Dateless

by Emily Evans

  He was onto something. Not because of the impressive mechanics behind the book room, which enthralled him. But because all the authors we’d been talking about this summer were shelved out there together, those authors and more. It was the ultimate literature collection. “Yeah. I agree. Let’s do that.” We went to the middle of the library where the massive glass tower served as the library’s heart. All those books. They’d take a lifetime to read and sort. Some old, some new. What a treasure.

  Wythe stared at it, and his expression held a similar awe. I knew he was impressed with the building design more than the ink on pages, but I loved that he could find something to relish here.

  “Lean in with me.” I turned my back to the books, and Wythe put his arm around me and tilted his head against mine. We looked like a happy couple. My eyes were a little too bright, a little too excited at being here with him. My smile faltered, and I angled the phone for the best picture. I typed in our answer and sent it off. Nothing happened. No flash, no cheers, nothing. It didn’t feel right. Anticlimactic or something.

  Wythe swiped one of his hands over the other in one of those ‘washing his hands of this’ gestures. He looked satisfied. “We’ve aced this class. Now, we go to the play. You’ll get your final intern point. Fair’s fair.”

  I wanted to make the play, I did, but I couldn’t shake my doubts. “I don’t know. Is this what victory feels like? I don’t feel like we’ve won. Like it’s over. There’s no clear finish line, champagne, or cheering crowd.”

  Agreement flashed on his face, but then he shook his head. “Those are very American expectations. This isn’t a boat race.”

  “But it is sort of a race. Us against the class. I know you feel it, too.”

  His eyes looked like stubborn blue resistance, and then his shoulders dropped. “We’ve guessed wrong.”

  I thought so, too, and it was our last day. This was it. It wasn’t the first time I found myself in this position—not a winner. And it still bit at me. I’d been naïve enough to think my luck had changed. Whether I gave a massive effort or not, I ended up coming up short. We’d be heading to the Harry Potter play now, which would be awesome, but making a matinee showing didn’t leave us any time to regroup here at the library. I didn’t know what to say. I’d wanted to ace this for him.

  The anomaly of clicking heels on library tile, a place more used to tennis shoes or comfortable flats, drew my attention to the doorway. Peppa and Vihaan walked past. Them. Again.

  Wythe saw them, too. I grabbed his arm and drew him away, into a side room. This one was modern and filled with study desks. “How are they here?” I kept my voice low even though they weren’t in the same room. “Even when we guess wrong, they’re here.”

  “They got it wrong, too.”

  “That’s not possible.” They had to be following us. I knew the answer then as sure as I knew where Texas was on a map. “They’re cheats. English cheats.”

  He stiffened.

  “How else are they doing this?” I shook my head. “It’s every time. Is Peppa tracking us?”

  Wythe strode from the room toward where we’d last seen the other couple. Peppa and Vihaan hadn’t gone far; they stood in the middle of the foyer.

  “Wait.”

  He didn’t wait.

  Peppa didn’t even seem surprised to see us. She looked as polished and put together as she did at the house. She shifted her gaze away. Vihaan tilted his chin up. Guilty gestures. I should have seen it sooner.

  “How are you here?” Wythe’s tone said, Lie to me and I will pull that rack of books down on you.

  Vihaan’s gaze darted around the library as if looking for the finish line or an escape. “We figured it out. This is the place.” He was fidgety, and his voice pitched high.

  I didn’t believe him, though it was logical. Every author was here. But it was also obvious. All the authors were here. British authors. Memorialized in print. Forever. My heartbeat sped up. I knew a better answer. The ultimate answer. I knew where we needed to go.

  “Did someone on the library council tip you off to be here?” Vihaan asked, his voice deep now and rather accusing.

  Wythe’s expression tightened. “We came up with this on our own. How are you here?”

  I needed to get Wythe away from here without them seeing.

  “Is it over then?” Peppa asked, her voice annoyed. “You won then?”

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  Vihaan’s nose wrinkled, and then his expression turned faux jovial with one of those toothy smiles that didn’t show in his eyes. “A win, huh? Good job, mate. Pays off to have a mom at the top, eh?”

