In the far end of the Stella F. Preston Library, Haley pushes a cartful of returned books while looking up at the shelves for the row she's in search of. It's smaller and less fitted out than the library she left behind in Tree Hill High; the front of the space holds the study tables and chairs, four unfashionable desktop computers, and a simple desk set for Selena and her aide-de-camp. The rear carries seven-foot high shelves that support donated hardcovers, paperbacks, periodicals, newspapers, and volumes for nearly every profession. With its location nearly underground, as though the library was excavated out of the only space available – at the basement level of the tool shed – air circulation is iffy and the employees are often covered with sweat.
But it's a well-stocked library, which is named after a warden who was an unforgettable enforcer in the eighties. She's the reason they wake up at five in the morning and have dinner at six. Lore has it that she had wanted to turn the menu completely vegan, not even vegetarian; the inmates back then went on a hunger strike that received enough media critics to make her suspend her plan.
Haley hums very softly under her breath as she reshelves the books, trying to be as quiet as possible. Most of her friends, other than Lucas, had mentioned that they found library silences disturbing but she enjoyed the quiet atmospheres of libraries. Not this one, though; silences at NCCo, whether at the library or a bathroom, feel rather ominous.
The library is safer than the cells or bathrooms, though. Inmates mind their own business and no one is there to fool around. The women take the silence seriously, most of them being GED students or they're studying diligently for college classes. She dropped a pile of books yesterday and it sounded like a bomb had gone off. The women in the vicinity all threw her such dark glares that it shook her. Prison has made her quite jumpy, thinking that every negative expression will lead into someone drawing a shank from behind their back and sticking it into her for the smallest error.
In her position as her boss or supervisor, Selena hasn't complained about her work ethic so far, but she tends to be waiting in the wings to point out what she's done wrong. The library is not as desirable a work assignment as the kitchens or grounds but it's better than janitorial duties. She was sure she would have eventually fallen into a depression if subjected to doing nothing during the endless hours of the day.
Each woman who works at the library knows her responsibilities and keeps to her area, and they have minimal interaction with each other, and Selena keeps the gears running like a well-oiled machine. She was right about not showing Haley preferential treatment, neither the good kind nor the bad.
Without turning around, Haley reaches for the remaining books on the cart behind her. Her hand brushes against cool flesh. Freaked out, she leaps nearly a foot off the ground, a shriek caught in her throat. Her back is to the wall, her heart thudding madly, and she feels all set to go for combat. She identifies the intruder as friend rather than foe, and she finds herself breathing in relief and relaxing wound muscles.
"Jean! You scared the life out of me!"
The tall woman shakes her head and says through a smile that is meant to disarm, "I wasn't tryin' to sneak up on you, sweetheart."
Breathing out heavily, Haley lays a hand over her rapidly-beating heart. "Are you sure about that? You move like a cat."
Jean grins lazily, leaning on a shelf as she watches Haley sorting out the books. "How do you like the job?"
Haley smiles a little and pushes a softcover forcefully between others. "It's good. It's nice to have an unlimited access to books. Thanks again for helping me out."
"Selena owed me."
She's not surprised. This is a funny place where favours are not just favours and debts will be collected.
"How's your work assignment going?"
Jean shrugs. "Same. Nothing exciting in welding."
She goes about her work, aware of Jean's proximity. A prickle moves on the back of her perspiring neck with every passing moment of quietness.
Finished with the books, and feeling apprehensive about why Jean is still standing in the same position, Haley leaves the cart between them and looks across it at her. There's a soft smile on her face that is hard to decipher, almost trancelike.
"Is everything okay?"
The smile on Jean's face transforms into a wide grin. "Everything's A-Okay."
Her insides are twisting into knots. Something about this visit from Jean makes her feel uneasy, more so by the look in Jean's eyes. They're not as clear-cut grey as they typically are, and they seem to be dilated in that way pupils are when they're under an influence. She wonders if Jean has been partaking of a drink stronger than soda.
Haley blows wayward strands from her face and rests her head on the cold wall. Her mind is screaming for her to be alert, especially with Jean's unrelenting gaze. She pretends to close her eyes but the whites are hidden between the eyelids.
"It's so hot today," she says conversationally, fanning her face with her hand.
She's aware that Jean is gawking at her with an avaricious gleam, like she wants to consume her. It's so discomfiting that she just wants to escape.
