AUGUST

My eyes narrowed at the text message Brandon sent me. He asked if I was willing to meet up with him after my library community hours to have a smoothie. His treat. He knew I loved smoothies. What was he up to?

Brandon was my best friend since the second grade. Our friendship meant the world to me because Brandon knew me just as much as I knew him. Which was why I was so suspicious of his cryptic text of meeting up with him. It was different than what I was used to which was always—and I mean, always— GIFs that fit the subject matter of the texts. This time, though, there were no GIFs, no emojis, no witty banter. It was... odd.

The only time I remember Brandon sounding so serious was when we were ten and his dog, Mittens, was hit by a car and succumbed to its injuries. Brandon was devastated. He'd raised Mittens since she was a puppy and the one time Brandon wasn't able to walk her himself because of a dentist appointment, his parents asked their next door neighbor to walk the dog as it was something Mittens was accustomed to each day.

Brandon's mom didn't tell him until after his appointment on their way home about the dog. She had gotten a call while in the lobby and they rushed to the vet's office where the neighbor had taken Mittens. The woman had accidentally let her grip on Mittens' leash loosen too much and Mittens jammed into the street just as a car sped by.

Brandon cried when he ran a whole block to my house, telling me what happened. My parents took us to Brandon's house where I slept over so we could stay up all night until Mittens fell asleep and didn't wake up.

I couldn't think of anything that would be bothering Brandon like that. That's what worried me. But I tried to be casual with my response. I typed back: Sure. Everything OK? He replied some seconds later, which meant he had been waiting on my reply. He said: Yeah. Just really need to talk to you about something.

Cryptic. I sighed, brows furrowed and replied to confirm I'd meet him in an hour as I needed to clean up the library and lock up.

As my choice of location for my school community hours, the library was always a great spot for me to catch up on homework or see what new books were in. Which wasn't often. So homework and studying usually occupied my time unless a student or school staff came up to the counter.

I was required to spend six hours a week as a librarian assistant. It was organized with the librarian who took my studies into consideration. Ms. Calvin, the librarian, was always a cheerleader for education, so when she heard I was looking to add community hours to my application for colleges, she offered me the position as 'library assistant'.

I really didn't do a lot. I just sat behind this counter with the main computer holding data of every book in the school library. There was some extra assistant tasks like re-organizing the books back on the shelves and keeping the students from being too rowdy but honestly, there wasn't much to do. It was a nice break though from the rowdiness of school. I liked my classes, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I just needed a break.

After pushing send, my gaze flicked up from where I was standing behind the main counter of the library, and looked over where there was a wide span of tables and chairs students would use for studying or whatnot.

Per usual, there was the same student sitting at the same table at the same days and time. She was always here until closing when I had to inform her that I needed to close up. She was always a good sport about it though; nodding and smiling at me before getting up to pack up her belongings. I didn't really see her around school which meant that she had to be a freshman or sophomore. For Juniors and Seniors, classes didn't run that often with the younger grades which were on the upper levels of the school.

As always, the female student was at her usual table; books spread out all over and papers everywhere with her notebook in front of her. She was scribbling, pausing to look at a book to read and then scribbling again. So studious.

I grinned, remembering how I did that too. Still do, actually— with the exception of Brandon forcing his way into my room and yanking me away from my books to help me "get a life". He was joking, of course, but he did have to remind me now and again that colleges wanted a "well-rounded" person not just a Brainiac.

Seeing that I was not going to get her attention with that laser-focus of hers, I hopped off my swivel chair and rounded the counter to head to the table. I smiled, shaking my head as she still didn't notice me.

"Boy, you take studying to a whole new level," I joked, startling the girl as her brown eyes widened then she lifted her head to see me smiling at her.

Her brows furrowed a second and scrunched her nose. "Sorry?"

I raised a brow, tilting my head a bit. "I said you take studying to a whole new level."

"Oh..." Her brows furrowed again while observing her work space. She blushed, looking at me and apologized.

I shook my head, corners of my mouth tugged downward. "Don't be." I pulled out a chair and sat across from her. With a glance at her as I pointed at one of the books, I questioned, "May I?"

