Page 68 of Darkness Defined

I scanned the next page. I’d lost count how many times I’d read it since he’d pulled up.

“Alex, look at me.”

I took a deep breath and did as he asked. Ice-blue eyes snared me, just like they always did. I felt like a fly caught on a web and I didn’t even have the luxury of pretending that he didn’t notice anymore.

“I won’t use the book without you.”

“Matt, I don’t think-”

“You know what I think?” he cut me off. “I think you need to get your head out of your ass and start acting like my friend.”

I was completely taken aback. “Why do you want to do a project with me, anyway?”

“Because you’re my friend and you’re the only one worth doing a project with. Now get off your ass.” He hooked my arm and hoisted me out of my chair. “If we’re going to use that book, then we’re going to need some reference materials,” he declared, then commenced dragging me over to the stacks.

His grip was like a vise, as if he was worried I’d bolt if he let go. Truthfully, I might have given the opportunity, but by the time towering shelves of books surrounded us, I’d given up fighting him. He finally released me and started thumbing through spines.

“You’re more familiar with the memoir. What sort of references do you think we’ll need?” He pulled out a dusty tome and flipped through it. “Translators for sure. Maybe even genealogy texts.” When I didn’t move or respond, he glanced over at me out of the corner of his eye. “Are you going to help or just stand there? Come on, what do we need?”

“You know, you can be really demanding.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be my partner?”

I hesitated. That was a loaded question if I’d ever heard one. “No,” I replied awkwardly.

“Good, then get to work.”

I rolled my eyes and started perusing the options. At least we were in the right section of the library. “We’ll definitely need an old English translator and Latin, of course. I’m a little rusty,” I added.

“Of course, you know Latin,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t say I know Latin. It’s just been a while since I looked up some of those passages.”

“Whatever you say, Alex.”

I scowled at his blatant sarcasm, which he pointedly ignored. “You know what,” I looked around at the faded titles, “I think we’re in the wrong aisle. These are translations. We need translators.”

He swiveled around and began marching down the aisle. At the end, he hooked a right to go to another row.

“Wrong way,” I called after him. Almost immediately, he crossed back the other way. “You are absolutely ridiculous,” I said when I caught up to him.

He spun to face me, his blue eyes holding a touch of heat. “Look, we both know that Demonic History will never be my best class. It is, however, yours. So, if you could stop being selfish for one minute and give me a hand, I would really appreciate it.”

I was thoroughly ashamed of myself. Here I was, being so stuck in my own head that I couldn’t even be there for my friend. He wasn’t exaggerating that history wasn’t his best subject. He’d need a stellar project if he had a hope of doing anything more than scraping by with a pass.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I glanced around at the books surrounding us. “This seems more promising. Now, if I’m looking at this right, the old English should be on this side.” I indicated the shelves closest to Matt. “See if you can find one that has old English and middle English. I’m going to go a little further down to see if I can scare up a decent Latin one that’s not overly convoluted.”

“Okay.” He instantly turned to inspect the bindings for a relevant title.

I left him to it and walked away to see if I could accomplish my task. After about half an hour, I had a couple of hopefuls, but the sounds of Matt’s frustration were only increasing.

“What’s the matter?” I asked in too loud a whisper. The noise earned me a shush from someone sitting at a nearby table. I grabbed my small assortment and walked back to where he was. Knowing Matt, he would shout and get us both scolded, or worse, kicked out.

“Are you sure we need middle English?”

“I feel like it would be prudent.”

“Prudent or not, I don’t think it’s here.” He huffed.