Taught: A City's Secrets Novella (3 page)

The door was locked. I tried it again and again, but it wouldn’t budge. Cursing, I walked back up the steps, and tried the door I had just come through. That was locked as well.

Panic started to rise in my gut, but before I let it overtake me, I walked up to the third and final floor. I took a deep breath, tried the door, and nearly kicked the damn thing when I realized that it was locked. I leaned my back against it and let out a long breath, not sure what to do. Like a fucking idiot, I had gotten myself locked in a stairwell, and I didn’t bring my phone with me, because I didn’t like a distraction when I was teaching. I pounded on it some more, but nobody heard me, or at least nobody came and opened it.

Then I remembered her. She couldn’t have been too far from the doorway, and she might hear me if I knocked and yelled loud enough. Hopeful, I started down again.

Before I got further than a step, I heard a door below me open. I hurried my pace, nearly falling down the slick concrete.

“Hey, wait,” I yelled, skidding down and around the corner. Up ahead, I saw Emma coming through the door, and she looked up at me like I was an insane person trying to attack her.

“Wait, hold that door,” I yelled, but it was too late. By the time she realized what I was talking about, the door clicked shut behind her. She turned, a confused look on her face, and tried to push it open. It didn’t budge. She looked back at me and cursed.

I stood next to her on the landing, catching my breath, my stomach sinking, as I realized we were locked in together.

I
couldn’t believe I got myself locked in a stairwell with that weirdo. When I saw him an hour before the end of the night in the sorting room, reading
Dhalgren
again, I wanted to kick him out. I stood there debating what to do for what felt like ten minutes, but I eventually gave up and walked away. I figured he’d leave soon enough on his own anyway, and besides, nobody ever used the room. I put him out of my mind as I went back to shelving, counting the painfully slow-moving minutes until my shift ended.

As I was closing up, for some reason I decided to check and make sure the idiot knew the library was about to be locked. Sure enough, there he was, still engrossed in his book. I couldn’t completely blame him; it was a really good read. Still, he was oblivious to everything around him.

He turned out to be okay. He was an adjunct professor, not a grad student, which made him a little bit cooler in my mind. His name was Jim, and he was a little funny, but still cocky. I offered to walk him out, in case the night guards gave him shit for still being around passed closing, but he declined. I didn’t feel like pushing the issue, and he took off after a nice weird awkward pause.

I couldn’t let myself get hung up on him. It was definitely a coincidence that the two times I had worked on the second floor he’d been in that same room. It was definitely meaningless that I thought he was cute, and felt butterflies in my stomach when I looked through the window on the door and saw him reading stretched out across two chairs. It’s not like I was a little kid or something; I didn’t get crushes like that. I wheeled my cart into the storage room and lined it up with the others, still ruminating about our weird conversation. Without thinking too much about it, I decided to take the back staircase since it spit me directly outside instead of having to walk through the main foyer.

As soon as I pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the staircase, I heard a familiar voice. I looked up, confused, as Jim tore around the corner.

“Wait, hold that door!” he called. I had no clue what he was talking about, and by the time I thought to turn around and push the cross bar, nothing happened. I pushed again and again, and nothing.

“Are we fucking locked in here?” I said.

He took a deep breath, and then let it out. “Yeah, we are.”

“You have to be kidding me. Are they all locked?”

He nodded. “They’re all locked.”

Shit, that had to be a joke. I ran up to the third floor and pushed the door. Locked. I ran back down to the first floor and pushed the door. Locked. I kicked it and yelled, but I doubted anyone would hear me. Jim sat down at the landing between the floors and looked at me.

“Do you have a phone?” he asked.

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“I leave mine at home when I teach. Can you call someone?”

Right, that was a fantastic idea. I pulled my phone from my bag and scrolled through the contacts. I could call Lane, and if she got there fast enough, the night guards could let us out. I found her name and tapped the call button, then waited.

