Brenna had always liked libraries. The endless rows of books. The peace and isolation. The rooms full of people quietly dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. Brenna had decided to apply to Green Valley College for a lot of reasons, but the first time she saw Knight Library was when she fell in love with it.
Knight Library was almost directly at the center of Green Valley's campus, offset ever-so-slightly from the central quad ringed with buildings old and new alike. It was built into a hill, with four stories above ground and the bottom floor, a partial basement, looking out onto the nearby Loon River. Its brick gothic edifice looked like it came straight out of the college catalog, with soaring spires and tall, narrow windows to let in light.
Almost immediately, Brenna had started working there, reshelving books and getting to know every corner of the old building. After two years, she had finally started working at the front desk, checking books out for students and helping people navigate the twisting halls and tight stacks. She loved it as much as she did when she first saw the building. That was why she didn't mind working on a Friday night, even if it was homecoming weekend and parties had been popping off all over campus since that afternoon.
Brenna stretched her arms and yawned, looking out at the nearly empty library. Her mousy brown hair hung well past her neck and, like the rest of her, was fine and unadorned, save for a pair of silver stud earrings. The late September chill was stronger at night, so she had also wrapped herself in a thick woolen sweater, jet black jeans, and well-worn leather boots, bumping her height up an inch or two.
Her gaze dropped back down to her notes. Contemporary American Literature wasn't exactly what she had come to Green Valley to study, but it was a requirement for all English majors. With a quiet sigh, she flipped her copy of Infinite Jest back to where she had bookmarked, trying for the third time to get through a particularly meandering chapter.
For a while, there was nothing but the quiet sounds that made up any library. A page turning. The clacking on laptop keyboards. An occasional cough. The gentle scuffing of feet on carpet and the squeak of a wheel in need of grease.
At the last sound, Brenna looked up to see Alice, the only other student working tonight, pushing a cart stacked full of books towards her. She must have seen the look on Brenna's face, because she stopped the cart to giggle. "Still trying to get through David Foster Wallace?"
Brenna grimaced. "I'm trying to figure out the appeal of postmodernism."
"Sorry it's not another book by an old dead white dude." Alice leaned against the cart. She was suspiciously well-dressed for a shift in the library, with a short, low-cut dress and meticulously done makeup. Her blonde hair had been subtly curled.
Sighing, Brenna closed the book. "David Foster Wallace is also dead, and white, and a man. What's your point?"
She shrugged. "I'm just saying you could stand to broaden your horizons a little. That's what college is supposed to be for, right?"
"I'm not going to the Zeta party, Alice."
With an exaggerated pout, Alice slumped back over the cart, jostlings its precious cargo. "Come ON, Brenna. It's homecoming! Live a little!"
Her only response was a huff of air through the nose as she spun in her chair. "I'm going to go home and try to get through this book, which will put me right to sleep, I'm sure." Brenna nodded towards the cart. "Shelving?"
"Yeah. It's a bunch of stuff from the Dungeon." The lowest story of Knight Library had been called the Dungeon for decades, by students and library staff alike. It was more cramped than the rest of the library, and darker, and less used. It had a few dark cubbies and private study rooms, though, so it got a lot more crowded around midterms and finals.
Brenna stood and put a hand on the cart, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Alice. It was about an hour until closing time. "I can do it if you want to take off early. You don't want to keep those frat boys waiting." She looked back at Alice with a wink.
Alice's face split into a grin as she grabbed Brenna in a quick hug. "Oh my God, you're the best, Brenna. Thank you! I'll cover your shift on Sunday." Before Brenna could protest, she held up a hand. "I insist. You can use the day to finish that book!"
She rolled her eyes. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Brenna waved her hand at Alice in a shooing motion. "Go."
She gave her another quick smile then grabbed her purse, darting out of the library as quickly as she could. As the heavy doors swung shut behind her, Brenna put a sign on the front desk reading "Out for Shelving" and started pushing the heavy cart towards the library's sole elevator. It had just enough room for her and the cart. She pressed the button for the basement and the elevator lurched to life, slowly descending into the Dungeon.
The elevator dinged and the doors swung open as Brenna pushed the creaking cart out. Alice had prepped the cart well, so it was a fairly simple matter of going through each row of bookshelves and putting the next book in its place, over and over again. It was repetitive, mindless work, but Brenna didn't mind. Not after a long week of work and class.
She didn't mind missing the party Alice was going to either, or any of the other ones. Brenna had always thought college was about learning, not cavorting and carousing. She enjoyed the occasional glass of wine in her off-campus apartment with a book, but the ragers, and the noisy crowds they attracted, weren't for her.
The fluorescent lights were harsh in the Dungeon, but strangely muted, like there was a pervasive darkness that never really went away. The sun had already set, so there was barely any light coming through the few windows looking out over the river.
There were a few students still studying here, for one reason or another, but none of them spoke to her. There was almost an unwritten code in the Dungeon against talking. It was the sort of space where really serious studying happened, or term papers, or anything else that required that extra level of brain power and silence.
Brenna placed the last book on the last shelf with a half hour to spare. She sighed at the sight of the empty cart and started pushing it back towards the elevator, but slowly. It had been a long week and she was just about tapped out, mentally and physically. She felt an uncomfortable pressure in her bladder and realized that she hadn't used the bathroom for her entire shift.
Rather than returning to the front desk, with another slog through a book she was slowly growing to hate, she decided to make a quick detour to the bathroom. Putting the cart to rest by the elevator, Brenna walked around the corner only to be met with a hastily scrawled "Out of Order" sign on the door to the women's bathroom. She sighed and was about to turn around, but paused. There couldn't have been more than five people down here tonight. What were the odds of someone walking in on her in the men's room, really?
The pressure in her bladder grew tighter, and Brenna made her decision. Glancing from side to side, she pushed open the door to the men's room quietly. The tile was dated and, like the rest of the dungeon, perpetually grimy. The mirrors were clean enough, and Brenna got a glimpse of her reflection as she passed the row of urinals on her way to one of the two stalls tucked in a corner. She looked a little haggard, but that wasn't too unusual late on a Friday night.
