Page 32 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares (The Society #1)

Georgia

R enfrew’s library shamed every other library I’d been to. Hell, its grand stone walls and columns put most of the buildings I’d seen to shame, including the others on this campus.

According to the guidebook that came in my welcome package, the library was a church in the nineteenth century, which explained the angelic stained-glass windows located at the front of the building. However, I did question what kind of church depicted angels on bloody battlefields.

Other things didn’t seem quite right. The vaulted ceilings, wood paneling on the walls, and fancy crown molding, those were standard.

But the gothic-styled iron chandeliers and gargoyles perched on the roof above the door didn’t give off much of a holy vibe.

Neither did the red maple tree growing in the middle of the library. That thing creeped me out.

I don’t know if it was because it was fall and the leaves were turning red, or if it was the way it almost seemed to loom over the center of the library that I didn’t like.

There was something about that tree that felt unnatural, and that wasn’t my paranoia talking.

Any place that had two entire floors restricted to the general public had something to hide.

“Why are you taking physics?” Rachel tapped one of the textbooks I had on the table. “Isn’t your major geology?”

“Yes.”

My answer seemed to confuse her more. “Shouldn’t you be reading books on rocks and gems and stuff?”

Really? There was more to geology than rocks and gems. “I’m focused more on the volcanic and tectonic activity part of geology.”

“What does music have to do with volcanoes?”

Now I was confused. “What?”

“You said tectonic. Isn’t that the music they play at raves?”

Wow.

“No. Tectonic plates rub together, causing earthquakes and all kinds of bad stuff.”

“Plates cause earthquakes?” Her brow rose. “Those must be some big plates.”

“They are.” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. “Aren’t you from L.A.? Haven’t you ever heard of the San Andreas fault?”

“Of course I have. But I’ve never heard of any plates in there.”

I literally had no words.

“What’s that look for?”

“Thank God you’re pretty.” And thank God her major was fashion.

She smiled back at me. “Thank you.”

Ignoring her, I went back to my textbook, which would’ve been easier to concentrate on if the head librarian, Mrs. Gatch, would stop staring at me. I could feel her eyes boring into my skull.

No one on campus liked her. She was an older lady with a stern face who sat at the large desk circling the tree and glared at everyone like she could read their minds. And whatever she thought she heard us thinking did not impress her.

I’d been in this building almost every day, and I had yet to see a hint of amusement or happiness on her face.

I wasn’t even sure if she ever left this place.

Honestly, if someone told me she was robot, I wouldn’t be surprised.

One thing I did know was that the woman creeped me out, especially when she looked at me like she was now.

I leaned over closer to Rachel, “Do you think she can read our minds?”

She followed my stare and shrugged, “Maybe? I personally think she’s an alien sent down to study us.”

As if she knew we were talking about her, Mrs. Gatch turned her head and narrowed her cold glare in our direction.

I shook off the shiver running up my spine and whispered, “She can hear us.”

“No, she can’t.” Rachel narrowed her eyes back at the librarian. “But she might be planning to eat us.”

“I don’t think she eats.” The misery and discomfort of others were enough to sustain someone like her.

“We wouldn’t have to deal with her if you didn’t insist on extra study time.”

“Extra study time is a good thing.”

Besides, I needed it—stupid Issac and Ravi.

There was no way that I was going to get outshone by a bunch of interlopers who were trying to disrupt my life.

Geology was my thing. They would never understand it like I did.

Someone else could get better grades than I did.

That was fine. But not Issac or any of his friends.

I’d die from lack of sleep before I let that happen.

On the upside, I wasn’t paranoid anymore. I was pissed off.

“History is written by the victor.” I snorted. “That doesn’t have anything to do with unconformities.”

There were no victors in geological history. It was rock and sediment.

Rachel arched a brow. “What?”

Did I say that out loud?

“Nothing,” I muttered and went back to my textbook.

“Why are you being weird today?”

I answered her with an eye-roll.

That right there was the definition of a redundant question. I was always weird, at least according to every single person in my life. My own mother called me awkward on more than one occasion.

“I can’t quite put my finger on it…” she paused to eye me, “But you seem to be… mad or something.”

“Yeah, well, some people think they know stuff when they just memorized parts of the textbook.”