I got her voicemail. I cursed, and tried again. I got voicemail again, cursed louder, and called again. I got voicemail for a third time, and was ready to smash my phone.

“You okay?” Jim asked me.

“I’m fine, but my friend isn’t answering.”

“Is there anyone else you can call?”

I realized how incredibly frazzled I was to be stuck with him. I kept glancing up at him, at his handsome face and attractive smile, and wanted to run my fingers through his hair. Nodding, I scrolled trough my phone, and called Dillon.

“Sup bitch,” he answered.

“Jesus, am I happy to hear your voice,” I said, relieved.

“No shit, I’m fantastic. What’s up?”

“Dillon, please come to the library. I’m stuck in a stairwell.”

There was a short pause. “Are you joking?”

“No, I’m not joking. Me and this other guy are stuck in the back stairwell. All the doors are locked.”

“You and ‘this other guy,’ huh. Is he cute? Should I take my sweet time?” There was a playful tone in this voice. I looked up at Jim, who was watching me intently, and felt myself blush.

“Seriously Dillon, not the moment for jokes. Please just come find a guard and get us out of here.”

“Chill, I’m on it. Dillon, night in shining armor, coming to the rescue.”

I let out a breath. “Thanks Dillon. See you soon.”

“Now go get your flirt on girl,” he said then hung up.

I locked my phone and put it away. “My friend Dillon is on his way.”

Jim nodded, still watching me closely. I felt a little weird to be the subject of such an intense gaze, but part of me liked it, too. I wondered what was running through his mind.

“Thanks for doing that,” he said.

I walked half way up the stairs closer to him, and then sat down, my back against the wall.

“Yeah, I mean, it was either that or spend the night in here with you.”

“I guess that would be horrible,” he said, grinning.

I gave him a look. “You could be a murderer for all I know.”

He laughed. “You could be a murderer too. Or worse.”

“I work here, you’re just a random guy.”

“I teach here, remember?”

“You have a point there, Jimmy.”

He shook his head. “Nobody calls me that.”

I shrugged. “I guess I’ll be the only one, then.”

I had no idea why, but I realized I was flirting with him. Really childishly, too, and I was afraid he would see right through me. I didn’t have much practice if I was honest with myself. I’ve had boyfriends in the past, but they were all temporary, and none of them lasted very long, either. I usually lost interest or I was too busy to put much effort into keeping them around. They inevitably got sick of being second to my studies, and wandered off. I was never very upset about it. At a certain point, getting a boyfriend naturally became a secondary concern, pushed off into the margins of my life.

Not that I wanted this guy to be my boyfriend. As my pulse began to quicken, I realized I wanted something from him, but I wasn’t sure it was a relationship.

“So what are you doing with the rest of your night?” Jim asked me after a short silence.

“Why, so you can stalk me?”

“Just trying to make friendly conversation,” he said.

I glowered at him. I shouldn’t be such a dick for no reason, it wasn’t his fault I suddenly was imagining what his lips tasted like.

“Probably studying,” I said.

He nodded as if that was what he expected. “Like I said, you seem like a good student.”

“I’m not always a good student.”

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and what’s that mean?”

I blushed and looked away. “Nothing, I was kidding.”

“Where are you from, anyway?” he said, changing the subject.

“Valley Forge,” I said. “Pretty small town, not a lot to do out there. You?”

“Lancaster. I know a thing or two about not much to do.”

“That’s pretty much the country.”

He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. It was an endearing habit, and I guessed he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“Yeah, it is. I’m pretty much a country boy.”

“How long have you been teaching?”

“Not long, actually. I needed a career move and gave teaching a try.”

Teaching college courses wasn’t your typical “second career” kind of job. He must have been either incredibly talented or really well connected to get an adjunct position teaching classes without some prior experience.

“How do you like it?”

“Better than managing a café,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“You’re too cute to be working at a café,” I heard myself say.

