Page 14

Keahi

It’s almost 1 am and I’m still trapped in the library.

Malia and Aiden surprised me here since it is Saturday evening, and I expected them to be anywhere else.

Once more, I couldn’t slip away before they blocked my escape route.

I wanted to rip my ears off when they started making out and almost lost my temper when I heard their fight.

She can handle herself, I reminded myself, but, damn, if I didn’t want to go over there and burn some sense into Aiden.

I might be an ass, but I’m an ass willing to put my reputation at risk to beat up a bitch that can’t take no for an answer. Before I could react, Malia took matters into her own hands like I knew she could, and my anger quickly simmered down. In the quiet that resumed, I went back to reading my book, although half of my mind replayed the occurrences of the night.

Hours later, Malia is still in the same place and it doesn’t sound like she is about to leave.

I don’t blame her; I wouldn’t want to go back to my roommates after such an encounter either, but I don’t want to get detention for being out too late.

So, I consider my options.

I could stay here and risk getting caught by a teacher. Then, I would get in trouble and Malia would know I heard everything.

I could just casually walk by her and pretend like nothing out of the ordinary happened, but I wouldn’t know how to act toward her.

Being mean doesn’t sound as appealing as it usually does, I’m not one to kick a beaten puppy, but anything else would be unnatural and awkward.

Maybe no one checks the library for students.

That is wishful thinking but not acting at all seems quite tempting right now.

So, I stay in my corner in the library, waiting for Malia to leave as the clock chimes 1 am.

I’m still waiting by the time it chimes one thirty.

Around two am, someone opens the door.

I hear them taking a few steps inside, but before my heart can start racing, the lights go off and the door locks.

Damn, that was easy. I’m about ready to call myself lucky when I realize that my flashlight is still on from when I read underneath the blanket earlier. I freeze, cursing mentally as I fumble with the button to turn it off.

Finally, the light goes out with a klick, and I’m swallowed by complete silence.

It’s like both Malia and I are holding our breaths.

Then, after a beat, I hear the softest of footsteps coming forward.

Thoughts of trying to evade her briefly cross my mind, but I choose to stay where I am.

It only gets weirder if we play hide and seek now.

“Hello?” she asks softly once she stands in the aisle in front of me.

She hasn’t recognized me.

There is a small window at the top of the wall my back is propped up against, and the soft light of the night illuminates her face slightly. Right now, she looks kind of beautiful in the pale light, even with the worried expression on her face. I can’t even fight the thought.

“Relax, Princess,” I break the silence, sounding somewhat defeated.

I was stuck in this corner for hours, all so I wouldn’t be faced with this awkward moment.

Now we’ll be locked in here all night and it’s already awkward.

She releases a sigh of relief and walks toward me, her shoulders visibly relaxing now that she knows she’s locked in here with me.

I wonder who she thought was back here if I seem like the better option, but I don’t dwell on the thought.

It’s well known that while she hates me, I’m no threat to her safety and I guess that’s enough. I am sitting on top of the windowsill. Half of my fluffy blanket is underneath me and half is covering my legs. She scans me and my get-up for a beat.

If she comments on my blanket, all bets are off.

I won’t be nice if she shoots the first shot.

She must know it too because she doesn’t mention it.

“What are you doing here?” she asks as she sits down a few feet away from me.

Why on earth she doesn’t just turn around and walk away, I don’t know.

“Well, this is a library so you can guess three times,” I reply, my voice lacking its usual menace.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Since when are you here?” she goes on, but she already knows the answer, I know she does.

“Came here after dinner.” More silence.

Skies, this is awkward.

I almost wish we’d been caught by a teacher; consequences be damned. At least then we wouldn’t be forced to have this unfortunate conversation.

“What are you reading?” Her voice is suddenly a pitch happier as if she’s trying to convince me she is fine.

I almost tell her not to bother with the act.

One, we just sat in silence for four hours as she processed her humiliation, and two, I don’t care. Sure, there was that small nagging voice in the back of my head trying to convince me to reveal myself after Aiden’s departure to cheer her up, but that’s probably just the traumatized part of my five-year-old brain that never grew up and still clings to childish fantasies.

Malia and I aren’t friends.

We’re so far from it, she would have probably been more upset if I had tried to comfort her.

The sight of me alone probably makes her itch with annoyance. I’ve given her many reasons to despise me over the years, after all.

Now, she’s forced to spend hours enclosed in a small space with the person she hates most in the world after what might be the worst thing that happened to her since she came here.

You’d think there’d be no such bad karma for a girl who’s always nice to everyone.

Everyone other than me, but that’s fair.

I try to get a rise out of her every chance I get.

It’s what spices up my days here, not that I would ever admit that to her.

Instead of saying any of that, I simply reply, “Geography of the world.”

She gasps in mock outrage, putting on a show as she dramatically places a hand over her wounded chest.

It’s the kind of playful behavior I only ever see her act out from afar when she’s with her friends.

