Bookshelf Boy

eight.

I FROWN AND and move a bit towards the figure too hard to decipher in the low light, but I only get about four steps in when a drunk-looking Lottie appears in front of me and beams, her eyes unfocused.

"Oh my God! Nora!"

I smile back, but it's distracted. "Oh, hey! Aren't you...aren't you controlling the music?"

She laughs at my confusion. "Lucas offered to take over for me for a little bit," she points, and sure enough, he's over by the speakers. His iPhone is connected to a cable, and his face is lit up by the screen as he scrolls on it.

"Ah, that's great—"

I don't even get to finish my sentence before she completely catches me off guard by stepping forward and taking my hands in hers like she's a doting grandmother. Her eyes are bleary as she says, "I know I already said this, but thank you so much for being Head Girl."

"Erm, it's alright, really—"

"You're like, the nicest person ever, Nora," she goes on, "seriously."

I entertain her with a laugh, even as I glance over her shoulder. They're still there on the floor, whoever they are. "I'm sure that's not objectively true."

She goes on, insisting that subjective points of views are just important, but I'm not really listening as I turn my head in desperate search for a way out of this. My eyes finally zero in on Lucas.

I look back at her. "Hey, I think Lucas is looking for you," I say, which isn't  a complete lie. His head is up from his phone and his eyes are scanning the room like he's searching for someone.

She doesn't even bother to check as she nods. God, she really must be out of it. "Oh, okay!" She waves goodbye to me and skitters off into the main area, letting the sea of people swallow her whole.

When she's out of sight, I stumble forward into the narrow, sad excuse of a hallway, where the person is. I don't expect to know them or recognise them, but then I catch a glimpse of thin-framed glasses and our school uniform and my heart stops, because it's Erin.

The president of Student Council. The David to Tamara's Goliath. And he's here, on the ground, in the middle of the party. At first I think he must be sleeping, but then he inhales sharply, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

He doesn't seem to hear me approach. I crouch in front of him so our knees are inches from each other. "Erin?"

When he still doesn't move, I reach out and lay a hand on his shoulder. It's shaking under my hand, and that's when I realise he's crying.

His head jerks up at my touch, and sure enough, his cheeks are wet. He blinks slowly, and another tear drips from his eye.

I have no idea what to say. I say the first thing that pops in my head. "Is...is Julian here?"

He shakes his head. And then he puts his face into his hands again and lets out a sob. My stomach twists. It's the most horrible sound I've ever heard, worse than I think I've ever cried in my entire life, and he's making these terrible gasping noises like he can't get enough air. I never want to hear it again.

I watch him break down until I can't anymore. "Erin," I say gently, trying to keep my voice steady, "what's wrong?"

He lifts his head from his hands and breathes shakily. His eyes are so, so red. "I just..."

The beat of a dubstep song drops. His mouth keeps moving, but it's all muffled.

I lean in closer and turn my head to offer him an ear. "What?"