Read Online The Lake and the Library by S. M. Beiko - Free Book Online Page B

him?
Who
are
you, mystery boy?
    But his eyes, afraid of being lied to, afraid I would disappear in front of them. The teasing, the playing. It felt like this sharp expression of gratefulness for something I didn’t know I had done. He was the one who had saved
me
, after all.
    I’d promised Li I’d see him tomorrow
. I owe him more than I can imagine
, I suddenly realized. More than a promise, anyway. It hit me harder as I walked slower down the sidewalk, the enthusiasm draining into the cracks I stared at. I suddenly felt trapped between two worlds, unable to compromise or cultivate the promises I had made to either one.
    Just him and me
. How would he feel if the others were there? He could say nothing, his silence worse than words.
    I woke up from all the thoughts shuddering behind my eyes like caged moths, and found myself on Tabitha’s doorstep. My hand was poised on the knocker, even though I didn’t even remember putting it there. I was so close, but the hesitation reel had caught into my skin and was pulling me back. I wanted to tell Tabs, I did, but a roughshod series of bad reasons made me drop my hand as I talked myself out of being accountable. I mean, to be fair, maybe her spark had gone out after all. If I gave her this last ember back, this little flicker, she’d expect more from me. So would Paul. Just as we were attempting the cut, we’d be freshly reattached at the hip. Maybe she was right. “You’ve let go, Ash, why can’t we?” she had said, and the words assaulted me, even now. No, I decided. I couldn’t tell her. My poor string of logic as to why I couldn’t, though, was constructed by a careful, quiet shadow, one that wanted nothing and no one else to interfere with what it felt it had so long deserved. I wasn’t willing to see that it was there, waiting in the pit of my stomach, so I let it have its way.
    As I leaped off the doorstep and paced down the driveway, I suddenly felt like I was doing everyone a favour by keeping the secret close. That maybe it would be a better idea to share it later in the game, after I’d left, after the library was a blank slot in an empty town archive. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone anymore, that was for sure, and I never wanted to see that look of absolute disenchantment on Tabitha’s face again.
    â€œAsh?”
    End of the driveway, getaway averted, I jerked to a stop on one foot and pirouetted. There was Tabitha, door open, eyebrow cocked at me. In my blank surprise, I twitched out a smile.
    â€œHey, Tabs. Sorry — I, um. Didn’t think you were home. No one answered when I knocked.”
    Liar.
    She shut the door, barring the dog from leaping out behind her as she crossed the front garden and huffed a curl out of her eye.
    â€œDidn’t hear a knock,” she said. “You could’ve texted.”
    Trapped. “Right. Well. I left my phone at home. Stupid.”
    Still lying.
    We were silent, awkward. Then Tabitha blurted, “I’m sorry for yesterday, Ash. It’s just . . . it’s gonna be hard, you know, when you’re gone. It’s not because of—”
    â€œNo, no,” I sighed, smiling, glad the ice was finally melting, “it’s okay, Tabs. I understand. It’s okay.”
    Looking away, eyes misty, she shrugged one shoulder and the subject dropped dead away into the concrete beneath our feet. I abandoned the stupid idea of not telling her about the library, my resolve cracking. I wanted to heal that heartbreak lining her face and wordless mouth. I pawed around in my bag for my pile of Polaroid Band-Aids — my own remedy for the soon-to-be wounds.
    â€œHey, I wanted to show you this,” I said, fingers scrounging in excited plunges past my camera. They hit the bottom and found nothing else. I paused and kept looking, nearly putting my entire head in there, but my bag was empty, save one picture I looked at guardedly: the