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I withdraw a hand from my bangs like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be. It’s strange when someone else notices your nervous habits. “My stupid bangs,” I say with a sigh. “I can never decide what to do with them.”
He studies me for a long moment, as though I am a sentence he’s trying to translate into another language. “I like them the way they are,” he says finally, which isn’t helpful and somehow makes me more self-conscious.
I vow to cut them before graduation. I am not taking hair advice from Neil McNair.
I plug in my phone and put on the Smiths. Back to rainy-day music.
Neil groans. “Seriously, do you not have any happy music?”
“The Smiths are happy.”
“No, this is mopey and depressing. What’s this song called?”
“I don’t want to say.”
He grabs for my phone. I try to snatch it back, but he’s quicker than I am. “?‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’?”
“It’s a good song!”
He scrolls through my phone as we wait for the car to heat up. I’m gripped with that itchy someone’s-messing-with-my-phone feeling. He selects a song by Depeche Mode and places the phone back in the cup holder. My shoulders relax.
“Gas Works?” I say, and Neil lets out a long-suffering sigh.
“It’s not the best view, but fine. And we have to figure out this Cooper clue or we’re fucked. I’m going to do some more sleuthing online, see if Sean or Adrian or Cyrus have any ideas.”
With Neil on his phone, we drive in relative quiet for a few minutes, except for Dave Gahan singing about not being able to get enough. When I make a left turn, something in the back seat thuds to the floor.
Neil twists around to look. “You always carry around that many books with you?”
“Oh shit,” I say, banging the steering wheel. “I was supposed to return those today!” It completely slipped my mind this morning with the power outage. “Do you think there’s any chance school is still open?”
“Yeah, given that it’s almost nine o’clock—no, Artoo. It’s definitely closed.”
“How much do you think the fine would be?”
“Per book? You have, what, five back there, so… a lot.” He clucks his tongue. “I hear they don’t let you walk if you have overdue books. It could be an urban legend, though. I haven’t heard of it happening to anyone. Hey, you could be the first!” He glances at the books again and then back at me. “Well, I guess there’s only one thing to do.”
I blink at him, waiting for some magic solution.
“We have to break in.”
I snort-laugh. “Right. The valedictorian and salutatorian breaking in to the school library. Not to mention, we can’t keep taking detours like this.”
“We’re pretty solidly in the lead,” he says, and he’s right. “What other option is there if you don’t want a fine? And if you want to walk on Sunday?”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Damn it, he’s right. I don’t want to risk not walking. I mean, I definitely don’t believe him, but just in case.
“We’ll be safe in there,” he continues. “And we’ll be fast. In and out.”
I stop at an intersection before making the turn that will take us back to school. “Then I guess we’re doing it. We’re breaking in to the library.”
Text conversation between Rowan Roth and Neil McNair
April of junior year
McNIGHTMARE
Mr. Kepler accidentally hinted at a pop quiz in 3rd period today.
