Young Writers Society

Don't critique me! I'm being edited. If you want to read then ask my author to PM you when the updated version is up. Thankyou =]

She took a seat at the spare desk that already had a name card for her sitting on it, and a few books that had been put there the Friday before. Over the heads of the people that surrounded her she peered to see the rest of the class.

Over in one corner were the quiet kids, stealing occasional glances. By the dust board there were two boys drawing pictures and then banging the black board to make them disappear again. The class clown was standing on one of the desks leaning out the window to see which car had just screeched into the car park. Mostly the girls and boys stayed separate, except in one corner where they glanced over with a mild indifference, and one couple sat together, she'd assumed they were a couple by the way the red-haired girl wrapped her arm around the waist of the boy who sat on her desk.

It was almost like every other school but not quite. There was no kicking of peoples chairs or paper being thrown, no subtle digs or extra tension that tended to exist between the fractions.

It was the group in the corner, the girls that wore boots instead of kickers, and the boys who wore their collars undone. The ones that thought themselves to be more grown up than any adult would allow them to believe. She'd stick with them because they seemed to be more aware of who was looking at them rather than of who they were looking at themselves, and that's what she preferred. It was always that way.

Not that she was interested in high school politics, in fact it was never politics at all to her. It was more like a dance. The different groups and stereotypes would weave in and out of each other, in fast paced spins and the occasional crash. Not here though.

She could suppose that's because it was a small town. One persons uncle worked alongside another persons father, who routinely went over to the house of someone else's grandparent to help on the farm. In a society this close it was impractical to hold grudges, and perhaps that's why it all seemed to function so peacefully. Nothing was nobody's business, and so it wouldn't be long at all before news got out that she was living with Luci.

But like he said, it would be better to postpone that news a little.

There were four lessons a day. One from eight until ten, then ten thirty until twelve thirty, one thirty until three, and the last lesson was more like a club, ranging from half an hour to two hours depending on which ones were opted for.

She was glad that in two of those three lessons her seat was on the shadowed side of the classroom. She wouldn't get to daydream out of the window, but at least she wouldn't be in the blinding sun for much of the day.

Afterwards she went outside to wait by the gates until Luci came out, his hair ruffled and top buttons undone. He flicked his head and gestured forward. As soon as she knew her way home she'd be able to walk it on her own and be rid of his smart remarks, but the bus only ran in the mornings and she hadn't yet memorised the route.

'We're going to the library,' he said as she pulled up at his side.

Library? Library, in every place she had been to, was the word you tell parents when you're actually going to hang out with a boy, or someone else your parents wouldn't agree with. So why would he take her to the library?

She followed the stream of students down a long road that fell under shadow in the evening.

The library faced eastward, which meant any time after four o'clock the sun set its face on fire with a warm, yellow hue. Here, that social dance she was so accustomed to fell apart.

There was a set of steps leading up to the huge brown doors, and a grassy yard filled with statues; a lion with a weathered mane, a dragon with part of its wing broken, a seal lying with its belly up where a group of younger boys challenged each other to jump over. Every once in a while there would be an applause as someone crashed down onto the grassy earth.

Nerds and athletes mixed, girls and boys, older students sat in pairs or threes while the younger ones ogled them and their words of wisdom. Luci took off to join Valeo and some other boys who were play fighting, while the weathered stone lion watched with curiosity and amusement.

Survival and social dynamics could wait just a little longer. Mele let her feet lead her up the steps. The heavy wooden door opened without a sound, but once she was through the foyer and into the main library, the whole room sung.

The bookshelves were laid out in a maze, with winding bends leading to dead ends, cushions, chairs and beanbags scattered about. The children’s section was an alcove with cushions carpeting the floor at the end of A to Z bookshelves marked with bright coloured letters. The geography section had ornamental leaves and vines along the shelves, with cotton moss up along the sides of the wood.

The poetry section was at the end of a half curve, where two large armchairs sat on a floor covered in pages of old books that looked like they had been swept in with the wind. She meant just to look, but as soon as her fingers touched the soft, worn out spines of the paper backs she was pulled into them as the words started to wrap themselves around her.

It had been almost half an hour of staring at the same page, watching the letters curl and the words take shape, until she could almost taste them in her lips, before she realised she'd been in there too long already.

She closed the book and went to the front desk where nobody was there. Instead there was a large book with a list of names and dates inside. She picked up the blue pen and started to carefully write her name. After she signed it the ink faded straight into the paper.

'Returns,' was written on the edge of the pen. She did it again in red and the ink stuck firm. She smiled. Paper was too easily tampered with, in the city everything was done throguh computers, checked, double checked, security tagged. This little place seemed like a haven and for a second she let herself believe that it was. Just a second. In that brief, fleeting second she might have even wondered if she could get used to living her- but such thoughts need more than a second to really come into the imagination.

Outside more people had arrived, including some of the college students and a few stray kids who had wondered up to meet their siblings from primary school. Sammy called her over to sit and as the sun crept up the library walls and dusk started to settle the numbers dwindled until at last Luci stood over her and held out his both of his hands, one to her and one to Sammy.

'Shall we?'

For a second, subdued by the sunlight and the sweet evening mist, she could almost believe this gesture of kindness, but not enough to take it. Instead she stood up, dusted off the back of her skirt and the three started the journey back.

Sammy lived in a motel with seven siblings and her parents up by Bakers Hill. Luci waved to her eldest brother after walking her home and they set off the rest of the way home. It was a long stroll, but it had been a long day, the air was peaceful.

'Lan is a professional cook,' Luci said. Mele knew. Her mother had given her his life story in the first four hours of the journey (the rest of the three days was spent in silence). She listened anyway. That scarecrow-headed boy had a soft tone in his voice when he wasn't in a bad mood, and she kind of liked it. 'Sometimes he has to travel and stay out because big businesses want him to cater. Sometimes he works with Sammy's Dad too when there's an event going on. It means good food every day.'

'I guess staying here won't be so bad, as long as there's good food.'

He looked at her and they exchanged a brief, fleeting smile, before they each remembered their undying feud. 'Come on!' He said and charged forward. She ran after him at full pelt for a few seconds before she bent over coughing, the feeling again of smoke filling her chest. He jogged backwards to meet her and push her forward gently.

'You can do it, we're about half a minute away. Come on.' He put one arm around her back to push her forward and could feel the rattle and cough of the turmoil that still cursed her breath. 'We're almost there.'