The library door opened with a shushing sound, as if quiet just sort of started in the doorway.
All the tables were unoccupied – the green glass desk lamps glowed for no one.
A series of thumps split the silence and she turned to see Eloise piling books on a cart. She had a notepad in her hand as she arranged the books into stacks. It was the first time she’d seen the librarian looking anything other than nervous since she’d returned to the school.
Allie cleared her throat and Eloise jumped.
Now she looked nervous.
‘Sorry.’ Allie gave an apologetic wave. ‘Didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Not to worry,’ Eloise said, straightening her glasses. ‘I just didn’t hear you come in.’
‘The door …’ Allie said, apologetically. ‘You should add squeak to it.’
Eloise accepted this with a quick nod.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course.’ As if adding squeak to a door was a completely reasonable suggestion. Then she went back to her work.
Eloise had once been a confident, warm, friendly teacher. She was much younger than the other teachers and had always been the one the students could relate to.
Now, she looked older. She seemed more fragile, too – her nails were bitten to the quick. Some part of Allie did feel for her.
But, fragile or not, Eloise was still one of the three teachers suspected of working for Nathaniel. In fact, Allie wasn’t meant to be alone with her at all.
Turning away, she trudged through the forest of shelves. The long, shadowy room was lined on both sides by rows of tall, dark bookshelves. Each soared up at least ten feet. The top shelves were higher than the heavy, metal light fixtures that hung from the ceiling by chains.
Thick, Persian rugs absorbed her footsteps but there was no one to disturb.
She turned into the stacks at the history section. Large, leather books lined the shelves – some as old as the time period they covered. She traced her fingers across the gold-embossed titles looking for something useful, but soon realised the books were mostly about the eighteenth century. A century too early for the purposes of her research.
Her head down, still lost in thought, she turned the corner to the next aisle.
And ran headlong into Carter, nearly tripping in the process.
He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling. ‘Steady.’
Holding his arms for balance she glanced up at him in surprise.
He was looking down at her with the oddest expression, as if he’d dreamed her up. As if he was contemplating kissing her.
And, for some crazy reason, she found herself wishing he would. She was hyper-aware of the way his leg pressed against hers. She could feel each of his fingers on her shoulders. Feel his breath warm against her cheek.
What is wrong with me? she wondered.
He had Jules and she had Sylvain and this was over between the two of them forever. They’d agreed that last term. They were friends for life.
And yet, for a frozen second neither of them moved.
Then the shutters went down over Carter’s gaze and he stepped back, disentangling himself from her.
‘History essay?’ He spoke casually, as if the moment had not just happened. The strange longing look was completely gone from his expression.
‘Naturally.’ Copying him, she affected nonchalance, but her voice sounded too high and thin. She cleared her throat and tried to force herself to sound cool. ‘You too?’
‘Three thousand words.’ Turning to the shelves, he frowned at the books as if they held all the answers to life’s problems. ‘Ludicrous deadline.’
From beneath her lashes, Allie watched the side of his face, looking for any sign that what had just happened meant anything real but he seemed utterly absorbed in the book titles.
Dropping her gaze, she exhaled through pursed lips. She must have imagined the whole thing. That wistful look … it was all in her head.
God. Why couldn’t she just let them be friends?
‘As usual,’ she said, turning to look at the shelves, too, although the titles were a blur and she didn’t really know what she was looking for.
Pulling down a heavy book, Carter whistled under his breath as he opened it, flipping through the pages.
‘The assignment’s a bit vague, right?’ he said. ‘I mean, three thousand words on empire is like … “Give me five thousand words on the history of the world.”’
Allie snorted her agreement and chose a book at random. When she opened it, a tiny cloud of dust arose. She sneezed.
‘Bless you,’ he said solemnly.
As if that were some sort of an insult, she slammed the book shut and turned to him.
‘Listen, Carter, I just think we need to talk.’
Clearly startled, he leaned back. ‘About empire? Because I had nothing to do with that.’
‘No.’ She shoved the dusty book back on the shelf where she’d found it. ‘About … things.’
‘Things?’ Carter pulled down another book and looked at it with too much interest.
Now that Allie was in this she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. But she had to keep going.
‘When I came back, that first day, you were so pissed off at me and I didn’t know why …’
‘I have anger issues,’ he said. ‘I thought you knew that.’ His tone was mild but she could see the corners of his mouth twitch.
‘Don’t make jokes about this,’ she protested. ‘I just thought we should … talk about why you were so angry. Or just, you know … talk. Because I missed you.’