You shouldn’t have come here.
I’d assumed that I was invisible, hidden amidst the books during my break. The library had become my solace during the time between classes. I’d chosen a seat in the back of the room, where I was determined to remain unnoticed, my head in a book and my heart trembling every time the doors opened.
The corner was dark and shadowed; the air stilted and dusty from the numerous book piles. The dryness made my eyes ache until they were watering as I strained to read the words on the page.
It was when I’d been about to give up trying, my fallen head buried in my hands, that the note had appeared on the desk. Only I hadn’t realised it was there until it was too late, and whoever had left it was long gone. The sticky note was demure in its size and threatening-qualities, but the messy scrawl had captured my attention long enough to make me look up.
You shouldn’t have come here.
Unsure of what the words meant, my hooded eyes scanned the room for any sign or clue. Unfortunately, I’d chosen the most barren room in the building, and only the middle-aged librarian slumped behind his computer vacated the library.
But then I noticed the girl near the door, her body draped against a hard plastic chair, her high-heeled boots glistening on top of the table. Under the artificial light almost-black hair spiralled down her back, emitting a golden glow that contrasted with her dark skin. Her small body was covered in a combination of dark leather and even darker denim, which made the room around her pale in comparison.
I hadn’t realised I’d been starting until her eyes slid my way, and her lips spread into a red-painted smirk. One large eye closed in a slow wink, before her attention returned to the book on her lap. I continued to stare at her, like a deer in headlights, for a little longer before I realised that I was being creepy. She’d shot a few sly glances at me, and each time that smirk became more amused.
My face was on fire as I hid it behind my book. I scowled at the letters, berating myself. The words that had been spat at my earlier this morning came back to haunt me. I’m such a freak, I echoed in my mind.
“What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Don’t hate on yourself too much - I get stared at all the time.” Her voice made me jump, and the book fell down on the table with a bang. The girl was stood at the head of the table, her dark gaze wild and alive. She tapped finger against her smile, her head tipped to the side. “But they never usually so much.” Each word she spoke was pronounced with a husky, crisp clarity, and what followed it was a laugh that was short and slow. She was calm and collected that she made me feel like a blonde monkey, unable to even string two words together.
“Uh-“
“Do you want to be alone, or is that just an unfortunate incident?” She waved her hand, gesturing to the empty library.
“I don’t know.” The moment I said it, I wanted to slap myself in the face. You don’t know, Rose? You don’t know if you want to be alone or not? I waited for her to laugh at me, to call me a freak and walk away.
I didn’t expect her to pull out the chair, the sound like sandpaper against the tacky blue carpet, and sit down. I eyed her in suspicion, as she began to inspect the chipped black polish on her nails. “I’m Amber Harding, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
I was, but not about the name. Amber stared at me for a moment, expectant, and it was beginning to make me uncomfortable. A dark brow arched as she said, “Are you waiting for a drum roll?”
“Excuse me?”
“As cool as it would be, I can’t read minds.” I just blinked, stupefied, and she gave an expressive eye roll. “Your name?”
My face was alight one more. “R-Rose.”
“Sweet name - matches your complexion.” She winked again, and I started to wonder if she had some sort of twitch, or if she thought it was a joke. At her mention of my blush, it got hotter, and she laughed at the sight. “You are so freakin’ cute.”
I was pretty sure I was older than her; being held back a year in high school because of “personal problems” meant I was older than most people in my year group. It was yet another reason that made me stand out – an anomaly around normal people.
Amber, with her small and dainty features, looked younger than me, but she had a cool and collected attitude that came from maturity alone. She looked up at me under her thick lashed and smiled, and I admit that it did intimidate me. She was beautiful and dangerous all at once.
People like her didn’t talk to people like me. Not willingly, anyhow. “By the way, you’re going to be late for class.” Her words were startling, and my eyes darted to the clock in surprise. It hung limp form the wall, the black frame cracked and coated in dust.
My brow furrowed in confusion. “I have fifteen minutes left.”
She took her time as she shook her head. "Library clocks are always broken. They're almost as untrustworthy as us humans." She didn’t react as I let out a choked cry, and began stuffing my thing into my bag. Her large eyes were sparkling with humour as she watched me dive up, the chair falling to the ground behind me.
I stopped only for a second, to look back at her. “Aren’t you going to be late, too?”
“I would be if I were going to turn up.” I thought she was going to wink again, but she didn’t. I turned away and walked out of the library as fast as I could, my heart racing in my chest. Amber’s laughter trailed after me even after I’d gone.
I was almost at my classroom when I remembered what was in my hand. I looked down at the pale post-it note and shook my head. Somebody’s idea of a joke, I told myself, chucking it into the nearest bin as I ran past.
“What are you doing?”
The second day, her voice made me jump again. The library had been silent until her bold voice had broken through the air. Over the pages of the Bronte book I’d found on the nearest book pile, I could see her watching me. It was unnerving.
I willed my cheeks not to change from their pallor as I raised the book a little off the table. “Reading?” My voice was lost and weak, like a whisper against the wind.
Amber’s nose creased at my answer. “Reading? In a library? How original.”
“Weren’t you reading yesterday?” I pointed out, eyes narrowed.
“Hm, I’d almost forgotten your staring-fest yesterday.” She laughed at the thinly-veiled horror that inhabited my facial features. “Relax, will you? It was flattering. Although I feel that I should let you know now that I don’t really go for blondes.”
“I wasn’t even staring that much,” I lied. Why am I such a freak? “I was just… thinking.”
“About the two of us running into the sunset together?” Amber leaned down on the table with an excessive sigh. “Some things are just not meant to be, Red Rose.”
I was going to correct her about the sunset part, but it was the nickname that caught my attention. I put the book down so I could meet her eyes, searching them for a clue. I only found humour. “Red Rose?”
