It had taken at least another hour for his sticky hand to fall, followed by mine a couple of minutes later. By that time my hands were numb and my lungs were ice. My chin vibrated my teeth together. I grabbed both sticky hands where they had fallen down to the floor below and went back to the main library. It didn’t feel much warmer.
“I w-won,” I stuttered out to his reading form, then dropped into the nearest chair, plopping both the toy hands on the table. “In your face.”
He smiled. “You’re getting better at smack talk.” He had the sleeping bag around him. He took it off and held it out for me. When I didn’t move, he got up and walked it over.
“Was it worth it?” he asked, dropping it in my lap.
“Depends on your truth.”
“Oh, right, what’s your question?” He went back to his chair.
What was my question? Wasn’t this why I’d waited so long in that icy hall? I’d really wanted another truth out of him. There were so many questions I could ask—how was I supposed to narrow it down to one?
“I’m not all that interesting,” he said when I was quiet for too long.
“Just a mystery,” I responded, causing him to laugh. I really did like his laugh.
“How so?”
“You’re always alone, you disappear during lunch, you never talk, not even in class, and you don’t seem to care what anyone thinks of you.”
“And here I thought you hadn’t been paying attention.”
“You’re hard to ignore.” When I realized how that sounded, I added, “Everyone is always talking about you.” My statement went from bad to worse. I stopped while I was ahead.
“Right. So was there a question in there somewhere?”
“Where are your parents?”
When he flinched a little, I knew I was the most insensitive person ever. What made me think I had earned that information, even if we were on the same team now? “You don’t have to tell me. I can think of another question.”
“My dad is physically absent and my mom is mentally absent.”
I must’ve looked confused because he clarified. “My dad left when I was little. My mom is a drug addict.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Like I told you before, I am perfectly fine. I am in a really good situation. And next year, I’ll be officially free of the entire system.”
He had nobody. Nobody he could count on when he was in trouble, nobody to help him if he made the wrong step or lost his way. He was all alone. My eyes burned with tears that I held back.
He sighed. “Don’t assign me emotions. Don’t pretend to know what I’m thinking based on your experiences.”
I tried to control my expression even more. I needed to take him at his word. He said he was fine. He was probably fine. I was giving him emotions based on my universe, not his. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He picked up his book again and read.
It had been hours. I was wrapped up in the sleeping bag and my teeth still hadn’t stopped chattering. I wondered if it was the lack of food. Did the body need food to warm itself? What had I been thinking staying in that cold hallway for so long? Dax didn’t seem cold at all, sitting there in his chair reading away.
“D-Dax.” My throat hurt.
“Yeah?”
“What are the symptoms of hypothermia? Because I can no longer feel my fingers.”
He glanced up at me, then back down. “Go run the stairs or something.”
“Run the stairs . . .” He was right. I just needed to get my blood pumping. I stood and walked toward the stairs. Stars appeared in my vision for a moment, my head light. But I maintained my balance and made it to the stairs. The hallway was dark, the sun setting. I had been in the library for another full day. Just one more full day to go. Plus two nights . . . Why did that sound like an eternity?
I started the steps slow, just walking up each one. As the feeling returned to my extremities, I picked up my pace. My mind began to wander. I missed my friends. Especially Jeff. He made me laugh. Just the week before he’d come into the yearbook room, where I was arranging the Clubs page on the computer. He’d sat down, took one look at the page I’d spent the last thirty minutes on, and said, “Looks perfect, now let’s go.”
“Does it really? I’m not sure if this one is very good.”
He had barely given it a glance. “All your pictures are awesome. Now come with me.” He pulled me up by the arm and led me away.
“I need to save my work.”
“Someone will save it for you. You need to take me to the teachers’ lounge and buy me a soda.”
“We’re not allowed in the teachers’ lounge.”
He stopped in front of the door leading there. “I’m not allowed in the teachers’ lounge. But you can go anywhere you want, it seems. Teachers like you. With you by my side, I could do anything.”
“I’m not going into the teachers’ lounge.”
He laughed and then knocked. I gasped, my heart racing.
The vice principal opened the door. “Can I help you?”