It had been one week since the buses exploded.

One, extremely boring, no-explosion week.

Jeffery the lamb had getting accustomed a very nice home in my backpack, and Dusty's crush on Arielle had reached an all-time high with her latest purchase of a light pink tank top (and for once I could understand why, it's a good color on her), and I was alone. Same as usual. Large Sweater, Skinny Jeans, Irritability. I didn't run today. I'm an idiot, therefore I've bitten of many heads of passerby's today.

I'm a moron.

In an ill fated attempt to staunch the upcoming existential crisis that I was feeling, I decided to head to the school's library. Had they had enough with my harassments, enough to add Call of the Wild back to the catalog? Problably not, but that's what the internet's for.

God bless PDFs.

Shuffling over slowly, I sat down in the uncomfortable wicker chairs, which totally clashed with the carpet, and began to open my tablet.

I like reading, for the most part, it gets me out of my head. What I don't like, is when someone reeks of pot comes around and brings me out of my bootleg book party. Rich must be here. I don't get why he lurks around school so much, he dropped out like 5 years ago.

Screw this, I'm going to hang out in the stacks.

Shuffling away from the smell, I quickly change tactics and begin to stare blankly at some Atlases (Atli?). Sadly, It didn't work.

My attention was quickly drawn to Ren. Ren doesn't look happy. He's absolutely as gorgeous as ever, but uncomfortable as hell.

To stay undercover, I wedged myself between the bookshelves parallel to further eavesdrop.

You know, for science.

Hypothesis: Boys are dumb. Let's watch.

"You know, City Mind, Country Mind . . ." Randy/ Rich/ Whatever stopped for a moment, like he forgot what he was trying to say. "Blazing!" He's said that to half the freshman class. A grown ass man is lurking on campus, and all people can talk about is Ren.

I attempted to look busy with "WORLD ATLAS 1983", as Ren responded with "What makes you think I'm anything like you?"

Thank you Jesus.

Hold on a second.

"This is what we call a take-homer. You need anything else?" The overweight man child actually had the nerve to put a joint in Ren's pocket. People wonder why no one likes Georgia.

Shifting my weight, irritability giving way for what felt like a moment, I wondered if I should get involved. They're just kind of yelling at each other, no one's gotten hurt.

"Hey, what is that?" Mr. Holland, the librarian, who has a tendency to hit the peach snaps in his desk way too often

He just had to wake up now, didn't he.

He paused and looked at me, and the color drained from his face with the joint in his hand. I mustered up a sympathetic look, followed by a "GO!", gesturing wildly to the side doors of the library.

I was relieved to see the guy I like pull a road runner, only the two coyotes chasing were faster and dumber.

From the steps I heard on the pavement, and slamming doors, I bet he made it.

Wait, guy I like?

Shit.