Meg always felt weird walking into the main branch of the Boston Public Library. It felt a bit like walking into a church, or another place of worship for a religion to which she didn’t belong. She was not a reader and had no great love for literature. She was a literary atheist, and she didn’t belong there. She was disrespecting the sanctity of the place by just walking inside of it.
She didn’t think she imagined the harsh looks the librarians sent her as they pushed their overflowing carts through the stacks. Even the books seemed to be scolding her as she walked by them, whispering to another, fanning their pages at the heathen in their midst.
When Lucy walked into a library, she was quiet and reverent, more sedate than she ever was in morning chapel. Books were her religion, the library her great cathedral. It was a fervor Meg did not share.
Johanne also loved the library and preferred to hold their study sessions at the large central branch. She liked being among the serious scholars as they did research and pieced together their dissertations. Meg didn’t like the hot, stuffy library. The dust made her sneeze, and there were usually more homeless people than scholars, camped out at the study tables.
“So you came.” Johanne looked up from her flashcards when she saw Meg hovering above the table. Her notebook was open, as was her English text. She had two pens to her left and three highlighters, in three different colors, on her right. It looked like some elaborate place setting.
Meg didn’t say anything. She just sank down into the seat opposite Johanne.
“You missed our last study session. And the one before that. And the one before that. I thought you were avoiding me.”
“I’ve just been busy.” Meg stared at the highlighters, so she wouldn’t have to stare at Johanne’s face. “You know.”
“Of course.” Johanne blinked away the tears and straightened her spine. “Lucy. It’s always about Lucy. The world revolves around her, I guess.”
“Can’t we just get down to business?”
“Fine. Let’s go over the notes for Religious Studies.” Johanne opened her notebook and began shuffling through the pages. “You have that test on Tuesday, right?”
Johanne started reading some ancient religious doctrine. Meg tried to concentrate, but the view outside the library windows was just too tempting. It had just started to snow, and the city outside sparkled, like it was frosted with sugar. She imagined a horse-drawn sleigh appearing on the street below, with tiny silver bells jingling away. Then she could be Barbra Stanwyck in Christmas in Connecticut or maybe Joan Fontiane, sitting in a study in Mandelry, waiting for Mr. DeWinter to roll up in a tiny little sports car, looking dashing and wind-swept, and oh so inaccessible.
Of course, the person she fantasized strolling through the city with was a lot more disheveled than Laurence Olivier, and only slightly less inaccessible.
She sighed, her eyelids growing heavy as she listened to Johanne droning on about the differences between cardinal sins and venial sins. Lust was most likely a venial sin, but acting on that lust was most definitely a cardinal one.
Meg wanted to commit many cardinal sins with Ian.
She wished she could tell someone. She longed to describe, in detail, the way her heart seemed to break free from its veins and arteries and swirl like a catherine wheel on crack whenever Ian turned and looked at her. If only she could study him instead of studying religion or geometry. She could write paragraphs about the lovely little crinkles that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and pose a hypothesis about his mysterious ethnicity. It would be a relief to talk about all of this, especially with someone like Lucy, who was so knowledgeable about the inner workings of boys.
All of that was wishful thinking. Declarations of love and lust would have to wait.
Lucy didn’t like Ian.
“He’s a creep,” she’d said, just that morning. Ian had been waiting for them at the bus stop. He’d tried to talk them into cutting school and going sledding on the Common. Lucy grumbled about him the whole ride to school. She couldn’t make up her mind what insult suited him best. She bounced between weirdo and loser until she finally settled on Manic Pixie Douchebag.
Lucy might have a different opinion of Ian if she knew how he had saved Meg at Jefferson. Meg considered telling her, but then she’d have to admit what had happened at Jefferson. She didn’t want any part of the old Meg intruding on her new life at Rose. No one could ever know the truth.
Except for Ian, of course, but it didn’t look like he was in a rush to tell anyone either.
“Meg.” Johanne’s stern voice forced Meg out of her daydreams. “You’re not listening.”
“I’m sorry, Jo. I was just…”
“My time is valuable, Meg. If you’re not willing to do the work, I’m not going to tutor you anymore.” She closed the notebook. “Besides, what if Lucy found out we were studying together. Wouldn’t she be mad?”
“It was your idea to help me. I didn’t ask you to do any of this.” She looked over at Johanne. “Can you blame Lucy for being pissed at you? After what you did?”
Johanne folded her arms.
“What I did?” Johanne folded her arms. “Ok. This should be interesting. What did Lucy tell you I did?”
“She didn’t tell me anything. I figured it out on my own.”
“Well, what happened then?”
“She told you about the man in the apartment upstairs. And you told your pal Sister Deirdre. She told Lucy’s parents, and now they think she’s some nymphomaniac and won’t let her out of the house.”
Johanne nodded her head.
“Ok. Yes. That’s what happened. So, you think I’m an ass for telling Sister Deirdre.”
“I think it was a betrayal. Yes. How could you have done that to Lucy? She was your best friend. She trusted you.”
“Let me ask you a question. You’ve been friends with her for a while. Do you think her relationships with men are completely normal and healthy?”
Meg fiddled with the cover of her notebook and struggled to think of something to say.
“Why’d you do it, Johanne?”
“I know you won’t believe me, but I wasn’t trying to hurt Lucy. I was worried about her.” Johanne picked up the highlighter and started spinning it like they were playing a game of spin the bottle. “I’m still worried about her. So I went to a person I could trust to ask for help. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Isn’t that what guidance counselors are for?”
“Sister Deirdre is evil.”
“She’s not evil. She was right to tell Lucy’s parents. What if that man had assaulted her? It’s not a game. But if she doesn’t realize that, if it’s easier for her to be pissed at someone, it might as well be me.”
She let go of the highlighter, and it spun around one last time before it stopped. The tip was pointing toward their toothless neighbor. Meg imagined Johanne walking over to him and kissing him, and felt her stomach sour at the thought.
“Lucy’s parents completely overreacted. They are way too strict with her.”
“Maybe they need to be.” She snatched the highlighter off the table and kept it secure in her fist. “You’ve seen the type of guys she sleeps with. They’re all losers, and some of them are dangerous. She’s going to get hurt one of these days, and I’m not talking about a broken heart or anything.”
“Those guys are harmless.” Meg laughed. “Scott? He’s an idiot.”
“The guy she dated before wasn’t. I’m pretty sure he was a drug dealer or something.”
“But she got rid of him, didn’t she? Like you said before, Lucy doesn’t get attached. Lucy can take care of herself, better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“You really think that?” Johanne cocked her head. “Then you don’t know her at all. She’s got a real self-destructive streak. Maybe it’s because of what happened to her. I don’t know. I’m not a psychologist. That was my problem,” she said, looking so sad Meg feared she would start to cry for real. “I didn’t know how to help her.”
“When I went to Sister Deirdre,” she confessed. “I didn’t use Lucy’s name, but of course she put two and two together. She promised to help. She cares about her students.”
“She cares about impressing college recruiters. She cares about getting rich alumnae to denote money for new Lacrosse jerseys. She doesn’t give a shit about us, Johanne.” Meg snickered and shook her head. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”