  Wythe didn’t respond to the dig. “You’re always right behind us. How’d you choose this place? Why now?”

  Peppa shifted, making her shoes click. “We figured it out.”

  That’s how she was going to play it. Nothing she said would change things anyway. We needed to leave.

  I jerked my thumb toward the Austen room. “I chose it because Mom took us here to see Jane Austen’s desk. I thought of this place right away,” I half lied. Those lies were the most believable. A little truth always sold the lie. “The Austen desk. You know. The finish line.” That would move them away from us. Vihaan’s eyes gleamed. Peppa’s mouth twisted. Maybe asking for the truth would get them to go away. “What exactly led you here?” It was so improbable that they were here at the same time as us. Especially when I’d realized that the finish line wasn’t really one place. It could be a different place for each team and still be right. The possibilities of literature were that varied. It was impossible for them to keep showing up in the same locations as us. They weren’t doing it again.

  “Sounds like you’re accusing us.” Vihaan drew up straight.

  Obviously.

  “Answer the question,” Wythe said.

  Vihaan shrugged. “Your man, your driver, tipped us off.”

  That shouldn’t shock me, but it did. That went beyond cheating.

  Vihan crossed his arms over his chest. “And? We all know you’re the one with the real advantage. Your mom’s PM, mate.”

  Wythe clenched his fists. A flush hit the top of his cheekbones.

  Wythe’s position came with as many drawbacks as it did benefits. If he’d had his wish, he’d be anywhere but a library. I moved in front of him and faced Vihaan. “Grow up. Everyone has advantages. Some are smarter, richer, faster, kinder, more talented. That’s how the world works. But you work with your gifts; you don’t cheat. You are cheats.” It annoyed me when Peppa pointed. I figured it would bother them, too. I pointed at them. “You’re not the only team I saw coming in here. You’re probably in third place by now.” I hadn’t seen another team, but I lied so they’d go away. “Did you spot the other team? The two guys by the cello-playing unicorn?” A little detail helped flesh out a lie, and I had no problem lying to them now. They were not sneaking around after us this time.

  Vihaan narrowed his eyes and looked away. “We are going to come in third.” He sounded pissed and stressed.

  Peppa cleared her throat. “Well. It’s appropriate that we give it our all to win. It’s…” Even she couldn’t finish. “Another team is here? Have they been to the desk? Where is the desk exactly?”

  The audacity. She wanted us to help them beat another team. I gave her a look that said exactly what I thought about that.

  “We’d better be going now.” Vihaan turned away, his dark eyes searching the room.

  Peppa nodded. “Let’s go.”

  They left us and that gave Wythe and me a small window to get away without them seeing and trailing us. “We need to go.”

  “I’ll call for another car.” Wythe’s eyes flashed, and his voice was tight. “I won’t have you in the car with a driver willing to take a bribe.”

  I’d think about how dangerous that was later. The risk. Well, maybe the driver just did it because it was Peppa, and not a real threat. But still. The lack of ethics. The lack of fair play. The driver was
straight up wrong. “No time.” I pulled Wythe down, so I could whisper in his ear. “Let’s take the tube to Westminster.”

  He looked blank. Clearly, he had no idea how to take the underground train to his own neck of the city.

  My lips twisted up. “You should really go on a tour of your own city sometime. It’s quite wonderful. I’ll tell you my brilliant thought on the way.” I hooked my arm in his.

  “The guards.” He wore a doubtful expression.

  “Your guards should have caught the driver. I trust none of them.” My words were fierce. That had nothing to do with this game. He grinned and touched a finger to my cheek. It froze me.

  “Where are they?” Peppa’s overloud voice came from the door to the gallery.

  Was she already done? Though really, how long did it take to snap a selfie and send in a guess? And when they didn’t get bells and whistles for their ultimate answer either, she must have figured we’d tricked her. I liked that. It gave me a little peace in this unjust situation. She’d rather cheat than come in second place. If we took second place, at least we earned it honestly. That was something to be proud of. And weirdly, with that acceptance of not winning, I was confident we would win. “Come on.” I grabbed Wythe’s hand, so we could run.

