. So was there a question in there somewhere?"

"Where are your parents?"

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