"The front is cooler. We should—"
Her eyes pop open in alarm as Jean abruptly pushes aside the cart between them. As Haley is getting her mind around what is occurring, Jean has already closed the distance separating them. In astonishment, she recoils, and again, her back is flattened against the wall in distress.
Her heart trips when Jean leans over her into her personal space, standing too close for comfort that the scar on Jean's neck is in front of her.
"What…what are you doing?" she stammers, shrinking back. There's nowhere to go.
Jean's broad form doesn't draw back. Her eyes appear glassy as she scans Haley's face, her gaze remaining intense. Haley has turned ice-cold, when only moments ago she was being saturated by the warmth in the poorly-ventilated library. She hasn't felt defenceless being around Jean as she does now; she's intruding in a manner that she never has before.
"You don't know how good you make me feel," Jean says gruffly, her hand rising to Haley's cheek.
The touch is a shock to her system. The low tone and warm breath creeping over her skin make her lightheaded. She feels claustrophobic, boxed in, and lucidity is failing her.
"Jean, no…"
Jean wraps a secure hand around Haley's wrist, her thumb starting to trail gradually in circles. "My ingénue. So sweet, so innocent."
Haley turns her face away and stays still. She feels her eyes mist over and her knees quake. "Stop it."
Like she hasn't heard her, Jean takes another step forward. Her free hand goes to the small of Haley's back. She pants out a tobacco-laced breath, spilling it over Haley's neck, drawing even closer until they're thigh to thigh. "I can't."
"P-please, Jean," Haley begs in a scratched whimper, shutting her eyes slowly.
Her skin is crawling as she pushes against Jean but the older woman doesn't budge, her grip on Haley's wrist tightening. She's stronger, taller, heavier.
"Why don't you like me?" Jean throws back, her lips grazing Haley's neck. "I've been so nice to you. I'm not nice to everyone."
The dark terror of being trapped rips through her, and tears spill down her cheeks. Jean's breathing intensifies, a flaming so horrible that Haley wishes she could wash it off with antiseptic. She starts sobbing audibly, trying to suck in air through her constricted, painful throat.
"Don't cry, baby."
Then Jean kisses her cheek, softly, as if bestowing consolation on a terrified child to make her feel better. Intending to scream, Haley opens her mouth, but her voice trails off in a raw whisper.
Jean loosens her hands from around her, and a mild breeze sweeps across Haley's face as Jean steps back from her. She doesn't open her eyes to see whether Jean is there or not. On unsound legs, she melts to the floor. Arms wrapped around her waist, she tries to shut out what just happened. She feels naïve and stupid. She feels completely shamed and violated. And there's no way to run away from it.
Head still bowed, she wipes her cheeks. There's a ringing in her ears for some reason, like the peal left over from too-loud music. To her, hours have passed since Jean left, but it's only been a few minutes. All pretences of friendship are over; when Jean for the most part said that she expected repayment for being 'nice', it brought to a skidding halt any more worries she had about the snapping point of all that kindness.
She tenses up when footsteps start to approach. Her mind reels with thoughts of fleeing when Jean tries to corner her again; she'll use the only weapons she has: the books surrounding her. It's not the greatest plan but it's the only one she has.
"Are you napping?" Selena snaps in a harsh whisper from above her. "Is this what I get for hiring a pregnant girl?"
Without looking up, Haley shakes her head, deliberately manoeuvring herself sideways from Selena seeing her face. Her voice is like gravel: "I…I dropped s-something."
Selena mumbles something in Spanish and then switches to English. "What, an earring? There are more books waiting at the front desk. Don't make me come back and tell you again. Quickly, now."
She nods, holding her breath as Selena The Stern-faced retreats. When she's gone, Haley finally opens her eyes. Aged and ragged spines of softbacks stare back at her as the world returns to focus. She's motionless but her mind is a flutter of traffic. Was what she just endured from Jean the actions of an impatient woman high on something? Or had Jean, without the assistance of whatever was in her bloodstream, consciously decided that it was time to collect? What will happen now? How should she approach this?
With the help of her knees and one of the shelves, she forces herself to rise. She can't stay too long on the floor lest Selena returns and seriously chews her out. She snatches the handle of the empty cart, her hands curling around it with anger. She should have known better than to think for a second that Jean wouldn't eventually attempt something so horrid.