Page 83 of Another Day (Every Day 2)

I’m about to give up when I see a row of desks by the window. There’s a redheaded boy sitting at one of them, reading a book. He’s completely lost in it, not noticing me until I’m right next to him. I notice that he’s cute in an adorable way, and at the same time I get angry at myself for noticing this. It shouldn’t matter. I need to think about A and not care about the

body he’s in.

“Ahem,” I say, to lead him back from the world of the book he’s reading. “I figured you were the only kid in the building, so it had to be you.”

I’m expecting a smile. A glint. A relief that I’m finally here.

But instead the boy says, “Excuse me?” He seems supremely annoyed that I’ve interrupted his reading.

It has to be him. I’ve looked everywhere else.

“It’s you, right?” I ask.

I am not ringing any bells in this boy. “Do I know you?” he asks back.

Okay. Maybe not. Maybe A’s in the men’s room. Maybe I’m at the wrong library. Maybe I need to stop walking up to strangers and assuming they’re not strangers.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I just, uh, am supposed to meet somebody.”

“What does he look like?”

Now I’m going to seem like an idiot. Because I should know the answer to that question, but I don’t.

“I don’t, um, know,” I tell the boy. “It’s, like, an online thing.”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

There’s no way this boy is over eighteen, so I shoot back, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I can’t,” he says. “There’s this really amazing girl I’m supposed to meet.”

I’ve already told myself to start walking away, so it takes a second for me to get what he means.

I’ve been played. By the one person I didn’t think would play me.

“You jerk,” I say.

“Sorry, it was just—”

No. I will not let him apologize. “You jerky…jerk.”

I’m going to start walking away. I’m going to go. We’ve never had rules, but he’s broken one anyway.

A’s standing up now. “Rhiannon, I’m sorry.”

He’s reaching out, but I don’t want it.

“You can’t do that,” I tell him. “It’s not fair.”

He will always know what I look like. I will never know what he looks like.

“I will never do it again. I promise.”

It’s not enough. “I can’t believe you just did that,” I say. “Look me in the eyes and say it again. That you promise.”

He looks me in the eyes. We hold there for a second.

Now I can see him. Not literally. It’s not like there’s a little person waving inside his eyes. I just know he’s there.