“None to the outside.”
But what about other ones? Ones that might have phones in them? I’d have to try all the doors again later.
Dax stopped in front of a vending machine. He surveyed the items on display behind the glass. I went immediately to the fridge that I hadn’t yet explored. I opened it and found nothing but old ketchup packets. I closed it with a sigh and joined him by the vending machine.
I still had no idea how much money he had. Would we get one bag of pretzels or five? I thought maybe we’d take a vote on what to get, but he slid his bill in the slot and began pushing buttons.
“I don’t have any food allergies,” I said, my passive-aggressive way of telling him he wasn’t being thoughtful.
“Good,” was all he said back as a bag of chips dropped from its slot. He gave the machine a shake but nothing else jarred loose with the effort. On the digital screen it showed he had four dollars left. He pushed a couple more buttons and this time a Payday dropped. He repeated the shaking motion with the same result.
He retrieved his two items from the slot then stepped aside and gestured for me to make a selection. Oh. Had that been his plan all along? That we’d each get to pick a couple items?
“Thanks,” I mumbled and stepped up to check out my choices. “I’ll pay you back.”
“No need to.”
I settled on Cheez-Its and a Payday as well. I figured the peanuts were the closest thing in the machine to healthy and maybe filling. There was a dollar left, so I stepped aside.
“Any preference?” he asked, taking in the selection.
I shrugged. “Not really.”
“Anything you absolutely hate?”
I raised my eyebrows at him and then smiled.
“In the machine,” he said, not taking my bait.
“No, whatever you want.”
He chose another Payday. Probably a good choice.
It was a small room, which I would think would mean it would be warmer than if it had been in the main part of the library. But it wasn’t. It was probably because a window, fogged with frost, took up a big portion of the back wall.
Dax picked up the remote to a television that sat on a metal rolling cart. He handed it to me then left the room without a word.
Okay, guess he didn’t want to watch television, just quarantine me. I must’ve completely ruined his weekend. His weekend of what? Reading? Being alone in a big library? Maybe he’d planned on stealing something here and I’d ruined that. Did the library have anything to steal?
I pointed the remote at the television and pushed power. I flipped through the channels—golf, tennis, cartoons, an old movie. I stopped there, sat on the couch, and opened the Payday.
“Was this the only choice?” Dax asked, coming back into the break room. He now had on a sweatshirt and was carrying the red sleeping bag, which he plopped on my lap before sitting down on the opposite end of the couch.
I was so surprised that I stuttered out, “N-no,” and handed him the remote.
He changed it and stopped on the cartoon—Scooby-Doo. I wrapped myself up in the sleeping bag. It smelled good, musky, and I wondered if that’s what Dax smelled like up close. Then I wondered why I would wonder something like that.
We watched the cartoon in silence for several minutes before I said, “You’d think after the thousandth time of the monster actually being a person in disguise that they’d check and see if he had a mask on first.”
“Then it would be a two-minute show.” A small smile played across his lips. Maybe he had a sense of humor in there somewhere after all. Buried deep. Maybe at the bottom of his duffel bag.
His bag. It was in the other room alone, unsupervised. He was just opening his candy, settling into the couch. He even put his feet up on the coffee table. I had at least ten minutes. I made a show of stretching. I had taken two bites of my candy bar. I needed to save it for later anyway. I tucked it back into its wrapper and set it on the table along with the Cheez-Its.
“I’ll be right back. Bathroom.”
“No need—”
“Right. You don’t want to know.” How hard was a simple okay? I was used to telling people where I was going because I was always with a group, not that it had done me much good last night. Maybe he wasn’t used to having to report his whereabouts because he was always alone. I looked over my shoulder as I reached the door. His focus was entirely on the television. This was perfect.
CHAPTER 7