"I want to show you something," I whispered.

Lauren stares at me, perplexed. Even though classes are about to begin in five minutes. The hallway is still crowded with students filling the atmosphere with their laughter and conversations. When the bell started ringing, we watch as students rush to their classes, leaving Lauren, me, and a few other students left in the hallway.

I hold onto her wrist, and she beams at me.

"Okay, sure," she says, "I'm hoping I don't get murdered."

I laugh at her answer as we both sprint to the library before anyone would see us.

As soon as we reached the library, I pulled the doors open. The smell of books engulfed us. I turn to my side to look at Lauren; watching her as she strains her neck against the walls, the place filled with endless bookshelves.

"I haven't been here for such a long time. I didn't know they redecorated the place and added some more bookshelves," she says in awe as she ignores eye contact. I smile at the sight of her being in awe as I continue to head towards the back of the library.

I finally let go of her arm. I continue walking as I dig into my bag for a key.

"I remember you said you liked watching your mom paint," I say as I continue to walk ahead, leading her to where the spot was, "Then I thought maybe you like seeing artworks as well."

"Don't tell me you've found a video of my mom painting?" She asks, "Because that would be so creepy."

I laugh as I shake my head.

"How is that creepy?" I asked.

"People watching people paint."

I stopped walking to turn at her, "So, you're calling yourself 'creepy'?" I speak. I watch as her eyes widen, making me snicker.

Her cheeks began to flush, "T-That's not what I meant—"

"It's okay," I say as she rolls her eyes at me.

By the time we reached the end of the library where self-published memoirs and inappropriate fiction novels are shelved. I once saw a student reading Fifty Shades of Grey in the library's reading section.

Ms. Jensen, the librarian, caught the student, and ever since then, she and I gathered and separated all of the inappropriate books. I assisted her in stacking the shelves of certain types of novels here in the back, where students are less likely to go since there isn't much light source nearby for them to enjoy reading.

I took my phone out and turned the flashlight on.

"Prepare to be amazed," I say to her as I push the only sliding shelf, revealing a door behind it. I put the key in the keyhole, twist it, and it finally unlocks.

The door itself had no handle, which made it seem difficult at first sight. However, the only door handle available is on the back of the door. The goal is to keep this location secret. The only explanation for the lack of a door handle is to prevent students from barging anytime they want if ever they do discover this location.

I pushed the door and stood to the side, motioning Lauren to head in first.

"Don't worry. I have no intentions of murdering you," I say, "Ladies first."

She rolls her eyes as I hear her snicker at my words.

I close the door behind me as I enter after her. I watch her in awe again. The place, surrounded by paintings, portraits, and landscapes that cover most of the walls. Paintings that date back to the eighties and nineties.

"Pretty cool, right?" I say as she nods her head in silence.

"So, how do you even close the door once you head out?" She asks.

"You place the key into the hole and hold onto the key as you pull the door to close. It's not really that complicated as you may think it is."

She nods her head as she eyes the small space that we both share.

"How did you find this place?" She asks as she eyes the painting on the wall, walking towards it as she inspects it. The placard below the painting reads Perfect Yesterday, 1947. Johannes Devon.

The artwork depicts events during World War I. Since no one knew what will happen the next day.

"Ms. Jensen told me that the reason why the title of the painting was 'perfect yesterday' was that yesterday seemed so perfect, but then came tomorrow—a tragedy that no one ever thought would occur that changed everyone's lives," I said as she continues to stare at the painting.

"I helped Ms. Jensen here at the library during my free time in exchange for a huge discount on the tuition fee. I told her how I go on these adventures with a girl who loves to see paintings," Lauren looks at me, crossing her arms to her chest. "She then told me that she enjoys collecting paintings. She collected so many that she ran out of room in her home. She wanted to bring them here, and instead of adding more books, she asked the owner of the school if she could make this room as storage."

