2.1

We arrived at the School an hour late. I was terrible at the whole riding thing, and that took us about 50 minutes. I parked the bike and turned the engine off while she ran to catch her class. I grabbed the helmet and walked towards the library. I had the reporting letter in my pocket.

The hall ways were empty which was normal, as the classes were going on. I didn't remember my childhood days. I felt a little empty inside for a moment. She was there in one of the classes that I passed on the way to the library.

As I entered the huge room filled with books and the smell of pages, I saw nothing but shelves and empty tables. There was a middle aged guy behind the front desk. I walked up to him.

"Hello I am A-"—me.(he stopped me mid way)

"I know who you are."—middle aged guy.

"you do?"—me.

"yes...you are my slave."—middle aged guy.

"excuse me."—me.

"I mean you are my assistant."—middle aged guy.(laughs)

"yes--"—me.

"and you are an hour late."—middle aged guy.

"I am sorry-"—me. I looked at the tag pinned to his shirt near his right chest pocket.

'Harry'

"I am sorry Harry, I am just learning the new streets...you know I am not from around here."—me.

"Yes off course, you are the retarded friend of the hot history teacher."—harry.

"hot history teacher? Is that what they call her?"—me.

"Not in front of her...behind her back offcourse."—harry.

Harry came out of the desk area with a couple of books he finished stamping while talking with me. He walked towards the farthest shelve in the corner.

I just realised then that I had never known her name, well I doubted if she knew her name in the first place. But still I thought that we needed some names to call each other. This 'hey', 'you' and 'I' was getting old.

"What is her name?"

"you don't know what is your friend's name?"—harry.

"well you know I am still recovering from the addictions so the details are a little hazy."-me(laughs)

"I see...well her name is--...(to be continued)