Ryder and I make it to the library without getting lost.
"Do you need to do something in particular?" He asks me as we walk up to the front desk. I shake my head no. "Alright. I need to do a few things on the computer, so you can look around or something while you're waiting."
"Okay," I mumble, wandering away from his side. Stopping for a moment to look around, I stare at the signs. To my left is the "young adult/teen fiction" section and to my right is the "educational nonfiction" section. In front of me is the computer section, where a bunch of old computer monitors sit, waiting for someone to use.
"Might as well do something useful while I'm here," I say to myself, trudging reluctantly over to the "educational nonfiction" section.
"Oh, hi Camilla!" A familiar voice calls. 'Oh dear Lord, not Amy,' I think. Forcing myself to turn around and smile, I watch as she hurries over. In her hand is a huge, old looking book; it looks like it might be part of the encyclopedia.
"Hi, Amy," I grumble. She smiles widely at me, setting the large book on a nearby stool; it is indeed an encyclopedia.
"I heard you're hanging around with Ryder," she says, twirling a piece of her dark brown hair around in her finger.
"You heard correctly," I say, distractedly looking through science textbooks. I was hoping to find a book that explained things in more detail than the textbook I was given at class earlier.
"Isn't he just so cute?" She burst out asking, using a tone of girliness that a lot of the females our age did. I sighed, rolling my eyes; I've always hated it when girls get obsessive over guys.
"I don't know and I don't care," I mumble in response. Fumbling around slightly, I swing my backpack off my shoulder and unzip it, letting Strikey out. He hops out of it, landing on his feet with a soft thud.
"But you're hanging out with him. If you don't care if he's cute, why are you talking to him?" She asks, looking confused.
"Because he's nice and he's willing to talk to me," I say in response, watching Strikey carefully. The last thing I needed was for him to get scared and run loose or something.
"I think that you're lying," she says mockingly. "You think he's hot and you just don't want anyone to know."
Memories of past years of her saying things like this run through my mind. It takes all my restraint not to throttle her.
"Leave me the hell alone!" I hiss at her. "I said I don't like him and I meant it!"
"I guess you won't mind if I ask him out, then," she says sweetly. I open my mouth to respond, but she turns around and leaves, leaving her encyclopedia behind.