I don’t know what to do with that. “You are reading a schoolbook? On a Saturday night?” To my surprise, a chuckle slips past my lips at the sight of her arched brows.

There’s something weird in the air.

It must be the darkness shrouding this room we’ve never knowingly been in together.

It feels different to be here with her than the pristine white rest of the academy. Tentatively, I keep the conversation going.

“What’s your choice of the night?”

“I already forgot the title but some crime book.

It’s not catchy though.” She lies on her back and stares up at the ceiling, getting comfortable.

Does that mean we’ll keep talking? A weird feeling expands in my stomach. She wants to keep talking? I shake myself. It’s not like I want to talk to her, so why would I care what she wants.

“Do you ever miss the outside?” she asks softly, changing the topic out of nowhere.

Despite myself, I keep engaging her.

“No.”

Malia pushes herself up slightly and looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“That’s a lie,” she states before lying back down.

“Is it now?” I retort, bemused.

“Yup.

You always press your index finger against your middle one when you lie,” she says casually.

Stunned, I look down at my hands to find that she is right. I relax my hand and look back up, trying to mask my bewilderment with an unimpressed look. I can’t seem to keep up with this girl tonight.

“Magicians aren’t meant to reveal their secret.

You shouldn’t have told me that.

Now I can stop it the next time I lie to you.” The soft sound of her laugh rings through the quiet library.

“I don’t think you could.

It’s an unconscious habit you’ve had for years.

Besides, you have other tells.”

“You really sound like a stalker now,” I state, not sure what to do with the knowledge that Malia’s been paying such close attention to me.

She seems utterly unconcerned as she keeps dropping truth bombs on me.

“Maybe, but I know you’ve been watching me too.”

“And what makes you think that?” I keep my voice dry even though I don’t hate what we’re doing right now.

The only time we ever talk is in training, and it’s barely ever more than two sentences and exclusively reserved for vulgarity.

This feels oddly civil, and it’s nice for a change.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a conversation this intriguing.

She’s keeping me on my toes with her randomness, and I find myself enjoying it a lot more than standard small talk.

Aiden has no idea what he’s talking about calling her boring.

“I can feel it.

It started after the janitor’s closet incident, right? At first, I thought I was paranoid, but then I got the same feeling every time you were in a room with me or when you stared at me in training.” Her voice is casual, but the content of her sentence is quite confusing to me.

“You can feel it when I look at you? That’s impossible.” She apparently finds my reaction very amusing because she chuckles.

Meanwhile, a foolish part of me makes my cheeks heat at the prospect of having been caught staring.

No matter the malevolent intentions behind it.

“You are looking at me right now,” she says, still staring at the ceiling above.

I tear my gaze away from her and focus on the closest bookshelf.

“Nice try, now you aren’t.”

I have absolutely no idea how it is even possible or if she is just pulling a prank on me.

I don’t like the thought of her knowing exactly when I look at her, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to the small shiver of excitement at the news.

I’ve got a seriously conflicted brain when it comes to this girl, and I can’t explain it.

The two of us fall into silence again but I don’t mind.

“Seems like we have a long night ahead of us,” I state after twenty minutes, shifting on the windowsill to ease the growing pain in my back.

“I’ve never actually been to the second floor, want to show me?” she asks as if she just thought of it.

Her voice is still a pitch too high and at this time of night, my no-bullshit tolerance of the day has already been breached.

It’s all I can do not to say anything. Just be for unfiltered for once, I opt to screaming internally.

“I don’t, but the hope of you falling down the stairs is enough for me to put that aside,” I lie, falling into my old routine with her.

“Funny as always.

Come on then.” She jumps off the windowsill and looks at me expectantly.

I groan and get up after her. The second floor is half as big as the first so you can look down at all the books below. There is a railing at the edge of the floor to keep people from accidentally falling down the ten feet distance to the first floor. Other than that, they look identical.

“Happy?” I ask, walking ahead of my company and toward one of the aisles on the second floor.

“Malia?” I turn back around when she fails to answer, only to find her standing in front of the railing and looking down.

Then, with a swift movement, she heaves herself up and sits on it, letting her feet dangle in the air.

“Don’t do that,” I say, instinctively taking a step toward her.

As if that would help if she fell.

“I love heights,” she mutters dreamily.

“Yeah same, especially when you fall down a great one.

But right now, I’d have to listen to your whining for hours if you got hurt and I don’t want that.

Get off.” The words tumble out like a reflex, and she turns around with a grin on her face.

“Are you scared for me, Keahi?” she teases me, ignoring my jabs.

Slowly, she takes her hands off the railing and raises them for show.

“You are acting like a child,” I grumble, even as I take another step toward her.

She tries to turn to look at me, but I catch the exact moment something goes wrong and she loses her balance.

Time slows as I watch her slide forward.

My instincts take over before the scene has even fully registered to my brain, and I lurch forward, quickly grabbing her waist and pulling her back so she sits steadily again.

By the time her hands have latched onto the railing once again, my heart is still racing.

I don’t dare let go of her.