Playing the Player(17)

Library? She’d better have something really awesome planned or else the kids would freak. And I’d totally support them if they did.

I rolled over in bed, determined to sleep until my alarm woke me at eight.

Another text woke me at six fifteen, like a frigging snooze button.

Slade? R u there? LMK you got this.

Got it. C u at 9. I hit send and powered off my phone.



Three hours later, Max and I pulled into an almost empty library parking lot.

“Do you like the library, Slade?” Max asked me as we crossed the lot.

“Uh, sure buddy. I mean, I used to. I haven’t been here since I was a little kid.” I wondered if the kids’ section still had the puppet theater. That had been my favorite part.

The automatic doors swooshed open and we saw Trina and Gilly waiting in front of the check out desk.

“Max! Slade!” Gilly shrieked when she saw us, and the librarian behind the desk glanced up, smiling. Maybe librarians had lightened up since I was a kid. I remembered getting shushed a lot.

Unlike Gilly, Trina didn’t scream with excitement at the sight of me. She stood with her arms crossed, glowering. Usually I liked it when girls crossed their arms like that, because it pushed up other body parts.

Wait, what the hell was I thinking? Trina wasn’t a girl. She was more like a robot disguised as a girl.

“You’re late,” she announced.

I looked around at the empty library. “Yeah, it was crazy. We had to drive in circles waiting for a parking spot. Almost as bad as a concert at Red Rocks.”

Trina’s glare intensified, and her chest shifted higher. Why was I noticing this?

Gilly and Max ignored us and took off running for the kids’ section. This time the librarian did glare. “No running in the library,” she hissed, but the kids didn’t slow down.

“God, Slade.” Trina dropped her arms in frustration and stalked after the kids.

The librarian smirked at me as I followed Trina. They were probably best friends, bonding over boring encyclopedias or sappy romance novels. Ugh.

Max parked himself in front of the science picture books while Gilly headed for the small theater with the cutout window.

“Awesome. It’s still here.” I plopped down in front of the theater. “Show me what ya got, Gilly.”

She grinned, then ducked so I couldn’t see her behind the cardboard fa?ade.

Trina and Max whispered behind me, having an intense discussion about how many books he could check out at one time.

A few other kids wandered in, drawn like magnets to the theater. Apparently the library was the place to be on a Wednesday morning. I noticed the moms looked tired. No wonder Mrs. G. had been so happy to see me that morning.

A little girl wearing a tiara and a Snow White costume peeked behind the puppet stage. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Getting ready for a show,” Gilly whispered back loudly. “You should watch. It’s gonna be great.”

I liked a girl with confidence.

Gilly popped up, peeking out of the stage window. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen! It’s time for the show!”

Suddenly I was surrounded by little kids. A few of them leaned against me like I was a giant pillow. Max settled himself on my lap. The moms watched from the overstuffed couch underneath a window.

Trina stood off to the side, biting her lip and looking anxious. Man, that girl was wound tight. What could she possibly be worried about here?

Gilly disappeared from view and two Muppets appeared in the window: a faded, bedraggled Elmo, and a Miss Piggy whose long blonde hair had been chopped off, making her look punk.

“What are we doing today?” asked Miss Piggy.

“I don’t know,” squeaked Elmo. “What do you want to do?”

“Don’t ask me!” Miss Piggy said. “I’m crabby Trina. You’re the playboy with the fun ideas!”

All the kids giggled, and the moms on the couch tittered.

Holy. Crap. I glanced at Trina. Her dark eyes stood out against her pale skin, making her look like a statue. A very fragile statue ready to crack.

I needed to stop Gilly before things got worse.

Punk Piggy bounced in the theater window. “You’re so handsome, Slade. Maybe we should go on a date.”

Oh no.

Max groaned on my lap. The little girls sitting by me giggled and leaned forward in anticipation.

“I don’t date mean girls,” said Elmo. “You have to be nice if you want a kiss from a playboy.”

One of the moms snorted with laughter.

“Hey, Gilly,” I interrupted, afraid to look at Trina, “Let’s take a br—”

“Shh!” Every little kid in the room turned to me, fingers on their lips. Those librarians had trained them well.

“I am nice!” yelled Miss Piggy. “I’m just having MPS.” Then Miss Piggy launched herself at Elmo, making loud kissing noises, while the moms on the couch fell out laughing.

Max looked up at me, frowning. “What’s MPS?”

Trying to hold in laughter, I darted a glance at Trina just in time to see her turn away from me, her pale face now flushed. She hurried toward the cardboard stage and knelt down, reaching for Gilly.

“No!” Miss Piggy yelled. “We’re not done!”