Behind the Stacks

She heard the footsteps rounding the corner and she knew it would be him. Firstly because he was sure to notice her failure to show up for the economics class they had together, and secondly because he was the only one who knew she came here. "Here" being the small, humid room at the back of the library annex that housed all the overflow of underused books. There was also the sound of the footsteps themselves. Each clomp of an oversized skateshoe sounding out between long silent intervals, indicating his wide, loping strides. She saw his mop of hair in the doorway first, followed by the sound of Bob Marley wailing (pun intended) from his earbuds.

He took in the sight of her. Sitting Indian style, eyes wide like she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her cheeks were flushed either from tears or from the heater coughing up dust behind her. He sighed and set his backpack down beside her, and himself beside that. He tried to fold his daddylonglegs like hers and she smiled when he gave up and stretched them out straight in front of him.

"So?"

"So he's gone. I mean he's not GONE, he's still around, but his whereabouts don't concern me anymore."

"He was a dick, everyone told you so. You're way too good for him."

"But even so," she said, pivoting so that she sat facing him now, "isn't love supposed to make you not want to be a dick anymore? Why does no one want to stick around for the "getting there"? The hand holding, the helping? They just want to lurk on the edges until you're shiny and fixed and new. Hard part averted."

She knew he would've stayed for the handholding. He knew she knew, so he didn't say anything.

"Better to know that now. Besides, he was a pretentious music snob." He added the last part knowing it would get her going, and it had it's desired effect. She snorted as she rummaged through her bag.

"How can you preach about something as subjective as MUSIC? And he totally got off on it." she unwrapped a dumdum lollipop, apparently the object of interest in ther bag rummaging, and popped it into her mouth, leaning her head back against the wall behind her. She sighed and sucked on the candy for a few silent moments. She twirled the stick around a few times and then took it out of her mouth all together, passing it over to him. He promptly started sucking. 14 years of friendship gives you an immunity to cooties.

"Shall we go to our next classes?" has asked, the lollipop resting in the side of his mouth. They had different classes next, he: photography and she: history of American cinema, but she knew he'd stay with her if she asked. But she was ready now.

"Let's," she acquiesced, "I find this particular account of Gothic architecture to be rather boring." She half smiled as he laughed and helped her to her feet. She petted the spine of the book as she slid it back into where she found it. It wasn't really that bad, she liked the pictures.

He passed the lollipop back over, and she slipped it past her lips as they walked out the door.