Illusions That May (Court High 2)

“Wasn’t really a good fit,” he said, frowning again. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” I passed it off easily, turning around and scanning more articles. The boy didn’t move right away behind me, but eventually he moved to the shelves toward the right of me. He placed more books.

“You in school or anything?”

Shit.

I moved my jaw. “Why do you ask?”

A shrug and then a look. “Just wondered. You came in here today when most people who look your age would be at school.”

How motherfrickin’ observant of him? I clicked aimlessly. “Yeah, I’m in school,” I lied, exaggerating what I said to make my school status sound obvious. “You?”

“Mmhmm. College.” He placed a book, stopping. “I’m a freshman at the university a town over.”

“Awesome,” I said, so not awesome. I didn’t really care, and he seemed way too about this conversation right now for my liking.

He lingered. “Where do you go?”

This guy…

“Community college,” I gritted, daring to face him. “I go to the one here. I’m a freshman too.”

I figured this was a safe lie considering he said he went to the university outside of town. What were the odds of him taking a class at the community college if that were the case?

I waited, trying to play off the fact that I very much had damp armpits. I paused for a retort, but when I didn’t get one, the boy turning away, I let out a breath.

“Name’s Ramses, by the way,” he said, gathering a few books off a rolling cart. “You?”

I really didn’t want to give this boy my name, but he was totally bugging.

“December,” I told him. “And Ramses? Like the pharaoh?”

He smirked, shaking his head when he shelved more books. “Yeah, but I don’t know how much of a king I am.”

Being a king was highly overrated, any kind of royalty the same as far as I was concerned. He hit a sore spot with me. Though, unbeknownst to him, and when he came over this time, he was book-free.

“Nice to meet you, December,” he said, smiling a little. His smile faded. “You got fifteen minutes. You can’t be on this thing all day. Sorry.”

Fucking Christ. This guy’s chill could make ice sculptures, but he at least left me this time so I could have those few minutes. I was finishing up when he came through the back again, but this time from a store room. He had a sign in his hands reading “Help Wanted,” and when I asked him about that he stopped his pace. He lifted it. “The librarian is looking. He lives upstairs and wants some help for days when I’m in classes. Why?”

I didn’t necessarily want but needed a job. I needed money, food and working at some place as easygoing as this would definitely help.

“I’m looking for work,” I said, standing. I had my mini duffel bag with me, picking it up and placing it over my shoulder. “If he’s looking for someone…”

“I don’t know,” he returned, that familiar eye on me. He tossed an arm against the shelf. “He’s looking for someone who can handle responsibility. Someone on the up-and-up who can take care of things around here.”

Meaning, he didn’t want a thief, and shaking my head, I turned around.

“Never mind,” I told him, moving to print off the articles I found, then log off. I was done here and would make sure I used the internet at the cafe from now on. I thought Ramses would move along, go to the front of the store and put up his sign, but he didn’t, steps coming slowly toward me.

They stopped. “If that’s you, I can put a good word in, though. What day could you start?”

Eleven

December

Come on. Come on. Juice up. Juice up…