I was currently staring at Ravi’s answer to Dr. Kellerman’s question.

It was right here, word for word. Did it still bother me that he said it before I could?

Yes. Because if anyone were going to memorize something from a book titled Principles of Sedimentology and Stratigraphy , it would be me. Not him.

“Okay,” Rachel nodded. “I get that you’re mad at someone. But I can’t hate them with you if you don’t tell me who it is or what happened.”

This went far beyond her girl world rules. Besides, if I told her who I was mad at and why, I’d be admitting that four assholes who’d never taken a geology course in their life, actually did pretty well.

“Can we forget it? It’s not important.”

“How can you say that?” She scoffed. “We have to hate people together.”

Ugh. Why did we have to do everything together? I was perfectly fine on my own before she came along.

“You already hate this person.”

“It was that bitch Candice, wasn’t it?”

“What?” Who was Candice?

I seemed to have insulted Rachel somehow. Her lip curled as she cried, “Oh my God, Georgia. I told you about that wench. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Pfft, of course not.” I did forget, but if I was piecing this together right, then Candice must be the mystery girl I now had a grudge against. Although I still wasn’t sure why or what she did.

“Good, because that bitch doesn’t deserve a second of your time.”

I had so many questions. What did Candice do? Why did I have to hate her too—that made no sense to me. How did we go from me being mad, to Rachel’s girl grudge?

“I’m going to get us coffee,” Rachel announced and stomped away.

Was she mad at me or Candice? I couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both? Maybe it was neither? But I felt like I should say or do something to make Rachel feel better, but I didn’t know what. Girls were complicated. I missed the simpler times when all I had to figure out was if Jerry was Jerry.

Sighing, I looked over at Rachel, who had already started flirting with a guy in line.

Only she would find a guy at the café alcove in a library.

I called this part the café alcove because of the barista and fancy espresso machine by the back wall.

Why something like that was in a library, I had no idea, but it fit with the rest of Renfrew’s opulence, and I liked how the scent of coffee mixed with paper.

I would’ve preferred going to the right, where the long communal tables and brass reading lamps were, but since Rachel couldn’t keep her mouth shut for more than two minutes—I timed her once—we were stuck in this not-so-quiet corner next to the creepy spiral staircase.

My eyes wandered over to the wrought iron staircase winding up to the next floor.

The way the designer set this place up, the main floor could technically be considered the second floor. The stairs outside, leading to the main door, took you up a floor. There was another level below and two above. There may have been a basement, but I didn’t know.

I was much more interested in the upper two levels and why they were restricted. There were thousands of books, if not hundreds of thousands, in this room alone. With all that knowledge on this floor, what remained to go up there?

I could understand a rare books section or climate control for first editions. But two whole floors? This wasn’t the lost Library of Alexandria, although I was starting to think that Renfrew had just as many secrets.

There was a symbol I’d found a few places throughout the library. A circle of ivy surrounding three interlocking triangles were carved into a couple of the shelves in the occult section, in the corner of the stained-glass window in the back, and on the bottom step of that wrought iron staircase.

None of the symbols was big. If I hadn’t tripped and fallen last week, I wouldn’t have noticed them. Now, I couldn’t stop seeing them. And they weren’t just in here. I’d found that symbol sprinkled throughout campus on various buildings, including my house.

I had no idea what it meant. I couldn’t find it in any books or online searches.

At one point, I thought it might be an architect’s signature, but it wasn’t.

That symbol didn’t exist as far as the internet was concerned.

It was a complete mystery, not one I wanted to solve.

I didn’t care enough for that. I was more curious about what was up those stairs.

“Hey,” Rachel came back with her arm around someone. “Look who I found.”

I looked up at the friendly smile and internally sighed.

Sex appointment Kash. Fantastic.

“Kash was studying over there,” she claimed while plopping down in the chair across from me. “Talk about a coincidence.”

“Uh-huh?” I muttered back at her.

Based on the grin on her face, I assumed this was a planned accidental meeting.

“Hey there, Georgie.” Kash pulled out the chair beside me and sat. “I can call you Georgie, can’t I?”

“No.” My name was Georgia.

“Not a fan of nicknames.” He nodded. “I can respect that.”