CHAPTER V.
An Unlikely Friend
What draws
people to be
friends is that
they see the
same truth.
they share it.
- C.S. Lewis
Rain splattered against the concrete and wet down the ends of my golden hair. The roof barely hung over the side of the library wall and covered the rest of my body from the rain. It didn't aid in trying me off.
A migraine throbbed against the side of my head and my fingers itched the fabric of my pockets where I used to keep my cigs. I ditched them last night and now I paid the price from lack of nicotine in my system.
Withdrawals were a bitch.
I wasn't sure why I stood in the rain, there was a perfectly warm building just behind me, it's beckon was quite persuasive. But, for whatever reason, I stood outside. Impatient and ticked off.
That is, until she appeared. The girl from before; November. She lifted a rain jacket above her head instead of wearing it and walked briskly toward the building.
Relief washed over my head like the shower of rain that engulfed my head once I pushed off the wall and waited at the top of the steps till she met me at the top. No words past between us, I held the door open and, together, we both rushed inside.
She huffed, clearly out of breath, her almond colored skin was tainted with a rose color when she pulled the coat off her head. It was clear that it didn't do her much good. Her fine hairs on the side of her face were flattened, raindrops coated her glasses, and a dark spot trailed off the baggie shirt around her shoulders.
"Nice weather," I said disdainfully and gestured toward the grey sky. "Is the weather ruining your mood like it is mine?"
"Actually, I'm a pluviovile," she stated simply, wringing out her wet hair and tied it back into a bun. "It means that I lo-"
"I know what a pluviovile is," I hated whenever people assumed I wouldn't know something.
November didn't say anything, instead she pulled her glasses off her face and wiped them dry with the bottom of her sweatshirt.
I could spot a fair amount of freckles dotting along her nose and just below her eyes.
"You're not smoking," she stated once she set her glasses down on the bridge of her nose.
"And you're not texting and walking," I retorted with a grin.
"Did you run out?"
"Yes," I suppressed the urge to cringe at the lie. I still had four cigarettes left and I could the absence of their usual place in my back pocket.
"I left my phone at home," she said, a ghost smile fluttered along her lips.
How interesting. "Coincidence?"
She shook her head, but I caught that smile. "Are you coming inside or will we go back in the rain?"
"I thought you liked the rain," I said, pointing at the sky, but followed her deeper into the library. The smell of pages mingled against the fresh rain scent that clung to my clothes. It was oddly pleasant. "You made that clear just a couple minutes ago."
"I'm fully aware, Apollo," she said and pushed her wet rain jacket against my arms. I frowned at her. "What? I don't want to carry it."
"You're awfully funny," I narrowed my eyes, but instead of giving it back, I threw the coat over my shoulder. The water soaked into my hoodie. I gave a small shiver.
"So I hear," she said, throwing me a smile from over her shoulder. "Why are you here anyway?"
"I'm always here."
"But you're always here to smoke," she inquired, running her fingers along a shelf of book spines. "If you ran out of cigarettes, then you wouldn't show up right? Are you waiting for someone?"
Yes, I thought to myself. And now that I think about it, that someone was you. "Well, I'm checking out a book." I said instead. How lame.
"What book?" She asked innocently, but her focus never strayed from the books on the shelf.
"I don't know, I don't read," it was the honest truth. "It's boring."
She froze. "Boring?" She echoed, the word sounded foreign on her tongue. "A book will only be boring to those of a close mind. Besides, if something were to bore you then you must be a naturally boring person."
"Oh really?" I grinded my teeth. "And you're never bored?"
"Never."
"Then tell me, how does one become unboring?"
"Curiosity," she said with a shrug. "It's simple, curiosity cures boredom."
I shook my head. "Curiosity may cure boredom, but it's curiousty that killed the cat."
She blinked. "Then don't become the cat."
"It's a-" my words turned into a soft chuckle. "Okay."
"Here is my curiosity," she said, and turned on me without warning. "You said you're here to check out a book, and yet, you don't read books. So why are you really here?"
You. "For a book," I repeated, firmer this time. "You say I'm boring. So, I'll become unboring."
"I'm glad I'm such an inspiration," she said, flashing a grin. "And it's exciting, not unboring. That isn't even a word."
I huffed my annoyance. "Pick one out for me," I said, gesturing to the isle we stood in. "I'm sure that you must have impeccable taste."
"I'm sure you don't have a single clue what that word means," she said with satire playing along her mouth.
"I'll look it up with a dictionary then," I said, clicking my tongue. "Well, what book are you forcing me to read?"
"What books do you like?"
"I don't read, remember?" I could feel a smirk on my face when I leaned into a bookshelf and cocked my head.
She pursed her lips. "What movies do you like?"
I thought for a moment. "Horror and mystery."
"How does Stephen King sound?"
"Who?"
"Only the best author to ever write horror and suspence," she said, and wrapped her hand around my arm. With a tug, I obediently followed her down the K section.
She squatted in front of the bookcase, and being the gentleman I was, I kept my gaze away. Instead they landed on an elderly man eyeing her ass from a computer chair. When he saw me, he winked. I cringed.
"I found it!" She cried and shushed me loudly.
I frowned. "I wasn't the one yelling?"
"The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon," she said, shoving a thin book into my hands.
I held up the book. "I said horror, not romance."
"It's not a romance," she said, rolling her eyes. "Read it."
I glanced at the cover, it was dark and naked, there were a set of trees that shadowed the background and a girl with a red and blue Red Sox cap kept her face away from my view.
"A girl must survive on her own inner strength when she gets lost within a forest," said Nova, pointing at the girl on the cover.
I wasn't impressed. "So, what? Is there a monster?"
"Yes, there's a monster."
"You're only saying that to get me to read it," I accused.
"I assure you, Apollo. There is, in fact, a monster. He's referred to as the God of the Lost, and evil entity who leaves bodies in it's path," she said, softly. A gleam filled within her chocolate eyes. "Trisha runs into it from time to time, it's the reason why the book's so eerie. You never know if the monster is real or a pigment of her imagination."
"Interesting."
Her hand dropped. "You don't sound interested."
"Thats because I'm not."
"You'll like it," she urged.
"How do you know that?" I retort. "I'm sure I won't."
"You never know unless you try," she shot back.
"When you try, it only confirms your suspicion," I countered.
"Just read it," she laughed. It was light and airy, like bells but less annoying... Actually, I take that back; it was more annoying.
Why was I talking to her again?
Well, she caught my attention. There was something about her that enticed me, compelled me. Normally I brought someone in my life for amusement, to use them and, once I'm finished, leave them in the trash. Like a book.
Only, I probably paid for the book so I wouldn't throw that out.
At that moment, I wanted to crack her head open and read her thoughts like a script. She was... off, I couldn't put a finger to it.
I just knew I liked it.
_
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AUTHORS NOTE.
Quite a long chapter, I couldn't stop writing it. Out of all the characters so far, who's your favorite? I know there isn't many lmao, other people will be introduced later.
- Noel