  “Kira?” Peppa yelled. Someone shushed her.

  I didn’t answer her. We reached a long row of bookshelves. I pulled Wythe in. Maybe this wasn’t the way to the underground, but we had to lose the other couple first. No way did they deserve to ride on our backs any longer. My heartbeat picked up its pace with my stealthy actions.

  “Kira?” Peppa said again.

  I stopped and held my finger to my lips. Standing here still with my heart pounding wasn’t going to hide us. I opened a book over my face like I was reading and thrust one at Wythe.

  Wythe made a strangled sound.

  I looked over the top of my book. “Shh.”

  He was holding his book at normal reading level, which defeated the purpose, his face wasn’t hidden at all. His eyebrows were arched, and his cheeks were flushed.

  What the…? I dropped my gaze to the book… and it… well… Heat hit my own face. The book was titled something dirty.

  He turned the page.

  A tri-fold fell from the center. We were in the naughty section of the library. I shoved my book back, grabbed his, and returned it the shelf, too. When the library said it had over fourteen million books, a copy of every book that the UK published, they meant everything. We were not getting caught here. “Come on.” I drew him even deeper into the maze of bookcases. At this point, I doubted I could find our way out. But at least the titles weren’t risqué. These were tomes on land masses and agriculture practices.

  “Neigh.”

  The weird sound pulled my attention off the Farmers’ Almanac.

  I went forward.

  Ahead of me, on the floor, lay a discarded pink sparkle belt entwined with a blue studded one. I picked them up. Unicorn Romance fans.

  I went farther in, Wythe following.

  Masquerade face masks painted as female and male unicorns lay alongside two sets of horns and one discarded rose wreath. Petals led away from the pile. Curiouser and curiouser.

  Peppa’s voice came from several stacks away. “Kira, I know you’re in here. I just want to talk. It would be appropriate if we sat down together. You know there’s nothing with the Austen desk. Right? Kira?”

  Yikes, she was close. I stiffened.

  “Shhh.” Some patron hushed Peppa, and I cheered them internally.

  “Well, you don’t understand…” Peppa argued with the patron. So like Peppa to do that.

  We had no choice. We had to go deeper in or risk being spotted. I took Wythe’s hand and turned the corner. I stopped so quickly he bumped into me and had to grab me to keep from knocking me over. I didn’t mind. I never minded his hands on me.

  In front of us lay two abandoned full body unicorn suits.

  Knowledge hit me with a weird flush as if I’d just bitten into the apple at the Garden of Eden. A couple up ahead was making out. Or more. Oh. No.

  Neighs.

  Yep. I removed two books at eye level and took a peek. Two Unicorn Romance fans were kissing. I fanned my face, and then shoved the books back. I knew what had to be done. My face was pale or heated or both, so I didn’t glance at Wythe as I scooped up the discarded gear… a perfect disguise. Sorry, fans, I have greater need today.

  Wythe, catching onto my intent right away, shook his head at me.

  Oh, he was doing it. I waved my hand in a fast roll at him, conveying the urgency of the situation. No choice. Be quick. We zipped on the discarded white fur unicorn bodysuits, donned the masks, and ran, carrying the other gear. He was soon ahead of me. I kept slipping on the smooth tile floor; the cloth hooves made it impossible to stay up. I slid my feet, like I was on ice skates, which gave me better purchase. I skated up to Wythe, who was far ahead of me.

  He wore the suit and mask, but the blue studded belt dangled from his hand. Was that where he drew the line? The belt kept humans from seeing a unicorn’s magic. No unicorn would be caught in the human world without it. I was already warm in the suit, and the weight of the horn weighed me down. “Put it on,” I said, as soon as I caught up to him. I snapped on my own, clicking the little white plastic circles into the holes, leaving sparkles on my fingers. Click. Click. Click. Get with the program, Wythe.

  “Why? Just why?”

  His tone made me fight a smile, especially as it was emerging from behind the male unicorn mask. The British weren’t supposed to be fun. He was fun. “Put it on.”

  “I know where we are. I can get us out a side door. Or find the back.”

