The Cliche Gone Wrong

Chapter Eighteen

I can't believe I ran after this damn bus. It would have made so much more sense to just drive after her. Because we are going lord knows where, and I have no way of getting back to my car.

What kind of ass backwards bus system doesn't accept cash? Who doesn't give out change? How the fuck do they make any kind of profit? It's not like I tried to give him a hundred dollar bill of something!

I look out the window again, watching the bus roll throughout town.

"Where are we going?" I ask, my curiosity finally getting the better of me.

"Oh shit," she gasps, looking at me like she totally forgot I was there. "I can't go to Asha's house with you with me."

"Asha?" I question, wrinkling my nose as I try to figure out which one of her friends that is.

She frowns at me, before rolling her eyes and looking back out the window. She taps her fingers nervously along the her thigh. I reach out and grab her hand, trying to calm her jitters, but as soon as my fingers grasp hers she jerks away, cringing into the window as she gasps loudly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she laughs awkwardly as she forces herself to relax, although she keeps the leg closest to me over her other one. "I don't know why I did that."

I try to smile at her but I can't even pretend to. The only thing that runs through my mind is what Alan said at the diner after she left. She's not afraid of me, right? She's not doing this out of pity. I didn't constantly torch her her, did I? My friends were the ones that were being assholes. I didn't even start the whole Killer nickname! I mean, I barely even acknowledged her! But when I did....

Maybe I wasn't the nicest.

Maybe that's why she flinched, and doesn't even really like me. Because I might not have been as bad as Connor and some of the others, but I certainly wasn't the best.

I watch her reach up and pull the string to alert the driver for the next stop. He pulls to the side a minute later, opening the back doors for us to walk out. I step out of the bus and look around trying to pull myself out of my feelings. She looks around too, but not curiously like me. She walks up to the cross walk at the light and presses the button waiting patiently for the little green man to appear.

"Where are we going?" I ask, looking around to see where we could be headed. She smiles slyly as she refuses to answer.

Instead she crosses to the other side of the street and starts approaching a two story building, the faded brick and numerous cracks on the outside making it seem as if the building may crumble at any moment. She walks up to the heavy glass door and pull sit open, holding it out for me as I walk in behind her. The cool air from the A/C unit hits me immediately, making me wonder why they are running the air conditioning in February.

As I focus on the layout I see books everywhere. Bookcases line every wall and some stand tall in lines throughout the middle of the room. Gaudy bright colored carpet decorates the floor and child sized chairs surround equally as small tables. The place is empty though; making me think that maybe they're supposed to be closed is someone just forgot to lock the door. I stop inside of the door, hesitant to walk in any further in case someone comes out and asks us to leave.

But Killer doesn't bat an eye, walking past the empty front desk with confidence before turning right to head up a staircase. I follow behind, another question on my lips but I don't want to interrupt the silence throughout the building. I step carefully on the steps, noticing that Killer moves nearly soundlessly as she climbs upstairs to another book filled area.

The colors are a little more muted here, and the tables are normal sized. But Killer doesn't walk over to sit at any of them. She turns right again, winding through bookcases taller than the both of us as she makes her way to the very back of the building. Finally, there is a break in the bookcases where a four beanbags are laid out on a fluffy carpet, small end tables placed in between each of them.

Killer dives onto the purple one furthest from me, sinking into the cushion as she closes her eyes, her lips parting slightly as she breathes deeply. I stand there awkwardly for a moment before I sit on the deep blue one across from her, making sure to give her enough space where she feels comfortable. Minutes pass and the silence ensues, making me question whether or not I should say something. After a few more minutes I think she fell asleep, so I start get up to get a book from one of the shelves.

"Why are you sitting so far away?" She asks as she finally opens her eyes, looking at me teasingly. "Afraid I'm gonna bite?"

I laugh at her joke, the sound bouncing off of the shelves and echoing around the entire floor. I prepare to stand up and move closer to her but she waves me off.

"No, it's okay," she closes her eyes as her head flops back once more, "you can stay over there."

"Why are we here?" I ask as I plop back into the same beanbag before she can fall asleep again.

She doesn't open her eyes as she answers me, her legs spreading wider as she sinks further into the beanbag. "I'm still trying to figure out why you're here, actually."

She leaves it at that for a few seconds just enough to make me question whether or not I should keep sticking around her.

"I'm not ready to go home just yet," she continues just as lazily. "And no one really comes to the library in this town since they opened the Barnes and Noble. So I come here to escape from my family or work or school or whatever, and get some peace and quiet."

I nod, looking around at the scratched wood of the shelves and faded blue carpet all over the floor. The room smells almost musty, like a couple of the books were dipped in water and no one bothered to replace them. I hold back a sneeze as I try to get comfortable in the lumpy beanbag.

"So Killer, d--" I start, trying to think of something to bridge the silence. She laughs before I can say anything else, not even opening her eyes as she addresses me.

"You still haven't figure out my name?" She laughs again as she shakes her head. "You do realize we've gone to school together since 9th grade, right? You can just look it up in the yearbook if you wanted, or even ask anyone that we go to school with and they can tell you."

"Oh." Every time I asked someone who she was they always just said "Killer", not even bothering to learn her real name. But the thought to check a yearbook honestly never crossed my mind. I should have done that in the fucking beginning! Could have solved so many problems...

Instead of talking to her again I just sit quietly, playing on my phone while I let her relax and get some peace and quiet. Fifteen minutes later as I'm scrolling through Instagram I hear soft snores coming from the bag. I look up to see her head completely lolled back as her mouth hangs partially open. I can't believe she trusted me enough to fall asleep around me.

My eyebrows rise in surprise as I slowly get up from the bag, walking over to get a closer look at her now that she is asleep. Her face is relaxed, not pinched into a scowl like it normally is at school or stretched into a smile like I often see when she's with her friends and family. It's a new part of her I haven't been able to see before, making me wonder what else there is that I'm missing out on.