"And then she became preoccupied with her job here in the library, where she had been trying to capture students, whom, most of the time at recess or lunch, are making out in specific areas. She's really fond of me, you know," I smirked at Lauren as she snickered to herself, "And she says that I could bring you here—unless you keep this a secret. If not, I guess I have no choice but to actually murder you."

She raised her hand and did a cross sign to her chest, "I promise I'll keep this a secret."

She laughs.

"Why are you laughing? Stop laughing. This is a serious matter," I told her.

She clears her throat and forces herself to stop. She then says, again, "I promise I will keep this a secret. If I break this promise, I'll give you the permission to murder me."

I nod my head then we started breaking into laughter.

❀

I waited outside the counselor's office as I waited for the student inside to leave the room. When the door opened, I quickly stood up. I exchanged looks with the student before entering the office.

As I sat down in the chair, I swung my bag in front of me and placed it on the floor.

"I got a report that you skipped three classes today," As I stayed quiet, she tells me that. Her face is expressionless as she looks at me. I see her getting up from her chair and going around the table. She smacks my head as soon as she approached me.

I wince in pain as I look up at her, "Why'd you do that?" I rub the area where she smacked me.

"To help you wake up," She smiles at me. "I thought that we made it clear that you'll be good? Why am I receiving a report from your teachers about this? Especially when the school has just started?" Aunt Kendra seems so furious it makes me want to laugh.

"I am being good, and school started a month ago," I defended myself. "I was at the library with Lauren."

"I didn't advise you to approach her for you to let her jump in on your buffoonery!" This time, she smacks my arm as I rub it gently.

"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. "You said I should try approaching her, and I did. I just wanted to be friends with her and get to know her, too," I added.

Aunt Kendra sighs, "You can do that but not during class hours! Do you want Sarah to know about this?" she raises an eyebrow as she stares at me.

I shake my head exaggeratedly, "I'm really sorry. It wasn't my intention to skip classes, believe me," I pleaded, "And please, don't tell mom."

She walks back around the table and sits on her chair across from me, rolling her eyes.

"What did you do in the library?" Aunt Kendra asks demandingly, her eyebrow still raised. She cocks her head to the side.

"Just reading books," I lied. "I also helped Ms. Jensen arrange the books on the shelf by order."

The last statement was true. Lauren went to her second class after I showed her the hidden space at the back of the library. At the time, I didn't feel like going to class. The encounter with my father at the mall was still fresh in my mind. I thought it would be better to clear my head by helping out at the library rather than showing up to class looking like I'm about to murder anyone if they ever approach me.

"You can ask her and confirm it if you don't believe me," I surrendered both of my hands in the air the moment Aunt Kendra squints her eyes at me.

I didn't know that going to school here to start fresh would have terms and conditions, such as a person being involved.

She told me that I should try to get to know Lauren and that I wouldn't regret meeting her if I did; she was right about that. Before I hated the idea of involving with a specific person that my aunt had in mind but now, I don't seem to be regretting that I got to know a bit about Lauren.

On the other hand, I'm not sure how I'm going to tell Lauren about this. I don't want her to assume that I became friends with her because my aunt told me to.

"How's your relationship with Lauren?" She asks, "Has she started opening up to you lately?"

My aunt was really concerned about Lauren. She told me that Lauren was never forthcoming when she was here. She didn't tell me the rest but she was rather concerned with her communication skills.

Every two weeks, they have sessions. I was hesitant when I first confronted Lauren. I wasn't sure it would work out. When I met her by the lockers, I didn't know it was really her until she told me her name and when she told me something about what seemed to be the most important thing to her, I knew that I couldn't just leave her. It's like her eyes spoke to me. She wanted someone and a part of me wanted to be that person.

"She does open up to me, but I can't tell you anything because it stays between us," I throw a wink at my aunt as she chuckles at me.

"That's good," she says, "Just remember to be mindful when you are around her. She's still fragile."

She is, and despite her fragility, I want her to feel as though she can break away from her shell at any moment when she's with me.