The Homecoming Benefactor

8 | the book

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I spent a few hours organizing the bookshelves at the library as my on-campus job. It paid next to nothing, but it was flexible and didn't ask much of me. I would usually put in my headphones and use it as my time to think about life.

Wednesday was filled with torrential downpour, which created a calming effect inside the library. It was the perfect day to listen to some sad songs and get all philosophical. The palm trees swayed in the wind of the storm, making a rustling noise that paired gently with the sound of the heavy rain.

My work was never truly done in the traditional sense. I would pick an area in the library, organize the books for a few hours, and then clock out. Most people didn't know or care where the books went, so there was always a mess somewhere, no matter how much I accomplished each day. It was mundane yet peaceful.

It was a rare occasion that I ever saw Glenda, the head librarian, at one of my shifts. Before today, I think I had maybe spoken four words to her. Today was the fateful day she decided to have a full conversation with me for the first time.

"Hey, Miss Frances," she cooed, sitting down in a rolling chair near the aisle I was working on. "How are you adjusting?"

"Thanks for asking," I replied, turning around from the shelf I was working on. "I did this in high school, so it's really just getting used to how much bigger this library is."

"Is your daddy Chad Horn?" That was a really random question for Glenda to ask me.

"Yes, ma'am," I responded, nodding my head.

"I knew I recognized you from somewhere," she laughed, leaning back in the chair. "Those commercials, I still get them sometimes. That must have been a long time ago."

She was referring to the commercials my dad had made for his car dealership about ten years ago. Lucy and I were both in them, I guess to create an image that it was a family business. Why would my dad still air those? I had no idea.

"You know," she said, looking out the window, then looking at me. "I think you'd make a pretty good librarian."

"Thanks, Miss Glenda," I beamed. "I'm actually majoring in English education."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, we have a great graduate program here!" Glenda winked at me before walking away, hunched over her cane.

•••

After an hour or so of arranging the science fiction area of the library, I heard a loud "THUMP!" from behind me. A dictionary had mysteriously fallen to the floor. This aisle didn't even have dictionaries in it, so I immediately knew it was something suspicious. When I picked it up, a slip of paper fell out, and it looked like it had been crumpled up a million times.

My brain immediately went to those Facebook posts where people claim they saw someone die after lightly tapping a milligram of fentanyl on accident. Then, it went to the posts about how kidnappers can leave little papers behind to track you or something. Great Oak was a pretty white trash town outside of the college, but I had never considered something super crazy happening. To be fair, I had never seen an actual news outlet report that, only girls I graduated from high school with that are now in pyramid schemes.

For some reason, my immediate reaction was to repeatedly kick the paper until it opened itself up, which went about as well as you would imagine. I forced myself to get over whatever qualms I had and opened it up. The message was scribbled in red marker, and it read:

"SEE YOU AT LIP SYNC, SLUT."

I wondered who in the world I could have pissed off enough to receive that message. Maybe, somehow, it wasn't for me, and someone had accidentally thrown the dictionary from a mysterious location at the wrong person.

Another note fell from the ceiling, dwindling down like a snowflake in the wind. It read, "I'M BEING SERIOUS, BITCH!"

"What the hell?" I wanted this person to know that I was confused.

One last note blew down the aisle like a tumbleweed. "SLEEP WITH BRYCE OR GET EXPOSED."

I stood stunned in the middle of the aisle for a few minutes. "I'm gonna clock out."

• AUTHOR'S NOTE •

This was a short but very important chapter. Someone is out to get Francie, and it may or may not be the same person who is writing the secret admirer notes. Is it even someone she knows at all?

What's going to happen at lip sync? Find out in the next chapter of The Homecoming Benefactor!