The Writer

Chapter Three

Waking up the next day filled me with a mix of dread and nervousness. When I'd gotten back to the residence building yesterday I hadn't found my journal in my drawers. Ollie had looked on at me as I groaned and nearly taken everything I'd put away apart in search of the book. I'd wanted to leave the building to go and look for it again, but Halimat had stopped me in the hallway on my way, telling me that we couldn't go out after eight unless we had a school ID card to check back in with, and I hadn't gotten mine yet.

I'd spent the rest of the night worrying, and rolling in bed, praying that whoever had found it had just quietly returned it to the lost and found room in the student union building without reading it.

I tried to comfort myself by telling myself that even if the person read it they didn't know me, and would just think it was a random story, not something as personal as it actually was.

At five in the morning, I stopped rolling around in bed and decided to get up. I left the room to take a shower before coming back and getting into a fresh set of clothes. I kept checking my phone, trying to wait out the time I had left until the student union building opened, which was at eight. When it was time, I left my room, heading down the stairs to the main lobby before leaving the building altogether in a hurry. I found myself half running, and half walking through the fifteen minutes' walk, and I only stopped to catch my breath when I got into the main building.

"Okay, where's the lost and found," I muttered to myself under my breath as I checked my phone for the building information. After a while of zooming in on the floor plans, I realized that the lost and found was just a tiny room attached to the library on the lower level.

So, the basement. I thought to myself as I headed for the elevators. I pressed the button to head to the lower floor, and I got out after the elevator stopped and its doors opened. I sighed in relief, since the first thing that greeted my eyes was the sign, Lost and Found right at the top of a door just across from me. I got out of the elevator, heading over to the door before opening it and walking in without another thought.

After looking around the almost empty room I turned to the one person that was there. "Hello, I'm looking for where to search for my lost stuff," I muttered to the lady behind the desk. She didn't say anything — she didn't even take her eyes off the monitor, but she pointed at a row of boxes towards the left of her table.

"Thank you," I said before heading to the plastic boxes. I made to look through them, hoping that my journal had been returned. My heart fell when I went through each box, one at a time, and I didn't find my book. I tried looking over each box again, convincing myself that I might have overlooked it, but the search was to no avail. The only thing inside the boxes were a handful of textbooks, some sweaters, and a pair of winter gloves. I sighed, giving up before making to leave the room.

The lady hadn't asked me if I'd found what I was looking for. I was sure she didn't even know I'd left the room.

What now? I asked in my mind. I hugged myself, trying to keep calm. Maybe whoever was with it was planning to drop it off later today? I ran a hand through my hair, closing my eyes as I tried to think of what to do next. Should I just head back to the main residence and wait for another few hours—

"Xander!" I frowned in confusion at the sound of my name being called out. I mean, Ollie was the only one who really knew me at the moment and he was still in bed, and there was no possible way he'd be at the student union building now. I looked about, my eyes widening when I saw Maxwell walking towards me as he waved a book he had in his hand.

"Hey! I was looking for you yesterday," he said when he stopped right in front of me. "This is yours," he said as he made to hand me the book.

My journal. I said in my mind, looking at the book like it was cursed, and infested with bacteria. Why is Maxwell with it? Did he read it? I wondered as I eventually took the book from him when he gave me a nudge with it. I felt both relieved and a bit scared, and I just stared down at the book, not wanting to look at Maxwell's freckled face at the moment. If I look up at him I might just pass out from a panic attack.

"Apparently, your book got under the table of the writing group's stand yesterday," Maxwell started explaining after a while. "They called me since we were talking together by the table that day. I was the only one who wrote my name and number down on the signup sheet, you took the link instead, remember?"

I just nodded, not trusting any combination of words that would leave my mouth at the time to make sense. I put the book in my bag, trying to get it out of sight at least.

"What? Is something wrong?" Maxwell asked me when I didn't say anything in response.

Did you read it? I wanted to ask him, but I didn't say anything out loud. If he could just give me a hint that he didn't open it — heck, even lied about it to just to ease my mind, that would be great.

"Did you read it?" I finally found the voice to ask, looking up at Maxwell. he had his red curls brushed back today, and he was wearing a pair of faded jeans and the school base camp shirt. Maxwell rose a brow at me at first, but he hummed in understanding when he seemed to figure out what I was talking about.

"Yeah, a few pages of it. I was curious since I always saw you writing back in high school — Xander?" I could feel the noise in the hallway fading out as I felt myself kind of go static from shook. I looked up at Maxwell when he shook me by the shoulders, but I couldn't really make out what he was saying. After a while, I calmed down, and the noise around came back to me like a fuzzy buzz before everything went back to normal.

"Xander, can you hear me?" Maxwell asked, still shaking me. I blinked, nodding before he let me go with a sigh of relief.

"God, you scared me," he said, frowning at me a bit as he let out a sigh of relief. "Are you okay? Do you need to go to the sickbay? We can go now—"

"How much?" I asked, cutting Maxwell off mid-sentence. He paused, looking over at me with a confused frown. His red hair moved to the side as he c****d his head at me.

"What?" he asked, just staring at me. I could see that some people sitting on the sofas and by the study desks placed against the walls were stealing glances at us. I didn't blame them, we'd put on quite a show.

"How much did you read," I said, making myself clearer. "How far did you go into the journal."

"A few pages, really. Like one-quarter of the book—"

"That's not a few pages," I said cutting him off. All feelings of shock had left my body and were now replaced with embarrassment and anger. Why had he read it? He could have just minded his business and handed it over to me like he was asked to.

He stared at me with a confused look, c*****g his head to the side. "Are you angry I read it? Do you think what you wrote was embarrassing? It wasn't, It's okay—"

"Why didn't you just mind your business and hand it back to me without opening it? You read it right? You could have figured out it was private stuff on the first page," I said, feeling my anger pour out. I was shaking with both anger and embarrassment. My face was warm, but my frown was deep and I couldn't stop myself from glaring at him. Maxwell just stared at me with a look I wasn't quite sure to describe.

"Now I feel stupid and ridiculous, thanks, I guess," I said, my voice coming out choked and shaky. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just hugged myself and tried to look anywhere but Maxwell. "What did you do when you read it, laugh at me? At my feelings?"

"Xander, nothing like that happened. You're just being paranoid. It's okay," he said, taking a step closer to that he was standing right in front of me. I stepped back a bit, a little overwhelmed by his closeness. I didn't want him near me. I felt like crying — running away.

"Paranoia an appropriate feeling at the moment, don't you think?" I asked, and Maxwell didn't say anything in response. After a while of just standing and saying nothing to each other, I made to leave. I walked passed him, heading for the elevators before heading out the main building. I half jogged, and half ran back to the first-year residential building, climbing the stairs before making a beeline for the bedroom I shared with Ollie.

When I got to our room I emptied my bad, picking up the journal that Maxwell had returned to me.

"Oh! You found it—" Ollie stopped talking as he watched me toss the journal into the trashcan under my study table before I put my bag away.

"Did something happen?" he asked me as I headed to my bed, making to crawl under the covers. I didn't answer him, and after a while of just staying fetal position under my duvet I heard him sigh.

I stayed in bed for the rest of the day, not wanting to go out in fear of meeting Maxwell somewhere along the way.