Across the Bridge

Across the Bridge - Chapter 7

Chapter SEVEN

The library was pretty quiet when I stepped inside. Right away I spotted Ruth - the woman Mrs. Walsh had been training - at the desk. I turned the corner before she saw me, tucking into the area with computers. I chose one and sat down, tucking my school bag under the chair.

The library was not air conditioned and it was a strange sort of warm, old smelling scent. But I was used to it, and didn't really mind it. I signed into my Facebook, scrolling a bit. Finally I clicked on Alex's page. The first few first - newest - photos were from Camilla's party that Friday. Lex and Matt, making weird faces. Lex, giving a peace sign, then Camilla, Lex and another girl I didn't know, all smiling. He had been tagged in them. I clicked Camilla's name, bringing me to her page. Her profile picture was her and a girl who looked a bit younger than her. Her page was filled with photos of parties, selfies, friends. I spotted a few photos of her and Lydia, on a beach somewhere. I felt so much jealous suddenly, for this girl I barely knew.

Just as I clicked the X to close the browser, I heard a voice behind me.

"No, I'm not home yet," the guy was saying, and I realized he was on his phone. "Uh, no. I had to stop somewhere. I'll call you in a bit."

His voice stopped suddenly and I was just staring at the computer screen, not blinking, trying to seem completely oblivious. I recognized his voice. I just had no idea if he would remember me.

"Hey," he said, but I ignored it, assuming he was still talking to someone in his phone.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to slip away, far away.

"Hello?" he asked, now coming up right beside me.

I glanced over at him, just with my eyes. It was definitely him, Winston Duke.

"This is so random," he said, going on like I'd said something to him. "I knew that I knew you from somewhere."

"From here?" I asked, straight faced. "I mean, the library?"

"Yes."

"You tried to get in before we were open, like a week ago?" I offered.

"Yeah, that was me." He smiled like this was something he was proud of.

"And then you slammed someone into me at your girlfriend's party on Friday," I added, rolling my eyes.

He hesitated. "You knew that was me?"

I shrugged. "How could I mistake that haircut?"

He stepped back, looking offended. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing. It's just..." I didn't know how to finish the sentence, so I didn't.

He touched it, flattening it a bit and then letting it go back to this weird puffy look. There was less product in it today. "Who use library computers?"

I swallowed hard. That was an insult, even if he was kidding. He didn't know me or my life. He had no idea I was there using the library computer because the library made me feel safe. Or that I had no interest in going home.

"Why are you here?" I asked finally.

All I knew about him was that he was rich and he went to a private school in Chelsea, fifteen minutes away. That did not explain why he was in the library in the East Village. Again.

"Had to return the book for my mom," he said casually. "So, wait. You know Camilla?"

I didn't want to talk to him like this. It didn't feel right.