Cedar Valley High's library was a large, two-story room with high ceilings and tall windows. Bookshelves lined the eggshell white walls, and tables and chairs were scattered around the room. There was also a computer lab in the front, with 50 monitors of state-of-the-art tech. I had never been to the library on Saturday before, and was surprised by its vacancy. A few stragglers were there preparing for the end of second quarter exams.
No wonder Penelope wanted to meet here. It was the perfect hideout.
I attempted to follow the directions in her note. Yes, she gave me a note. A handwritten note at that. Her cursive was almost illegible. I walked right until there was no more right to go. There was a door labeled "Archives". I twisted the knob and used my phone's flash to navigate down the dust lined steps.
"Penelope!" I whispered, afraid the air from my mouth would blow dust bunnies every which way.
Every step creaked. I ducked under a low hanging spider web. When was the last time a custodian was done here? Were they aware this place existed?
"Penelope doesn't exist here," A whisper pierced the darkness.
Is she serious?
Lights flickered on.
Penelope sat at an old teacher's desk staring at a 20 inch monitor. Her ginger hair was tied into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. She wore an all black getup. "Call me The Archivist."
My fear dissipated, transformed itself into hilarity. I held my stomach, it hurt from the laughter. "Call. You. What?"
She didn't find it amusing. She prompted me to sit down and offered me a cup of tea. I wouldn't accept anything from her. Nothing from her was free. Everything came at a cost. We discussed my decision to take her up on her offer.
Her hazel eyes turned into saucers, "You made the right choice."
Did I?
I was starting to believe my unwavering loyalty wasn't normal.
Would Wyatt go these lengths for me?
Was I doing the right thing?
The questions swirled in my brain. I mentally pushed them to the back of my mind. Penelope cast her hook into me and escaping without getting hurt wasn't an option. She had a network of people under her thumb. The fact that I was even here was information I couldn't let anyone find out.
I lifted a heavy wooden chair and carried it to the desk so I could sit.
"Can I ask you a question?" she closed the tab. She swiveled in her chair, giving me her undivided attention. Her curious eyes lingered on me, analyzing me, evaluating me. What was she thinking?
"Sure," I nodded. I was already here. What else did I have to lose?
"When I offered my services to you, you shot me down. What changed your mind?"
Wyatt's tear stained face at homecoming.
I experienced an overwhelming sense of wanting to protect him. Wanting to solve all of his problems. He needed this. I needed to do this for him. It was weird actually, I felt like I was being a mother to him instead of a friend.
Zeriah would love to pick your brain about that.
I explained that I needed to find something out about someone, and it was impossible for me to ask him directly. And it was time sensitive.
She took notes using an ipad. Her hand flew across the screen with precision. Only she could read her cursive. She sipped her tea slowly. "Just curious,"
I replied, "Desperate times call for desperate measures." That was the truth. Plain and simple. Wyatt was desperate for answers and approaching "The Archivist" for help was my last resort. Well, my only resort.
Penelope pulled a projector out of the closet and displayed her monitor's screen on the opposite wall. It was a series of images from Kenna's socials. A mind map. It didn't stop there. Heidi, and Alice's socials were featured too. This was starting to look personal. What had I gotten myself into?
She pointed to the first item on the list. "Kenna's having a private party next weekend. You need to get invited. I already made a list of ideas, but," She paused to look at me. Revenge kindled behind her eyes. "Tell me Zaydence, how would you infiltrate this party?"
Infiltrate? Is she a secret agent?
My heart was pounding in my chest. "I'd ask her if I could go?" my voice wavered with uncertainty. This was a test I hadn't studied for. No, it was a test on a topic I'd never been taught.
"Wrong. It's a private event. She'd be suspicious as to how you figured out there was a party in the first place. Try again."
"Ask her about her plans for the weekend?"
"Wrong. You're giving her room to lie. Come on, think. The answer's inside of that pretty head of yours. Just find it."
She thinks you're pretty?
"Complain,"
She quirked an eyebrow, "Continue,"
"Complain about how I have nothing to do over the weekend. Invite her to hang out with me. She will try to decline without hurting my feelings. I'll ask her if she has plans, and she'll feel guilty about turning me down and will invite me to the party!"
Penelope nodded slowly. "Not bad. Appealing to Kenna's sympathetic side. Not bad at all."
A huge part of myself regretted what was happening, fearing the damage I could do. The small part anticipated the results of the experiment. We were playing Alurozor—the creator of life—manipulating people's choices for a higher purpose. It was a game to her; she was an expert.