  His desperate pleas meant nothing. I had the solution. His would risk us being caught. “We’ll blend in if we go out the front, past the unicorn queue. That’s the best way. Like a unicorn gauntlet.”

  I couldn’t see his face, but I saw his reluctance in the slow movements of his hands. Our golden hand-hooves covered the back of our hands and were strapped on by an elastic strap over my palms. I had full finger mobility beneath the golden hooves. “Come on, Wythe, do this, blend in, and we’ll be out of here without getting spotted. Five more minutes.” I fought a laugh as I pressured him.

  He snapped on the belt as if he were sealing his fate. Snap. Snap. Snap. I put the slightly crushed wreath of pink roses on, maneuvering it over my horn so it could settle on my shoulders. The scent of roses overpowered me.

  “Only one wreath,” Wythe said, his tone dry as if he were disappointed.

  I didn’t explain to him the gender dynamic behind the rose wreaths. “Come on.” I skated away.

  We rounded the corner. A lone unicorn was typing on her cell phone. She gave us a half-hearted “neigh” and tilted her head to the left so we could tap horns. I clicked with her as I passed and hit Wythe in the arm and pointed so he’d know to do the same. Clink horns and no one would notice us. Refuse to do this unicorn-world mandatory courtesy and he’d draw attention to us. Attention we didn’t need.

  With a sick anticipation, my pulse was speeding up at even the thought of getting to the tube station. We were so close. I put the image of the London Underground map in my head. Partly to map-out what line we’d take from King’s Cross to get to Westminster. Partly to block out flashbacks of the unicorns kissing.

  Wythe jogged, I slid, and we’d almost made it to the library doors. I was so close. “We’re ‘living literature,’” I said, exhilarated. This was unlike any day I’d ever had.

  Wythe snorted.

  The line of unicorns had thinned out. Only a few late stragglers were coming into the signing now. Four came through the door where’d we’d be exiting. Four horn taps and we’d be out of here, and then we could disrobe on Euston Road. Success was so close.

  We passed the first guy. I leaned in. Horn tap.

  Wythe did the same and moved ahead of me. He knew the drill now. He bent down so that the blonde unicorn with
the oversized wreath could tap his horn. She neighed and backed up, bent her knee, and held out her hoof instead.

  Her hoof!

  She jiggled it.

  Wythe tilted his head in confusion and his horn almost poked the third unicorn.

  He raised his foot covered in the hoof cloth.

  My own horn weighed a thousand pounds as I rushed to Wythe. “No!” I said, barely stopping him from touching his hoof to hers.

  Chapter 20

  The unicorn woman backed up, stomping on the tile in a circle, and neighing loud enough that the sound echoed in my ears. I shoved Wythe to the door, ignoring the remaining unicorns altogether. I dragged him down the steps to the sidewalk, not even worried about slipping now. I didn’t even know what I was feeling—horror, jealousy, amusement? Probably all three.

  Wythe unzipped his costume as we ran and stopped at the first decent beech hedge we came to. “What?” He tossed his discarded onesie over the green border.

  I did the same. Belt, suit, mask, horn, wreath of roses. The couple had really gone all out. I hoped security found these and returned them, but honestly, if you’re going to strip down at the public library, you get what you get. Public love comes with public risks.

  “What?” Wythe asked again. “Why are you still smiling? You know there’s CCTV, right?”

  I laughed, feeling giddy, shoved at my hair that had to be a mess after all that gear, and pointed to the station. “The tube’s just there. We’re going to Westminster Abbey.”

  He grabbed my hand, and we hurried in and followed the signs for the Victoria line, tapping in to go through the turnstyle and then down a worn hallway to go underground. For once, this place didn’t smell like train exhaust and people because I could only smell the lingering fragrance of pink roses in my nostrils. We descended on the escalator, and I kept my gaze on the framed play posters, reining in my bubbling amusement.

  “What?” Wythe asked.

  I crossed my arm over my waist to hold in any more laughter. “You almost kicked hoofs. It’s like… knocking boots.” I giggled. “Is that a phrase that translates here?”