Will You Be My Friend? by P.J. Night

Author:P.J. Night
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Spotlight

CHAPTER 8

The first thing that struck Beth about the records room was the fact that the door had been unlocked. It worked out great for her, but why was it that anyone could just walk right in? The room had to contain detailed personal information about every student who had ever gone to Glenside. You’d think they would want to keep that info from falling into unauthorized hands.

Like hers.

The second thing that struck her about the room was how dark and crowded it was. It had the appearance of someone’s closet in one of those TV shows about hoarders. The only light in the room was a thin band of sunlight that sliced through an otherwise filthy window and a strip of fluorescent light that crept in under the door.

Old oak file cabinets lined every wall, with another row of file cabinets running down the center of the narrow room. Beth wondered if there was enough space to fully open any of the drawers.

The room had a musty smell that reminded Beth of the used bookstore her mother enjoyed going to. Piles of green hanging folders and manila files were stacked on top of each cabinet. Cobwebs hung between the sides of the cabinets and the walls. A thick layer of dust seemed to cover everything as if it had been intentionally sprayed on like a coat of paint.

What a mess! Beth thought. How can anyone find anything here? How will I find anything here?

She glanced around, wondering where to begin. As with each step in this mission, she had no plan in place for what she would do when she reached it.

Somehow, through sheer luck it seemed, she had so far made it to the school, discovered a way in, slipped past the people working there, and found the door to the room she needed unlocked.

But now what? Where to start?

“Okay, first I need to find a light,” Beth muttered softly to herself.

Searching for a light switch on the walls would be a waste of time, since she’d first have to search for the walls. Every available inch of wall space was covered by a cabinet or a shelf of some kind.

Miraculously Beth soon spotted a lamp. It was a classic table lamp with a brass base, a metal pull chain, and a green glass shade. She’d seen lamps like this in old movies. She pictured a grizzled old clerk sitting at a beat-up oak desk, counting coins by the dim glow of his green-shaded lamp.

Beth yanked the lamp’s chain and the bulb sprang to life, casting a rectangular pool of light onto the low shelf on which it sat.

I guess I found my desk, she thought.

Beth tilted the lamp so that its light shone on the handwritten labels on the front of each file cabinet drawer. They were organized by months and years, though “organized” might be too strong a word to describe what she was looking at.

She scanned the various dates.

Let’s see, Alice is in eighth grade now, and she said that Lizzie was in her grade.

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