The Missing Book

Ben

“Keep it down over there! And use your inside voices,” Ms. Marge, our slightly senile librarian said out of habit. It was honestly hard to take her seriously, though, because whenever she would scold Javier and I, who admittedly, had a habit of well, getting scolded, she would end up forgetting about it two seconds later. 

“Sorry Ms. Marge,” I said, as I looked up at her pointer finger pressed hard against her chapped, wrinkly, lips. 

I looked over to Javier, my face filled with angst. “Come on, keep looking!”

“I know, I know, you could at least ask me nicer, I am staying late after school for you, Ben,” he said, sighing audibly, “On the last day of school too! Remind me again what we’re wasting our summer doing?”

“You’re right,” I said, putting my hands up, “thank you. What we are wasting,” I paused to do air quotes over ‘wasting,’ “our summer doing, is figuring out who that girl was. I’ll give you our leads again so far. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Javier said, not breaking his eye contact. 

“We were in the library this morning, you following so far?” I said, teasing him.

“Piss off. Okay, then what?”

“Okay, and then, this tall, beautiful, brunette walks in. She’s in a yellow sundress with the book, “The Great Gatsby", one of the only interesting books that this dusty library has to offer us. That book, which she dropped in one of the three return boxes, has her name inscribed in the library log. Her’s would be the last name written. That, my friend, is what we must find. Once we find that book, we find her.” I said, looking at the huge pile of returned books we had dumped on the table. We were going to be here pretty late. Ms. Marge said she would keep the library open for us, that she would be here anyway preparing for summer break.

“No problem,” Javier said, a pained look in his eyes. “We’ll find the book, don’t stress,” he continued as he patted my shoulders. “And then you’ll have all summer with her.” 

I leaned back in my chair, and smiled at the ceiling of our school’s old library, brushing my hands through my hair. 

“Yes, yes I will.” 

Javier 

“Keep it down over there! And use your inside voices,” Ms. Marge, our dedicated librarian said. I always pitied her, because she spent half her career just scolding Ben and I, who somehow always got in trouble over the most mundane of offenses.

“Sorry Ms. Marge,” we said, as she walked away slowly back to her desk.

Ben suddenly looked at me, his face contorting and filled with anxiousness. “Come on, keep looking!” 

“I know, I know, you could at least ask me nicer, I am staying late after school for you, Ben,” We had just finished our senior year of high school (finally), and this was how we were spending our first night of summer. Not at some overhyped graduation party, not even at home with our proud families. Figures. At least we were together.

“You’re right,” He said, putting his calloused hands up in defeat, “thank you.” He smiled back at me sincerely, his cheeks rosy, dimples exposed. 

“We’ll find the book, don’t stress,” I moved closer to him and awkwardly patted his quarterback-formed, muscular, shoulders. He smelled of sandalwood. A hint of pine, perhaps. “And then you’ll have all summer with her…” my voice trailed softly. We had seen her this morning. She truly was beautiful, even I couldn't deny that.

He leaned back in the crisp leather of the chair, and smiled at the wooden-beamed ceiling of our school’s library, brushing his hands through his golden hair. I watched it fall back into place. 

“Yes, yes I will.” He grinned. 

Ben 

It was almost 9pm now. The library was dark, only lit by a few lamps here and there. Major creepy horror movie vibes. Javier had this frayed look about him, and he kept pulling at his collar like a nervous salesman. He must have been exhausted. We had been here for hours. I appreciated how invested he was in my situation, though. One of the many perks of being best friends since sixth grade. 

“You good?” I asked him.

“Me? Oh yeah! Yeah of course! Just tired.” He said, putting his hand in his jacket pocket. It was a balmy summer night, the kind that makes your clothes stick to you. I couldn't believe he was wearing a jacket in this sweltering heat. 

“Hey look!” I said excitedly, “we’re down to our last box!”

“Ah yes!” Javier said, still staring at me.

I grabbed the last remaining return box and dumped the books on the table. Shoot. There must have been at least one hundred left. 

Javier 

It was a quarter to nine now. The library’s walls were lit with antique light bulbs that left glowing, oval shadows on the white, tiled floors. It was staggeringly quiet. We were the only people left in the library, apart from Ms.Marge. I swear she lived here. We had been here for hours combing through the piles of books, Ben patiently waiting for the book to magically appear. A ball started to form in my throat. I couldn’t bear to think about when we would finish the last return box, only to leave empty handed. I could feel my heartbeat racing in my neck, my eyes drooping. I loosened my collar, my jaw tightening.

“You good?” Ben asked me skeptically. He could see right through me. One of the many perks of being best friends since we met at Sarah’s Halloween party in fifth grade. 

“Me? Oh yeah! Yeah of course.” I spat out, gingerly placing my hand in my jacket pocket. I could feel its weight. Even though it was small, and most definitely light, it felt extremely heavy as if it were weighing down my entire upper body. 

“Hey look!” He said excitedly, “we’re down to our last box!”

“Ah yes!” I said, trying to break eye contact. 

He grabbed the last remaining return box and poured the books on the table. There must have been no more than fifty.