The library. I stalk this girl. The one with the eyebrow ring. Some phantom. I realize I was only in here once before. On a tour, senior year.
Swipe my card at the door. It is bigger, brighter, than I remember.
Find out from the work study guy. Some regressed-hippie behind the long desk near the check-out. He tells me about a secret study-room party.
“People do it,” He says. “It happens at least two times a month.”
They throw him fifty bucks to run lookout up here for them and sort of pretend to turn a blind eye. That and they throw him some pretty sick painkillers. He's on them, right now. He chats with me.
“That’s great but have you seen her in here tonight?”
He digs his fingernails into the skin of his brow.
Creepy Library Guy, closes his eyes. He’s silent. I wonder if he’s thinking or narcoleptic.
“I think,” he says. CLG opens his eyes. “I think I’ve seen her in here tonight. Couldn’t say when, though. Maybe she’ll be at that party.”
I’ve been searching the floor for her with my eyes, but at this, I turn and look at him.
“What’s it going to take for you to tell me where the party is?” I ask.
“Twenty bucks,” he tells me. His face is cool, set.