“Yeah, it’s a nickname.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Your name is rose, and you blush too much. It ain’t rocket science. And neither-” she paused to look over her shoulder, dark waves pooling down the front of her denim jacket with the movement. “Is punctuality. You’re fifteen minutes late.”
My eyes shot to the neared clock, and despite the bent hand, I could still read it. “Crap.”
Amber shrug was petite as she snickered. “Better run, Red Rose.”
At that moment, the nickname was appropriate: my entire face must have been red. My heart felt faint at the thought of showing up to class late. I’d just about made it last time, but now I’d have to walk in to a full room. And then all eyes would be on me. It would like those bad dreams where you walk into class naked and everybody laughs, only I’d actually be wearing clothes.
Again, Amber didn’t seem bothered about her own tardiness. Instead, she just watched as I threw my back over my shoulder so hard that it hit the back of my thighs and almost swung back around. When I left, she followed. Her footsteps were light and bouncy against my fast-paced, clumsy footing. I only got a second to wonder why she was following me, before I began to panic at the thought of being late all over again. But when I turned up at the room, breathless and dizzy, it was empty. My jaw dropped a little in surprise.
My mind went blank, and then it burst, and questions began spinning round and round. Was I too late? Had they moved rooms? Maybe class was cancelled. It wasn’t until I heard the high-pitched gasps that I remembered I had an audience.
Amber was dying. Or, it looked that way. She'd collapsed against the wall, one hand to her chest, the other to her stomach. Air fell from her mouth like a tidal wave.
She was laughing.
"Oh- Oh- Oh my god!" Her head fell back, a tear fell from the corner of her eye. "I can't- believe you- fell- for that!"
I paused. I looked back at the door and it was shut. When I pressed down on the handle, I realised it was locked. The room was dark, but I could still make out the face of the clock on the front wall, and I didn't understand. "Wait, I don’t understand. Why did you tell me I was late?”
She'd finally stopped laughing enough to form a cohesive sentence. "To see the look on your face." Her eyes became huge, her mouth popping open and closed. She was mocking me. "You look like a fish."
"No I don't."
"You so do."
"But – The library clock-“ I stared at her. She stared right back. One confused, the other devious.
“They fixed it this morning. I just wanted to mess with you a little. It was actually a lot funnier than I thought it would be.” She pushed herself away from the wall and shrugged, like she couldn’t help herself. “You wanna sit together at lunch?”
I was still struggling to understand her. “You lied to me?”
Her laughter was loud and boisterous as she began to walk away. “You’ll get used to it,” she yelled over her shoulder, as people began to fill the hallways.
For the next few days, lunch had become a mission to stay invisible. I stuck to my lonely table in the library, and an empty corridor when the library was busy. The corridor was nearby the math’s rooms, meaning not many people came by, especially not during lunch. My hope was that I would blend in with the off-white walls, and it worked, because more than once somebody had almost tripped over me walking past.
My head was ducked as I read from the borrowed library book balancing on my crossed legs, and it was then that I heard somebody clearing their throat. Convinced it had been a grouchy maths teacher wanting me to move out of the way, I looked up with a sheepish expression only to find the darkest eyes I’d ever seen staring back down at me.
Even sat on the ground, she was small. My head almost reached her shoulders. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?” Amber asked. Her expression was surly, but her smile was still warm as she leaned against the wall.
I gaped up at her. “No?” It came out like a question, and she had to bite her lip to stop from laughing. In all honesty, a small part of me had been hiding from her, too. But a larger part of me had also assumed that Amber wouldn’t want to bother with me ever again.
That she was currently sliding down beside me and telling me about how she’d looked for me for three days, was surprising. And also a little confusing.
“Anyway, here. It’s a pizza offering - kind of like a peace offering, only cheesier.”
I hadn’t even looked up, when a greasy paper plate was thrust under my nose, an even greasier slice of pizza plopped on top. “Think of it as a symbol or our burgeoning friendship. Or a bribe – whatever you want to call it.” Her eyes had closed, her head fallen against the wall she became quiet.
As she was still, I stared at the plate and the limp pizza on top. It looked disgusting. I balanced it over my legs, the moisture dampening my jeans. I realised, after a few minutes, that I didn’t have a clue what to say to her.
Amber cleared her throat, the only sound that had come from her since she sat down. "You're quiet.”
"Yeah, I guess."
"I don't like it. You're practically vibrating with everything you haven’t said. It's giving me a headache."
She was beginning to give me a headache.
“It’s like drawing blood from a stone.”
My fingers twitched against the plate, my body becoming agitated. "You're too kind," I mumbled.
With a deep sigh, she turned her attention to the ceiling. "It's my only flaw." Her head fell to the side and she fixed me with an almost ebony gaze. "So, have you made any friends in this shithole yet?"
My answer was a pitiful head shake, to which she grunted in agreement. "Figures. We're just too good for everybody."
That was debatable.
“Hey, did you eat that pizza?” She eyed the full plate and hummed in thought. “Smart. Who knows what diseases that thing has? I don’t want to kill my first friend.”
“First friend?”
“Your parents will be so proud. They’re going to love me.”
I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, tugging at the tight knots. “I wasn’t even aware we were friends.”
She almost seemed surprised at that. “Oh really? I thought the pizza made it obvious, but whatever. So what do you say, we friends or what?
Lost - my words were lost. And so was I, in that dark stare of hers. Before I could even fathom what was happening, I was nodding. It was so slow that it was barely existent, but it still made her face light up. But the wicked grin of hers that followed gave me serious doubts. I debated, for the rest of the afternoon, just what the hell I was doing letting a girl like Amber into my world.
Because out of the both of us, for two very different reasons, I wasn’t sure who was more dangerous.
ns 15.158.61.41da2