I had no idea what came over me, or what I was thinking. I probably was too busy picturing what it would be like if he stripped off my clothes in the shadows on the first floor and went down on me then and there. I wasn’t the type to fantasize about some random guy, but there was something about his proximity, the way he carried himself, and the books he read. I was attracted to him without even realizing it.

His face broke out into a large grin, and I blushed. “Thanks, I think.” he said.

“I mean, the people working at those places. You know what I mean?” I didn’t know what I meant, but I hoped he did.

“Totally. I’m taking it as a compliment.”

“Sorry, that was weird.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re the perfect amount of cute for a library.”

I laughed. “Now what does that mean?”

“Not sure, but it’s a compliment.”

“Obviously,” I said, grinning. I felt less embarrassed, and also a little flattered.

Part of me wanted to squeal like a teenager, and part of me was totally disgusted that I was excited by this random guy calling me pretty. It was a totally exciting and confusing moment, with the fact that we were locked in a stairwell together only intensifying everything.

“How’d you end up working in the library?” he asked.

“Luck mostly. I like to read, so I applied. That’s pretty much it.”

“Fascinating story.”

“Why’d you start teaching?”

He looked away. “Not sure, honestly. The head of the music department is a good friend of my dad’s, so he called me after I applied, and things went from there.”

I nodded. “That makes sense.”

He looked at me oddly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, teaching college isn’t really a fallback career, you know?” I said, trying to explain.

He nodded, a small smile on his face. “You’re absolutely right. I’m really lucky.”

“I’m sure you’re a good teacher, too.”

“You don’t have to be a good teacher to run a college course, but it helps.”

“I bet all the undergrad girls throw themselves at you.”

He gave me a wicked smile at that. “Like you are?”

“Oh yeah, you wish. You’re too old for me.”

He looked offended. “I’m not old.”

“What are you like, thirty?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Thirty-five.”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“You’re practically in the grave.”

He laughed. “Okay, what are you like, fifteen? Still listening to Justin Bieber?”

“I’m twenty-one,” I said proudly.

I was old for my year because my birthday fell right on the line between my grade and the grade above, and my parents decided they’d rather me be older than younger compared to my classmates. I also didn’t want to admit that yes, sometimes I did listen to Justin Bieber, thanks very much. “Baby” was catchy as hell.

“You’re practically in diapers.”

“I’d rather be in diapers at a young age, than diapers at an old one.”

We both broke out laughing at that, and the tension diffused. He really didn’t look twenty-seven; I would have guessed a few years younger. His face was boyish but handsome, and his clothes, although meant to evoke a serious professor-type, made him look like a kid playing dress-up. It wasn’t a bad thing actually, but it was clear that he felt more comfortable in something else, and I found myself speculating on what exactly that was. He was fit, not bulky but lean and muscular, and I could tell that he kept himself in pretty decent shape.

“So what do you do outside of work?” I asked after the laughter died down.

“I’m in a band. I mostly just play music and teach, I guess. I’m pretty boring.”

“Sounds boring. What’s the band?”

“Honest Mystery, we play like indie rock stuff.”

“Local shows?”

“Yeah, we have a gig coming up soon actually, this weekend.”

“Where at?”

“Johnny Brenda’s, if you want to come check us out.”

It took me a second to realize he had actually invited me to see his band, which was both sweet and a little lame. Every random musician had a band, and I wasn’t sure I was interested in hearing his probably-terrible music. Then again, if he was teaching music theory courses, he had to know at least a little something about writing a song.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” I said.

“Cool. We go on at 10 Saturday night. Stop by if you want.”

“So that’s all you do? Band and teach?”

He laughed. “Yeah, pretty much. What about you?”

Aside from working at the library, drinking wine with Lane and Dillon, and studying my ass off, I pretty much didn’t do anything. At least he had music to fall back on for an interesting hobby; I was a studying and work machine, more or less.

“I read a lot, I guess. I hang out with my roommate, Lane. I don’t know, I guess I’m pretty boring too.”

“Is that who’s coming to get us, Lane?”

“No, that was Dillon, our fearless gay leader.”