His

It was a few days more before the man came back to the library, fifteen minutes before closing. Not the mustache man—Jules was right about that, he was gone for good, probably murdered—but the handsome one. The one I’d kissed. The dark-haired, light-eyed Fabio.

 

Boring old me stayed away. I didn’t want to scare him off. This was the only time he’d been back since the first time I’d seen him, when I’d kissed him. And as strict as Sheryl was about helping library patrons, I thought that I would be more help not scaring him out of the library again with a random kiss.

 

I stayed in the kids’ section and shelved picture books, watching as he went up into the stacks and dreaming about all of the dark, terrible, wonderful things he could do to me if he had me in bed. Then he came back down and started to head out of the library. .

 

My hand reached back into my jeans pocket. I hadn’t done laundry in two weeks, and the slip of paper was still stuffed into my back pocket. I pulled it out and looked at it. Random numbers and letters. But it was something to start a conversation about. I could talk to him.

 

“Hey, you dropped this last time you were here. So what’s important about this code, anyway?”

 

I didn’t know why I was so hell-bent on talking to him again, anyway. If anyone asked, I would probably tell them it was Jules breaking my balls, calling me boring every two minutes and asking me if I’d ever kiss a boy again. I wasn’t boring, dammit!

 

But the real reason I clocked out early and scooted after him?

 

I wanted to kiss him again.

 

I wanted to feel that passion.

 

I wanted to know if his mind was as dark as mine.

 

In the parking lot, I saw him get into a silver Kia sedan. A boring car, Jules would say. He was too far away to run after, and I thought about giving up and going back inside. Finishing up the picture books section. He probably didn’t need the slip of paper, anyway.

 

But then I changed my mind. The kids’ books could wait. What if the paper I had from him was super important? What if he was a secret agent and the paper I had was a secret code? And—bigger question—what if he kissed me again? So I hopped into my black Honda Civic, possibly the only car more boring than a silver Kia, and drove off after him.

 

I’d seen enough cop shows to know how to tail someone. Stay behind, but not too far behind. Don’t let traffic lights get between you. Have a boring car. Check! It also helped that the car between us was full of five college frat boys hanging out the windows and blasting music. If he ever looked in his rearview mirror, all he would see was Animal House on wheels.

 

A rush of excitement went through me as I followed him. I was off work, and instead of going out to bars, I was chasing a sexy guy who might even be a secret agent! There was no way Jules could call me boring after this. Okay, so he probably wasn’t a secret agent. But at least I could pretend he was for now.

 

I crawled behind him from light to light, and he never noticed me. I supposed that this might be a good career for an average-looking girl with an average-looking figure. Men never noticed me: I would make a great undercover cop. I made a mental note to ask the career counselor about it.

 

Soon, he turned off of the main street and headed out of town. I lagged behind; there weren’t any intersections on this road. He kept driving, and more than once I thought that I was crazy to keep following him.

 

Why? Why did I keep following?

 

I don’t know, not really. I wanted to see what was hidden in those eyes. I wanted to know what the important code was. I wanted to ask him why he wouldn’t date. Or if it was just that he wouldn’t date me. There was something mysterious about chasing after a guy I didn’t know, and my heart beat faster as I drove, excitement pumping through my veins.

 

I pulled out my phone and dialed Jules. At least I could let her know where I was, in case this guy did turn out to be a secret agent. But the little bars on my screen were gone: no reception out here in the mountains. Frowning, I tossed my phone down on the passenger seat. I would just have to tell her about my adventure later.

 

His car led me to the outside of town and into the nearby mountains. I slowed even more. The sun was dipping down below the tops of the mountains and I could see his red taillights clearly as he took the curves around the mountain bends.

 

What on earth was I doing? I was wasting so much gas driving out here. For a split second I considered turning around, but then his car turned into a long driveway. I drove up to the driveway just as his car went around the curve inside. I parked on the dirt pullout and hopped out.

 

Maybe I should just leave the slip of paper in his mailbox. The metal gate that barred the driveway was swinging shut slowly. I really shouldn’t go running off after him. What would he think of me showing up on his doorstep, with nothing but a stupid scrap of paper with some numbers on it?

 

But it said IMPORTANT.

 

Just as the gate was about to shut, I darted inside. The metal clanged as the gate locked behind me.

 

“Seriously, Kat,” I said to myself. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

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