How odd. I fell asleep in a cold, open area. Though, I did not wake up from the uncomfortable situation. I was in a good mood, to be honest, despite the fact that Heidi would leave me for who knows how long. I groaned, thinking of the worst-case scenario; she never wanted to cross our paths again.
A K-9 dog barked, and the police officer tugged away his leash. The double door chimed open, and mom ran to me, yelling,
"I didn't follow you last night because I trust you'll go home quickly before the officers capture you! How often have I warned you to bring your phone whenever you leave the house?" I grunted. Sick of the nagging early in the morning, my hand held my sore, rumbling stomach.
"Yes, yes, mom. I didn't mean to. What's for breakfast?" She smacked my butt. I jolted and pouted at her conversing with the two officers and came inside our humble abode.
It was the weekend, so I had the entire day to explore Persia's sudden disappearance. That girl involved me in their family's mess. The spoon clanked on the plate. I scratched my head, extensively ruffling my hair in frustration. What stupid timing. Students could not wander at school at the moment as if I could step foot on Jacob's wealthy estate.
"What are you doing with yourself?!" Mom snatched my hands off my black locks. I could not help not to wince. I felt lost and did not know what to do. My feelings were hurt and confused over Heidi's farewell and Persia, who I could not get in contact with if I would not do a thing to find out where the hell she ran off to.
Mom exhaled a draining breath with her left hand on her waist. A smile was disbelieving my problematic look. She nestled on the next chair and scooped several spoonsful of sauteed vegetables on my plate.
"You can't use your bright, witty mind if you haven't eaten anything. Come on, indulge in the taste of my cook. Let's see what we can do with your issues later." She winked. The vague oddness of anxiety sipping inside vanished through my mom's comforting support. The olive oil blended with various vegetables and sweet and salted seasoning became vivid as I let the spoon stay on my tongue.
Mom was right. And I had forgotten that I had her even if the world seemed unfavorable in keeping my happiness continued. Somehow, mom had guessed the concern I was undeniably going to handle. Between my friendship and other stuff — I dealt with as a 17 years old girl and a student — my friends were second in line with my priorities. Hence, mom had never set pressure when it came to our schooling. So long as my older sister, Frei, and I managed our school work which would lead us to the next school year, our mom would not question our lacking.
"I asked your advisor. He allows you for three hours, max." My mom gestured three fingers and nodded in approval. My smile gleamed, and she chortled, catching her grateful daughters' arms.
It would be the best method to start the plan. I pretended I would review for the upcoming final exams in the library. There, I would look out for familiar students connected with Persia. This would not be easy, knowing the librarian facilitator had a bad temper if she saw my name on the logbook.
I must loiter at the corner of the bookshelves for a few minutes. The book in my hands whipped aside as another two students, wearing casual clothes like me, ambled through my lane.
"I didn't want to. But what would I do if I found a book I badly wanted to borrow?"
"That's Mrs. Shelly to you. If we'd met first, you don't need to write down your name." They were startled when they saw me sitting on the floor. I smiled at them with my finger on my lips. Nice one. It's from the Student Council. Their Historian, Mira!
This albino girl had all the records about the council members. Given that I had to remain hidden akin to her friend, Mccoy, we sat down in a squatting position. At the same time, Mccoy casually inspected the surroundings and skimmed through a book on the shelf simultaneously.
"Did you have any news about the Chairman?"
"What do you mean? That's not my scope of work." I questioned her directly without her knowing about Persia's state. That friend was not part of their organization, yet they were inclined to be the school president at some point. Thus, Mira acted wise not to provide information if there were no useful trades.
"Did you know there is a newborn third gender in our school?" Her ears flickered, and her eyes widened. She leaned closer, and I whispered to her the scoop she desired to get her hands on. No such person had become an Alpha or Omega in our city. Not that I know of. I needed to invent a story to tweak Mira's interest and place the sensitive information at stake without being amiss.
The stack of documents grumbled on the wooden desk. Mira dusted her hands off, and Mccoy clicked the knob closed. The monthly event poster created by the student council was displayed on the back of the door.
"This is this month's news related to him. You can only read them here." I waved the phone in my hand. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Not a chance. If something gets out of control, I'd be dead meat."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Do you have an ample idea how dangerous her position is?" With a chestnut, side-parted haircut, hefty brows, and judging eyes, Mccoy crossed his arms in front. I giggled and covered my mouth to provoke him. His quick surprised reaction induced me to tease him more.
"Of course. I'm afraid her knight in invisible armor would start a war with me if not." He's a mestizo, and look at how his ears and cheeks glowed red. Mira was not dense. Mccoy was courting her from what I heard from Persia. I recalled that stone-faced nosy friend reclaimed my sense of purpose for why I was at school.
I merely had about two more hours left, and I'd be doomed if I did not gather any worthy data. Starting reading the first magazine, Mira tapped my shoulder.
"I'll wait for the details. Fill me in when you're done." I nodded and shooed her.
"Yeah, get out. I can't concentrate."
"Ungrateful blockhead. Hope you'll understand what you read," Mccoy mocked.
He knew me well. I could barely grasp a long article. My rank in our class was often at the bottom, or if luck favored the inadequate, I'd be over the moon to get in the middle spot. That would occur whenever I took my time and focused on lessons, subtracting the absences from skipping subjects. Somewhat, I turned into a good student if Persia had been around and monitored my academic records. And since she's away from school, and if she were gone for a couple more days, her grade would greatly suffer.
I whined, "Mom, I don't understand." Mom was cooking dinner, I presumed. The quick, sharp sound could mean a knife and the unfortunate ingredient on the chopping board.
"You haven't even stayed on your seat for an hour. Seize each word bit by bit."
"What? Is she going to college with poor English comprehension? Go back to freshman high!" yelled Frei in the background. Psh. I mumbled, my other whining.
My older sister had the opposite character I inherited from mom. Intelligent and mature. We were born a year gap, but she's independent. She was merely visiting home once in a while. Fifteen minutes left before time, and I was on the verge of ignoring this plan. Then, the back page of the newspaper in my hand highlighted the Chairman's name and his family.
The other scoops were mainly his contributions to the school's development and outside donations related to education. There was no personal news either in a positive or negative light. Skimming through the additional details is time-consuming and a clog of brain memory. I would not go home empty-handed, nevertheless.
As soon as I signed off on the logbook, it was strange that Mrs. Shelly was not the officer in charge. Sitting idly on the counter, the male student put down the men's catalog on his face.
"Anything else?"
"Ah, do you have any materials I could use for my project? The Chairman is my subject, sadly."
"Have you checked the biography section?" I leaned my elbows on the counter, engaging him on tattle.
"Are they the latest or anything interesting to find out?" He looked up and wondered. Since he started as an assistant librarian, we've made eye contact.
Loud students were an eyesore to Mrs. Shelly, so she's keeping an eye out for any unpleasant conduct against me. Her assistant enjoyed watching troublemakers disturb the quiet ambiance. Annoying Mrs. Shelly with chatters and wandered in and out. Those memorable moments brought additional complementary colors that broke the ice from time to time.
The materials I gathered from the Historian were more reliable than what the assistant librarian said. Moreover, the library was not storing personal articles of school heads that would shake up the public.