I’d heard lots of rumors about Dax the last two years. Lisa, who prided herself on knowing everything about everyone, had told me the most, in rushed whispers anytime we would see him around at school. He had transferred in the middle of sophomore year. His attendance was irregular. The beginning of junior year he’d spent a few months in juvie. When he came back he had a tattoo on the inside of his left wrist and was quieter than ever. He didn’t have any friends as far as I could tell and I never saw him during lunch. Outside of school, I saw him even less. One time he was at the movies with some girl I’d never seen before. He’d never acknowledged my existence. Not that I cared. He was just another kid from school.
I could tell he didn’t want to acknowledge me any more now than he had then by the way he looked at me. Did he even know my name? I realized he hadn’t said it once. I wasn’t sure how things would go down when we were finally discovered here, but it was in my best interest for now to tell him what he wanted to hear. “Nobody needs to know.”
He went back to reading without a word of gratitude. Did he not know how to say thank you?
I reached down and unlaced my boots. I’d been wearing them too long and the tops of my feet hurt. I slipped them off, wondering if it was a good idea. I was only wearing a thin pair of ankle socks and my feet immediately became cold. I pulled them up onto the chair with me and tucked them under the sleeping bag.
“There were vending machines in the kitchen but I don’t have any money . . . do you?”
He shifted in his seat, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a wallet. He opened it and produced a single bill. I couldn’t tell from where I sat if it was a dollar or twenty or something in between. “I take it all your belongings somehow ended up in one of those four cars that left without you and hasn’t returned.”
“They’ll be back.”
One corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. Oh good, I amused him. “That’s all I have,” he said, pointing to the table where he’d dropped the bill. “Spend it wisely.”
“I’m not hungry right now, so we can wait.”
“That half an apple filled you up?”
“We’re on rations here. If we have to last until Tuesday, we need to space our few meals.” A yogurt, the cake, the Tupperware bowl of mystery, and whatever the money would buy us, that’s all we had for three days or until I could find his phone. He’d leave his bag unattended at some point.
“Twelve hours trapped in a library and you’re already a survivalist.”
I crossed my arms. “You seem to enjoy making fun of me.”
“I was being sincere. I mean, if ever in a real life-or-death situation, you’ve already learned how to throw books and scavenge for food.”
The books I had hurled at him the night before were in a messy pile behind him. I needed to clean those up. “Well, if you’re ever in a life-or-death situation you can read and dole out insults.”
“I’m reading about how to survive living with a spoiled rich girl for three days.”
Spoiled rich girl? He didn’t know me at all. Sure, my parents had money but they were annoyingly good at making me work for things. “Considering you don’t want me to tell anyone about you being here, you sure are good at making me want to do the exact opposite.”
He let out a huff of air. “I can tell by the way you look at me that you’re not going to keep your mouth shut. You’ve already figured me all out.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“Everything I need to know is written all over your face.”
“Right now the only thing my face should be conveying is that it thinks you’re a jerk.”
He bowed his head as if to say, exactly.
Ugh. I’d never met anyone more frustrating. I couldn’t believe I still had three full days with him. I had to get out before then. I would get out before then. In the meantime, I didn’t have to sit here and be insulted.
I made my way back to the glass hallway. The glass must’ve had some special coating on it, because it wasn’t fogged up at all, nor was there snow sticking to any of it. But there was snow everywhere else. I was surprised by just how much. It came all the way up to the low windows I could see across the way. That was a lot of snow. Maybe this was why nobody was looking for me. Had everyone been snowed in at the cabin?
My bag was in Jeff’s trunk. Didn’t Jeff realize I hadn’t made it up when he saw that? Maybe he hadn’t looked in his trunk. It was Saturday morning. He was probably still in bed. When he woke up and looked in his trunk . . . why would he look in his trunk? This was so messed up. My hope of being rescued before Tuesday when the librarians reappeared was dwindling with every passing minute.