She nodded, smiling a bit. I took one of her open textbooks and turned it around so I could see what class it was for. "Ah..." I raised a brow, admiring the colorful post-it notes she scribbled on and stuck in various places on the pages. "You have Stautermeyer." I flipped the page, finding more post-its.

"How'd you know?" the girl asked, her brows furrowed again when I glanced up at her. I grinned, flipping the page. And, yes, there were more post-its.

I sighed, turning the page back to where she had it and returned the book in front of her. "Took Stautermeyer's AP Psychology class as a freshman." Her eyes widened, and I chuckled while mentioning with a nod to the stack of sticky notes she had. "My room looked like I took on three homicide cases at once."

The girl laughed, covering her mouth and I shrugged that it was okay to laugh. I told her that I could laugh about it now after passing the AP Exam with a 5. "She's a hardcore teacher but a master all at the same time," I commended.

"I really want to take her AP Psych class next semester," the girl said.

My brows rose, craning my neck forward. "Even after I told you that my room looked insane with all my post-its and assignments hanging on my walls?"

Grinning, the girl shrugged. "I actually really like her teaching methods."

"That makes one of us." I smiled, reaching over to extend my hand to her. "I'm Paige."

"Shella," she supplied, shaking my hand and smiled. "You work here?"

My nose scrunched, nodding to the side. "I wouldn't say work since I usually will spend a good twenty minutes swiveling in circles in my chair." This made her laugh. "But I am actually in here for community hours. To spice up my college apps."

Shella's eyes widened, craning her neck forward. "You're a Senior?"

I asked if I didn't look like one and she told me I didn't. That she thought I was in the same grade as her or maybe a Junior.

"That's a new one..." I mumbled, crossing my arms and leaned back in my chair.

The girl blushed, apologizing that she didn't mean to sound rude but I waved it off, assuring her that she wasn't. I actually explained that I got told I looked like I belonged in college already because of how tall I was and grew in to my features a lot faster.

Shella smiled, nodding that I was really pretty.

"Aw..." I tilted my head. "You're such a sweet liar. I love it!"

Although a sophomore, Shella was nice to talk to. She was quite mature for her age which was refreshing. Most of the younger girls were kind of annoying to talk to because they couldn't hold a conversation long enough unless it had to do with boys.

Shella looked around, frowning as she seemed to notice she was the last one in the library. When she looked at me, she blushed, asking if I was closing up.

I nodded, glancing at my watch. It was 5:30 exactly. "In thirty minutes, actually. Maybe a little longer since I was talking to you." I stood up, watching her do the same to gather her things. I waved her off, telling her to chill and take her time. "Like I said, I still have time and still need to make my rounds."

"Do—do you need help?" she offered.

I raised a brow, blinking at her until shrugging, "Um... sure, I guess?"

I made my way back to the counter to grab my copies of the library keys and headed for the door to lock up. It was a safety precaution Ms. Calvin had for me because I was the one who stayed after school a few hours.

"Are you expecting anyone to stop by for you?" I asked out loud as I was locking the door then pushed against the metal bar to check it was secure. Shella mentioned her brother was supposed to pick her up in a bit but that he might run a little late.

I nodded, heading back to the counter to grab a blank piece of paper and wrote with a sharpie:

Got your sister. If you want her back, bring pizza.

P.s. No pineapples, you psycho.

I glanced to the side where Shella was reading over my arm. Her nose scrunched as she read my note then the corners of her lips tugged up, eyes bright as she told me how my note would not set well with my brother; that dark humor wasn't exactly his forte.

"Then I have done my job," was my resolved answer then I head back to the door to tape the note with the words facing the window so Shella's brother could read it. Facing Shella, I clapped my hands, nodding, "Right then! Let's start in the back and work our way back up front, hm?"

With an extra pair of hands, it was so much faster to get the library tidied up. Shella was across the library and we were talking so loud that every now and then I would holler, "This is a library, Shella! Inside voices!" and she'd holler back, "This is my inside voice!"

