Fake Fiancée
He propped himself against the counter. Clad in skinny jeans, Vans, and a black waffle Henley, he caught the attention of several girls who walked by.
“I can run to the Student Center and grab you something if you want?”
“Nah, that’s okay, but thank you.” I smiled. “You’re one of the sweetest guys, which is kinda funny with the Mohawk and piercings . . .” I blushed remembering exactly what was pierced according to Isabella. “Not that I judge people by appearance, but you know what I mean. You kinda look like a—”
“Thug?”
I laughed.
“I’d do anything for you, Sunny. You introduced me to everyone you knew right off the bat. That was cool. You’re a nice person—like deep down I see you’re always looking out for others.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “You’d do anything for the people you care about.”
Bianca and Felix waltzed through the door. She wore a pair of dark sunglasses on her face—even though the sun had set—and as far as I could tell, she didn’t even glance over at me as they headed to the study carrels in the back.
Fine by me.
Ash’s eyes bounced from her to me. “She’s leaving you alone now?”
I nodded. “Won’t even look me in the face.”
In class, she avoided me at all costs I’d noticed too, her face remote and cold, waiting until Max and I had left the room before she even picked up her books.
“Good. If she starts anything, let me know.”
“You gonna fight her for me?” I ruffled his hair.
“You bet.”
He left to go upstairs and I got busy scanning the books in the drop box and doing the usual tasks before closing up. Pam, my manager, popped out of her office and reminded me I needed to head downstairs to the basement to take a cart of discarded books the library had removed from the shelves.
I cringed at having to go down to The Dungeon, as we called it.
I checked my phone.
Max had texted me. It had been over a week since our sleepover, and things were different between us. Softer. We hadn’t gone beyond kissing, but every brush of his fingers, every heated glance he sent my way, made me weak.
The Walking Dead premiers tonight, he’d written.
Why can’t you watch normal TV? I replied.
Like The Bachelor? Please. All those guys are bastards.
Keep your shirt on, I texted. You’re just jealous.
Whatever. Pick you up soon. Meet me outside the library?
K
Knowing I was going to see him gave me the motivation I needed to head down with the book cart. One of the first buildings on campus, the library’s employee elevator was ancient and hadn’t been renovated when the upstairs had been constructed. I got in the small space, pushed the button for the basement floor, and whistled on the way down. The motor made a grinding sound, like the wires holding the thing were rusted. The place was the perfect setting for Max’s zombie show.
The door slid open and I stepped out gingerly, my hand immediately going to the light switch on the right of the cold concrete wall. One of the florescent bulbs blinked annoyingly, like it usually did, and made a metallic clanking noise that sent chills straight up my spine. I glared at it. One of these days, I was going to come down here and this place was going to be pitch black. I made a note to tell Pam that maintenance really needed to check the wiring in this place.
I wheeled the cart past dusty discarded desks and study carrels to a hallway that led to a series of locked doors on either side. All were storage for various items. I unlocked and entered room 105, the biggest storage area and the room where everything went to die. I felt sad for every single book there that would never be read again. During the day, when I didn’t work, I imagined it might be a pretty cool place as sunlight poured in from the ground-level windows near the ceiling. But at night, it was dark and musty, chocked full of metal shelving, rickety chairs, and an eerie padding sound which I took to be the vibrations from the heating and air system. Or maybe it was the footsteps of the patrons above me. Either way, the place gave me the heebie-jeebies.
I shoved a doorstopper in place with my foot and flipped the light switch. And just like last week, this one didn’t work at all. The maintenance person was slacking. Luckily I was prepared. I clicked on the mini LED flashlight I’d bought at Wal-Mart when I started this job and stuck it in my mouth as I used both hands to push the cart to the back of the room.
Using my flashlight, I walked down the dusty aisles, shelving the non-fiction books in the correct Dewey Decimal order. It was taking longer than I thought it would. The library closed in ten minutes. Getting worried she might forget I was here, I tugged out my phone and typed a quick text to Pam, then shoved the phone back in my pocket.
I’d just shelved a book about Egypt when I heard the creak of a distant door. My stomach jumped to my throat. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone down here but me.
A soft shuffling sound echoed from the main part of the basement, and I stilled.
An image of a giant rat flashed through my head.
Then a gnarly-looking spider with fangs. Ugh.
The door to my room slammed shut, and I screamed, the shrillness shattering the eerie quiet of the room. My hands clenched the cart, shoving it out of my way as I ran for the front of the room. The flashlight fell to the floor in my haste.
A laugh pierced the quiet after my scream, the sound muffled by the door between us.
I twisted the knob but it wouldn’t open. A rattling sound came each time I shook it, and with a sinking feeling, I suspected what the flashlight confirmed when I looked through the rectangular window on the metal door. A chair had been pushed up under the handle, locking me inside.