“No.”

  The single word was heavy inside the closed room.

  Ryan stood up. He didn’t look at Melissa and tilted his chin toward Jane.

  “I’m going with her.”

  Imagine someone who conserved their energy for the entire time, only to use it all in one moment just to cause chaos. All six eyes suddenly snapped towards Jane.

  Melissa’s blush faded as she realized what had just happened. It was a rejection, plain and simple. Very upfront. Very brutal.

  “Are we done here?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Jane answered instinctively, while the others were still processing the sudden outburst.

  “We are classmates.” She added quickly. “He was probably shy.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He reappeared from the doorway, standing just across the table. His eyes lingered on her for a split second before he bent down to retrieve his coat from the floor. He swung the jacket over his shoulder, and though there was distance between them, Jane felt the cold air brush against her skin, like someone just slapped her.

  “I’m fine,” Melissa said. Her little smile calmed Jane down, drawing the burning heat of embarrassment away.

  If Jane had any illusion of a beginning for a teenage romance, it would be dead by now. Ryan didn’t pick her because he liked her; he picked her like someone picking an object.

  So why, out of everyone, did he choose her?

  ***

  Finding a schedule wasn’t that easy for both of them. Monday couldn’t go, Tuesday wasn’t it, and Wednesday they might never even meet the deadline!

  “We’re literally stuck in this school. How are you so busy?” Jane snapped. “And no, don’t tell me it’s studying.”

  Jane knew for a fact it wasn’t. She had seen his scores, and she wasn’t impressed.

  Ryan looked up from his usual nap position, with his head resting in his arms. Seeing her this worked up was almost entertaining enough to forgive the interruption. Almost. It also reminded him that he had completely forgotten about this baggage.

  “Fine,” he said with a small sigh. "Let's go right now.”

  “Right now?”

  Jane spun around, her eyes following him as he stood up and brushed past her toward the door.

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Yes… but not that urgent…” Her voice grew smaller and smaller as she followed him anyway to the library.

  This wasn’t the first time Jane had been to this place, but the beauty of the architecture still forced her to take a step back.

  Polished oak wood grounded the library, covering it in a dark and cosy atmosphere. From above, arch domes poured down from the ceiling, separating the long and endless lines of bookshelves that ran over the place like a maze.

  The lighting on the first floor was intentionally deprived. There were no harsh ceiling beams, only small, focused accent lights casting gold onto the book spines and some green glass lamps placed on the study tables.

  Then the sharp ting of electronics pulled her back.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Ryan turned to Jane, his index finger hovering over the massive tablet.

  On the screen, a red line mapped their path.

  SEARCH: History and Traditions

  LOCATION: Zone C (West Wing)

  Jane was blind when it came to direction, and this also applied to the four directions of the Earth. Thankfully, she had him. Without Ryan, she would have been wandering until she saw a giant letter “C”.

  They navigated through the empty corridors until they reached the West Wing, where more lines of shelves waited. This time, she noticed the smaller tablet placed right beneath a statue with a brass plate: Lucien North Wing.

  How interesting. Her last name was his first name. Or the opposite, she supposed, since he was born a century first.

  Maybe she should visit the library more often, to take a deeper look at his features, because now wasn’t the time to dive.

  Ryan was staring her down. His hands were buried in his pockets while his back leaned against the wooden shelf, waiting for her to work the magic.

  Jane typed one of the keywords the Vice President gave her.

  SEARCH: The Tenth Attempt

  RESULT: 0 matches found

  Jane frowned; her fingers glided faster on the screen. Call of the Abyss. The Abyss. Events. December.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  RESULT: 0 matches found

  She pressed her lips together. This was one of the search engines that didn’t show a thing when searching.

  “Done yet?” he asked. The word impatient was written on his forehead.

  “Hold on….”

  Her brain and fingers worked in sync, scrolling rapidly through the titles until something caught her eye. They weren't the exact name, but they were close enough.

  She tapped the titles. The small screen blinked and resolved into a crisp location map.

  “Found it,” Jane breathed, memorizing the positions. “Row 9-Shelf 4, and Row 6-Shelf 3.”

  His eyes stayed on her for a moment before he pulled his hands out of his pockets.

  Jane caught a break. She thought he would tell her to get them herself, or worse, say no.

  He moved. With two long strides, he reached the first shelf. His arm stretched up, his wrist bent slightly under the weight as he pulled a thick, leather-bound book out.

  Jane left the tablet to carry the book, but he didn’t hand it to her. He just grabbed the second one from the second shelf in the same manner.

  “Are you sure this is it?” Ryan said. His eyebrows slightly furrowed even before he spoke.

  “Yes?” Jane answered. Her voice pitched up at the end as she waited for him to tell her she was wrong.

  But Ryan didn’t say anything. He switched direction and headed straight to the spiral staircase, the books tucked under his arm like they weighed nothing.

  Jane followed behind. Their footsteps blended together, one lighter than the other.

