Twenty-one – Calvin

I wait around for the store to close and as soon as Baylee finishes her jobs, she takes me up a spiral staircase. The staircase comes up into a cosy, little break-room. There isn't much in the room, there's only two couches and a low coffee table to one side of the room and a line of counters against the other wall mixed in with a fridge and microwave. The walls are bare with random nails and hooks poking out as if pictures used to decorate them. It feels homely and somehow isolated at the same time.

Baylee leads me down a path that cuts through stray belongings and children's toys, stepping over a random cushion, "Don't mind the mess, one of the employees has a kid who stays up here some days."

She leads me across the room to a door and pushes it open. Behind the door is a small room, barely big enough to fit a single bed and a humble little desk. The bed is made with a faded red duvet and crisp white sheets.

I place my bag on the desk and Baylee turns to me, "It's not a lot and probably not what you're used to…"

She's definitely Lower-class. Only Lower-class' tend to say that.

"It's perfect," I say to her, giving her a reassuring smile.

"There's toilets down the hall before you go up the stairs if you need it," she points to the desk, "And in the top drawer, there's a pair of keys that will unlock the staff bathrooms and the back door."

"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here. I thought I might have had to sleep it out on some random bench or find a nice patch of grass to be honest." I can't believe I just brushed off breaking the law so lightly. I really don't think I could ever repay her.

She laughs, "No worries. Sorry if it's a bit unkempt. We haven't used upstairs as more than just a break room since we moved out-" Her face tenses up and looks at me to observe my reaction. No one is meant to reside in the Middle for any amount of time. That's why there's no residential area and no hotels or motels. It's illegal.

I barely react, "Baylee… It's okay. It's not like I would tell anyone. I mean," I hesitate for a second, "The reason I'm here is to find Oliver, even if I have to break class law and regulations."

"We only lived here while we got the business going," She says with a drawn-out exhale, "It was too expensive for Mum and Dad to rent this place as well as an apartment in Lower-class, so we had to make do. But since we found a place, this just became a breakroom to cover it up."

"I can imagine it would be expensive. I'm kind of surprised you didn't get caught."

She smiles once again, "I'm surprised you and Oliver haven't been caught."

She catches me off-guard and I have to fend off an intense blush. "Well... that might've changed."

We sat down and talked for some time. It was weird at first, I knew Baylee, but I knew nothing about her, and she knew nothing about me. But eventually, we were interrupted by another employee and shortly after Baylee, and everyone else, left, leaving me alone.

After a while I get rather peckish. The MacDonald's breakfast burger wasn't enough to keep me happy all day. I need to find somewhere to eat but there's not much debate on where I should go, so I set course for the 90's diner that Oliver and I ordered from on our first date.

Once again, I'm walking the streets of the Middle. The streets are full of people wandering from one place to another, but none of them even look at me, making me feel completely and entirely alone. I wish the streets were empty, that way I won't have to face the torture of hiding from all these witnesses, but the streets don't really empty until the later hours of the night. I'm not here with all these people, and I don't want to be. I want to be with Oliver. Taking him on a date to the 90's diner. Walking him through the streets, my hand in his and our arms brushing together occasionally. Him resting his head on my shoulder every now and again while he tells me about his day, how his Dad is and how horrible his maths teacher is. Talking back and forth about anything that takes our interest and ignoring the judgmental glares we get. Watching him as he takes in the world is one of the luxuries of being next to him. But I'm not, and he's gone.

I round the last bend and see the diner. A bright, red neon sign shines at me, The Red Grill. I've only been here once before, but I know the food is amazing and who knows, maybe there might be some clue. Maybe he even works here every afternoon, that's why we haven't been able to catch each other. I push through the doors and into the restaurant. The air carries a mouth-watering smell of so many different things. There's a sound of something sizzling, soft chatter and music. And the décor is amazing. They've got the classic black and white chequered patterns and red accents while still having a modern set-up. It's almost like this place defies the aging of time. Oliver just knows the nicest places.

As soon as it's in sight, I scan the kitchen. My hopes are too high, I don't know why I actually would think he'd be here. I know he's not and it's obvious. I do however see an employee and make direct and very awkward eye contact. I immediately break the contact and move to inspect the board, attempting to ignore my situation.

A guy waves me down from behind the counter, "Are you ready to order?"

Luckily for me, it's not the same guy that I shared an embarrassing moment with from the kitchen. I quickly order a chicken meal-deal with a lemonade then pay. The man hands me my receipt and order number and I retreat to one of the chairs along a bar table that overlooks the car park. Not a great view, but at least it's not the kitchen.

I sit down and readjust myself until I'm comfortable, then I go to pull my phone out of my pocket absentmindedly. I should've expected it to not be there, but when I realised it was gone, I had a mild heart attack, then remembered leaving it in my room. I regret not bringing it. I don't have music or anything to waste time on when I'm bored or need to get out of my head. Now, I have to find other things to keep me interested.

I watch out of the window, taking in the scenery of cars, concrete and crows destroying an empty packet of chips. Every now and again, glancing back at the serving bay, hoping my meal would show up already so I can leave already. This place is uncomfortable enough for me, even without the idea of Oliver.

I hear someone move beside me and a tray slides across the bench to me, "I hope you don't mind but I thought I might bring your meal out."

I turn around and see the exact guy I made eye contact with from the kitchen. He smiles encouragingly at me. I can't find the words to respond. "Uh, I... thank you."

Good job Calvin, just continue making it awkward why don't you.

