Chasing Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page A

“So, Meegan,”
He says. “Don’t worry. I’m not telling or anything. I get it,
totally private, like emotionally heavy. But you should know, the
guys in the band will think this totally rocks. We’re like,
guaranteed to write a song about you.” He puffs up his considerable
chest. He is so proud of himself. He clearly doesn’t know I’d like
to kick his teeth in... He’s planning to tell his band ...
His fucking band. Fuck wad. He continues talking as I fume. I just
catch the end. “You know cause I like have you to thank for,
uh...”
    Fin smiles a big goofy grin and flips her dark
hair over her shoulder. The hair is long enough that it swats the
chair behind her where Ashley is sitting, with her back to the
group, pretending to read. Maybe she really is reading, whatever,
to me it looks like eaves dropping. “Yeah I never would have had
the guts to just ask you out like that if Meegan hadn’t said you
liked me. Meegan you are so totally perceptive.” Fin says. And now
I get a blast of the smitten smile from her. It’s disarming I’m
ashamed to admit.
    “Yeah so.” Doug shifts forward so his elbows
are on the table. “Fin’s coming to practice on Saturday, and if
you’re off, you should come too.”
    I try to keep a blank face. There is almost
nothing I am less interested in than watching a bunch of trendy,
douche bag, boys practice whatever trash chords they’ve managed to
string together into something called a song. There is a tiny
possibility that I am looking at a member of the next Nirvana, but
I doubt it. I open my mouth to voice some polite refusal when I see
Ashley’s smirk. So what comes out of my mouth is:
    “Sure. Sounds cool. What kind of music do you
guys play?” Oh God, I am going to regret this. Mentally I’m already
stealing myself and preparing a little list of compliments I’m
going to have to cop to.
    Shelving Fairy, no Fin, looks visibly relieved.
She doesn’t give Doug a chance to answer. “Oh thank God.” She says.
“I was sure you were going to say no, actually, and I only know
Doug, so I was really nervous about meeting his friends, uh, band
mates, by myself.”
    Doug runs a long bony hand through his hair and
I want desperately to smooth his eyebrows. I see Ashley get up so I
check my phone. 10:55. Time to check in.
    ***
    I saunter down the main aisle of non-fiction on
the second floor, pushing a cart of migrating books. Those are the
ones that move to other sections where they don’t belong during the
daytime. I keep a trash bag tied to my hip and disposable gloves in
my back pocket. So my walk has a sound track: crackle, swish,
crackle, swish as my hips move. No one else on my shift carries a
trash bag, but no one else stocks near so many of Flagship’s deep
window ledges. The ledges are wide enough to sit on, which of
course customers do. They wouldn’t, if they knew what I know. The
book shelves butt up to the windows, creating cozy nooks for
reading and quiet contemplation. For the homeless, crazy, or nasty
people of the city these are also excellent places to pee, jack
off, rip up books, eat stolen candy, throw trash, discard tampons,
leave condoms, etc. Once I found a used hair dye kit. Evidently
there was a customer who found it imperative to go auburn right
then . Like; ‘I’m just sick to death of this blonde, DAMN
IT!’
    I reach the history section and turn down the
medieval row. Stocking is awesome. It’s meditative, and just
engaging enough to keep me from over thinking all the other aspects
of my life. I am in the process of moving all the books over and
up, to make room for my re-shelves, when I see movement to my
right. I look there, to the window. I’m on the second floor like I
said. The plate glass is a big dark pool with city lights barely
visible beyond my own reflection. There it goes again. It’s a dark
little flicker, reminiscent of a bird but less solid. It’s right
there between the shelf and the window. It even has a reflection!
Oh