  The second floor connected directly to the third floor through a massive central lightwell, an open atrium that allowed sunlight to fill the space by day and the moon to cast its glow by night. It was, perhaps, the school’s most humanistic design.

  Thud.

  The books were dropped onto a table a few steps away from the stairs.

  No one spoke, but like a silent agreement, Jane sat down and opened the first book: History and Traditions.

  She quickly scanned through the table of contents, passing the Introduction, History, and other unimportant things until she found it: Call of the Abyss.

  She turned to the page. It was filled with text, but the stream of black ink stopped abruptly in the middle of the sheet. Jane slightly paused. She prayed that the information she needed was all there.

  Call of the Abyss: a three-day event from December 29th to 31st to celebrate the end of the year.

  So it was a New Year celebration, despite the strange name.

  Jane continued reading.

  On the first day of the event, students gather to celebrate all kinds of art forms. The night is spent feasting, dancing, and socializing. Nothing much, another type of ball for the students of North Wing.

  She gripped the edge of the paper, turning it eagerly for Day 2’s description. But even before the page settled, she knew something was wrong. The light from the green lamp shone straight through the paper, revealing no ink on the other side.

  Empty. And only more empty pages as she flipped.

  When words finally reappeared, the subject had switched entirely to “Architecture of North Wing.”

  She went back from the beginning of the book, turning whole chunks of pages at a time, to the end. The air blew against her face as the white gaps flashed by, interspersed throughout the book.

  The paper was crisp. The binding was tight. It was too new for something so old, and now she knew why.

  This book was a decoration, a sanitized version printed specifically for the human. Jane frustratedly closed it and reached for the second one.

  The Tenth Aethyr.

  It was the closest match given the keyword, but a quick scan proved her choice to be wrong, again. It was a story about two men journeying into the middle of the desert to face a demon.

  Interesting, but useless for now.

  With another thud of the book being closed, Jane raised her head.

  Ryan was watching her, one head propped lazily under his chin. Contrary to her messed-up hair from the frustration of the hunt, Ryan looked like he had just woken up from a beauty nap, relaxed and charged.

  “What’s the other book?” Jane asked, cutting straight to the chase. She was certain he knew something. His question earlier, his skepticism about her book choice, was not a coincidence.

  ‘’Lucien’s diary,” Ryan said.

  Jane’s mind flashed back to that title, something she had saved for later.

  “And what are the activities for the other two days?”

  He didn’t answer as quickly as before. His eyes drifted down, landing precisely on her chest, on the red ruby leaves pinned to her uniform.

  “You should know that better than me,” he said.

  Jane went silent. She understood the implication.

  “Thanks,” she said, lifting her chair. “I’m gonna go get that book.”

  Jane walked back to the shelves, her head was low. As grateful as she was for his help, she couldn’t help but doubt his purpose. He wasn’t the one who needed this trip to the library; she was. He was just… observing.

  She found the title among the list.

  Lucien’s diary.

  STATUS: Checked out.

  POSSESSION: The Theurgy club.

  The memory played back in her mind: “Find the Theurgy Club if you hit a dead end.”

  Why couldn't anyone in this school be straightforward? She groaned internally. Now Jane wanted to hit herself against the wall. She had wasted her time, everybody’s time, and worst of all, his time.

  Jane went back to their table, where the two books sat alone, and an empty chair in the opposite direction.

  He had left.

  Jane moved toward his chair. She reached for his jacket while still balancing the heavy library books on her forearm. Why didn't she just put the book down first? She didn’t know. It was too late now.

  She lifted the coat, intending to fold it over her arm.

  Then clink.

  Something slipped from the jacket and hit the floor.

  Jane looked down. A shiny object lay alone on the dark wood, a silver necklace, with a silver bullet as its pendant.

  She finally set the books on the table and bent down. The bullet was cold and heavy in her hand. Its silver body was intricately carved with an eight-winged sun symbol, and fine gold inlay filled the grooves of the design.

  A unique piece of jewelry, fitting for a one-of-a-kind person. She couldn’t imagine him wearing a snowflake necklace. Actually, she could. Jane stifled a silent giggle.

  Thump. Thump.

  Footsteps echoed from the staircase.

  The giggle died instantly in her chest. She quickly slipped the necklace back into the jacket pocket, exactly where it belonged.

  “Forget this?”

  She turned to him with a forced smile. Her neck was tense while her back straightened instinctively.

  Just in time. Thank God.

  He took the jacket from her arm and slipped his hand into the right pocket. Jane watched the fabric shift, his knuckles moving around as he felt for the weight. Then, he withdrew his hand and checked the other pocket.

  Jane watched as he wore the jacket and turned away. A long-held breath finally escaped her lips. Everything was fine.

  “You put it in the wrong pocket.”

  Jane froze. She swallowed hard; her throat was dry. She was ready to defend herself, but the moment her lips opened, she caught his little smirk, a flicker of genuine amusement.

  Then he disappeared down the staircase, leaving Jane standing alone under a sky of stars.