We were in the middle of laughing when there was banging on the window, muffled yelling and a startled Shella snapping her attention towards the front of the library.

"What the noodles is that?" I grumbled, finishing putting back a book on the shelf.

As I was making my way up the aisle, I heard Shella groan, "It's the Pineapple Psycho..."

Frowning, I realized she meant her brother because of my note and we made our way up to the front of the library.

A muffled, "—until I kill him! I know you're in there, Whitmore! Touch my sister and you die!" was heard through the closed entrance.

My brows shot up as I slowed to stand beside Shella in the middle of the library. When I side glanced the sophomore, I noticed how she winced, groaning that "this was embarrassing" and that she should have "texted her brother way earlier".

"I take it your brother is pretty uptight," I prodded.

Shella pursed her mouth, shrugging a shoulder. "He's just overprotective, is all."

I nodded, heading towards the counter for my keys and huffed, "Right... Like I said, uptight." before going over to the library doors. I frowned at the person slamming their fists on the door. "Alright, alright! Stop banging on the door, will you? You're going to break it!"

I tried to peer around the paper I taped up but was too busy trying to wiggle the key into the lock to open the door. The moment it clicked unlocked, the door was yanked open and a six foot form of fury stormed in, demanding to know where "he" was.

Frowning, I crossed my arms and scoffed as I eyed the back of this tall outrageous person and informed him that I couldn't help him when he was so irate and that maybe when he calmed and decided to act like a normal, polite human being I can understand who he was looking for.

When the boy spun around, I recognized the irritated face scowling at me. He was in a few of my classes which was why I was a little perplexed to see one of the "kindest" students on a rampage.

"Where is he?" Zade growled through grit teeth. His brown eyes darkened.

Frowning, I blinked and craned my neck back. "Where's who?"

Rolling his eyes, Zade whipped around and gave his sister a look. "Where is he, Shella?"

Shella pursed her mouth to the side, raising a brow as she seemed to be thinking over her brother's words before a light bulb went off and the sophomore groaned behind her hands. She scowled at her brother, snapping back, "Zade, you giant Doofus! There's no one here but Paige and me!"

She frowned at her brother that 'Grayson' was nowhere near the library and it was the safest place for Shella to be because it was a repellent for the junior boy. Shella gestured to me, raising her brows. "I was in here helping Paige. She's the librarian's assistant and was kind enough to let me stay in here while I was waiting for you to stop by."

Shella raised a brow, pointing out to her brother that he happened to be coming from football practice and Shella figured her brother would appreciate her waiting inside the whole time. Zade, still frowning, argued as he pointed to the door that leaving a note like that on the glass after what they talked about earlier wasn't very funny! It scared the crap out of him.

The brother and sister were going back and forth again; something about Shella knowing better than to scare her brother and then there was Shella sighing that she was sorry but that she wasn't even thinking about this 'Grayson' person when I wrote the note.

"Paige was just trying to make me feel comfortable for having to stay here by myself." Shella gestured to me and that's when Zade decided to turn his attention to me.

When he looked over his shoulder at me, I raised a brow, untucking one arm to give a short curt wave and crossed my arms again. Zade blinked once... twice... then I noticed his gaze did that thing boys instinctively do when they look a girl up and down. But it wasn't in the perverted way. It was just a curious kind of way. Not sure that was any better, to be honest.

"Why would you write something like that?" Zade frowned, scolding me that talk about 'psychos' when I wrote a ransom note on the door.

Though it kind of stung to be called 'psycho', I tried to ignore the heated blush on my face. Frowning, I crossed my arms tighter and shook my head that it was just a joke.

"Well, it wasn't funny!" Zade narrowed his eyes. "I was really worried about my sister!"

Shella glanced at me, pouting before telling her brother that it was her fault and that she should have told me about what happened, and that Shella should have texted her brother as a heads up.

I took a deep breath, feeling a lump in my throat from being scolded like a child. Mr. Popular thought it was okay to get all high and mighty because of his school status but in this library, I ruled this literary realm and he wasn't allowed in it... with the exception of school hours from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., Monday through Friday.