The guy perks up at the praise. "No worries. I have a 10-minute break and it's always nicer to be able to chat with someone," He sits next to me, takes out a can of Coca-cola and snaps it open, "My name's Ace by the way."

I give him a nod of recognition and keep conversation simple, in hopes that he might just let me take my food and leave but my chances look slim, "Calvin."

"You go to Elite right?"

Elite is the nickname that the rich bastards gave to the school I attend. It's due to its reputation of producing top achieving students and sending you into debt unless you're from an affluent family. It's an amazing school, full of imprudent pricks who keep their money in the wrong places. I still don't even know how he would know me from Elite, I've never seen him and I've kept my head down for at least the past year. Besides, he doesn't look like he's even in my grade.

I try to remain casual, "What gave it away?"

He leans in against the bench, inching closer ever so slightly. "Well, you look the part first of all," he pauses a second, relishing the compliment as if he heard it himself, "But I feel like I've seen you around there. I've seen you around here too."

My attention peaks. Maybe if he's seen me, he knows Oliver too? I try to push the conversation, "I've only been here once before, uh, my friend suggested it."

He gives me a sidelong glance, "Yeah you rolled through with your Mercedes and that pretty boy by your side. I barely caught a glimpse of you, but I definitely remembered serving him. It was strange to see him in a Merc and I wanted to know whose it was."

"You mean Oliver?" I look over to him and I receive a massive smile.

"Oliver, huh? I could never remember his name. But if I knew he got around with Upper-class maybe I should've."

I resist the urge to protect Oliver's reputation from the gaping mouth of this asshole, gritting my teeth so I don't say something stupid. I have no idea who this guy thinks he is, so I flip the situation into something more useful. "You haven't seen him recently?" I press on, keeping my tone in check.

He switches positions on his seat, "No I haven't. I've barely seen him the past few weeks even."

Well... that was helpful.

I don't say anything and let Ace talk my ear off for a good few minutes about everything but something useful, just nodding along pretending I'm interested. He praises himself like there's a shrine with his name painted across it and recalls how he managed to catch Oliver's attention when he first noticed him, enthralled with enthusiasm. Funny because this self-absorbed prick doesn't realise how unimportant he is to Oliver, especially when compared to me.

"So have you got your number on you?" He asks slyly.

I roll my eyes and he laughs as if it was meant to be funny. "I'm taken."

He watches me for a second, his amber eyes gleaming under a mob of bleach-abused hair. If he wasn't a prick, he could be an attractive guy. Then his aura changes, and he sits back in his seat, now more relaxed. "Playing hard to get I like it, I think I'm already a step ahead of you though," he says a lot softer. Then he stands up and says a few more words before saying goodbye.

It only takes a second to understand what he meant by being 'a step ahead' as soon as I see a small folded up piece of paper on top of my drink. Ace's number, of course. I take my order, leaving his number on the tray and leave before he can realise.

I drag my feet along the pavement trying to make my way back to the library. Even since spending so much time in the Middle, everything here is so familiarly unfamiliar. I feel like I should know the streets and where everything is but truth be told, none of this maze is familiar to me. Not the westside office buildings nor the skyrises that are further east. Hell, I don't even know my way around the shopping district or Highland Park, and I've at least been there. Even before Oliver, when I would float around the streets and cause trouble with my old friends, I barely remember any of it. Call it jamais vu but none of this means anything to me. All I came here for was Oliver.

After cursing myself for leaving my phone at home and not remembering the route back, I stumble upon a street that is at least somewhat familiar. I can't tell you what it's called or what you'll find on it but I know that it does eventually take you to the library.

I sneak around to the back and let myself in feeling slightly mischievous considering this is highly illegal, then walk down the hall and back upstairs. I sit on the couch and eat my meal all alone, in the dark, with absolutely nothing to keep me entertained. A part of me wishes there was a TV or radio so I could listen to the news to see if there's any clues as to where Oliver could be, even though a call to help for a missing person wouldn't put me at ease. But there's not.

I can't even focus on how delicious my chicken burger is since the interaction with Ace at the Red Grill keeps invading my privacy. I wish he wasn't human scum and actually considered Oliver or tried to learn something about Oliver since he knows jack shit about anyone. All he really seemed to care about was himself really. It was weird. Even if he was being so selfish, he still put in effort to try and get to know me. To flirt with me even. Something tells me he's going to cause trouble at school.

After my meal, I grab my toiletries and towel and head downstairs to the bathrooms. The back rooms to the library are strange. All renovated cheaply to somewhat resemble a house. The downstairs room that's used as both an office and to stack and organise books looks like it was once a lounge and dining room. I don't know how I couldn't have picked that this place once was a house. I mean even furniture in the building looks like it was once used for day-to-day life before it was moved to be a sitting couch or a reading table. Also half of the shop is hidden behind the counter, which is an absurd amount of space for normal library things. The staff bathroom has been renovated too, the regular commercial stalls and sinks being nothing but screw marks on the floor.

When I'm back upstairs, I replace the towel around my waist for some simple pyjama's and settle into the bed. The sheets are soft, and it feels like I could sink into the mattress and through the floor. Finally, my successfully unsuccessful day is over. But as soon as I put today's failure behind me, I remember I need to plan for tomorrow. I don't even think there will be any clues there, and if there are, I wouldn't be able to find anything in such an unfamiliar place.

I let out a frustrated huff and rolled over to look out through the window. The sky hasn't been as colourful lately. Nothing has, or maybe I just haven't been able to appreciate it. I'm not sure I'll be able to do this again. My eyes start to sting as Oliver's name drifts across my mind. I wonder if he's thinking about me too. Unless it hurts him like it hurts me.