My jaw clenched as I felt myself tearing up at being blamed for however many footballs were shoved up Mr. Quarterback's ass. I didn't even know why I was crying really but I cleared my throat and nodded to Shella that it was okay, that is was my fault. I gave Zade a pointed look as I directed to Shella, "I'd hate for you to be around someone so psychotic."

Without looking at them as I headed for the doors, I shoved it open and gestured, "I think you guys need to go. I have somewhere to be and I still need to finish locking up."

I didn't want to look at them when I felt so embarrassed. Not sure why I was embarrassed to be honest. Maybe it was because I didn't think there were people who were so uptight they'd make me feel bad about my joking around. Regardless of my feelings, perhaps I shouldn't have written the note as I did. Although I was just kidding, I wasn't aware of some serious situation that happened for the Jock Head. It involved his little sister and I guess I should have taken Shella little more seriously when she said her brother wouldn't be happy with my note.

"Paige?" I heard Shella speak softly and I glanced at her. She looked worried, telling me that she was sorry but I held up a hand, forcing a smile.

I shook my head, telling her to not worry about it. That it was my mistake and lesson learned. I glanced at her brother who looked to be coming down from his inflated rage but that only was making me feel worse. So I gave a small smile to Shella again and asked if she could grab her stuff so I could lock up. I was even waving them out towards the open door for them.

Shella sighed, turning away to grab her bag where she left it on the counter and started heading out. She looked at her brother and grumbled, "The least you can do is apologize for freaking out but I think it's best we just go." She stomped out of the library and I watched her go before glancing to the side to see her brother was still inside.

"What?" I shrugged with a scowl.

Zade's nose scrunched, rubbing a hand behind his neck and I couldn't help glancing at the way his bicep flexed against the short-sleeve of his shirt. I blinked hard, shaking my head.

"Listen..." Zade approached, a blush painting across his face. "I... I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. I—"

Pursing my mouth to the side, I realized that he was struggling to apologize which made me wonder if he didn't do this often. But why would Cedar Prep's Golden Boy, Zade Ruiz, ever have to apologize for anything?

"Look..." I shook my head, holding up a hand to keep him from going on. He frowned when I told him to not worry about it. "I get it. You were worried. Whatever. I just really need to get somewhere important and I'd appreciate it if you would at least step outside the door so I can close the library." I let him know he didn't have to go home, he just couldn't stay in here.

His brows furrowed as he was walking towards the exit and the moment he stepped outside, Zade turned around. "I really am so—"

I cut him off by slamming the door, quickly locking it without looking up at him then ripped off my stupid note and turned away. I grabbed my belongings from behind the counter and decided to escape through the back door of the library.

My phone was vibrating in my pocket and I had to stop once I exited the library to see that it was Brandon. He was asking where I was; that I was late.

I typed back:

Sorry. Got caught up at the library. Omw now! Order me a Banana smoothie?

Thirty seconds after my text sent, Brandon replied:

I did. HALF AN HOUR AGO. So I drank it. It was gross.

I grinned, shaking my head as I was rushing to my car. Brandon sent one more text after his last one:

Just asked for another smoothie.

I look like I'm drinking my sorrows away. Hurry yo ass up.

After another short reply that I was on my way, I pocketed my phone and rushed to my car. As I was clicking my seat belt in, I turned on the engine then through the windshield saw Shella and her brother heading to his car.

Shella seemed to be saying something as she was shaking her head and pointing at him and then at the school. Zade stopped, pointing at the school then at his sister. Shella tipped her head back, throwing her hands up in the air and decided she was losing the conversation so she opted for turning away and throwing open the passenger door to sit down before shutting it closed.

I pursed my mouth, watching Zade run his fingers through the front of his hair. He shook his head, turning to walk around the back of the car to his side. When he was by the door, Zade happened to turn his head to where I was sitting in my car. Startled, I immediately frowned at him before quickly putting the car in drive and, deciding that my car was warmed up enough, I headed out to meet Brandon.