Kate was the only one in the library. The doors had been locked, the other members of staff had been sent home, but she still felt the need to double-check. She didn't want to be interrupted, and she didn't want to be caught, either.
Her secret hobby: Reading through the return pile, and imagining what sort of person borrowed which book. She always felt a bit guilty, like she was prying into someone's personal life.
There were the usual suspects. Timid types and their self-help books. Shut-ins with dreams of travel. Someone had been ploughing through their computer-literacy section, and she liked to imagine some grandma was desperately trying to keep up with her grandchildren.
She saved the best till last. The romantic novels. The erotic fiction with well worn spines. Kate would place the book on the table, and nine times out of ten, it would fall open onto the hottest sex scene.
Her real guilty pleasure.
It wasn't just the smut, but imagining who was getting off on it. A bored housewife looking for romance. A bookish lesbian fantasising about a coworker. A muscular young man who, despite his looks, felt happiest on his knees.
There was only one piece of smut in the return pile today, and the spine had been repaired several times over. She cackled to herself, knowing full well she'd be in for something utterly filthy.
Kate looked over her shoulder before starting the ritual. Carefully placing the book on the table, letting go, and diving straight into the steamiest smut.
"What the fuck."
The page was covered in handwritten notes. "Unrealistic" read one. "Motivation???" was underlined three times.
Kate flicked through the book to check.
The entire thing was littered with personal notes. Disagreements. All that was missing was a note reading "See me after class!" with an unhappy face for punctuation.
Kate closed the book, and took a deep breath.
She'd have to check who borrowed this book. She'd have to confront them. Worse still, she'd be breaking one of her cardinal rules. It would be rude to find out who had actually borrowed which book.
With a long sigh, she closed the book.
--
She'd been unable to sleep properly. Who would write in a library book? She couldn't imagine what sort of monstrous evil would be capable of such a crime.
Yes, sure, people cracked the spines. People spilled their tea, or worse, used the book as a coaster. There was also that one time when someone had torn pages from a book, but she tried not to think about it. Even so, she'd spent the night worried that there were other vandalised books on the shelves.
The romance section was rather big, and possibly the most popular section of the library. It would take several hours to check.
Kate clocked into work early the next day. With a pair of rubber gloves, just to be on the safe side, she spent several hours flicking through the pages of every novel on the shelf. Thankfully, it seemed the culprit had only made a mess of one book.
Still, Kate was boiling over with anger. Even after taking an early lunch.
There weren't any records of the book being borrowed. It had the library stamp, it was in the catalog, but there wasn't a name listed where one should be. Perhaps it had been taken while the computer was having a power nap. That, or the criminal had stolen the book, perhaps only returning it in a moment of guilt.
Either way, Kate was determined to track down the suspect. Give them a good old librarian stare of disappointment. Extract an apology. Maybe even charge them to replace the book, just to twist the knife.
That was why she spent the afternoon reading the book in question.
That's what she told herself, anyway. That would be her excuse if anyone asked why she was reading "She stepped on my heart.", a steamy anthology of smut.
--
Despite Kate's best efforts to fall into some escapist erotica, the vandal's running commentary kept snapping her out of it.
Kate would be midway through reading some scene, say involving a well endowed university professor and an air-headed student, and then her eyes would drift over to the margin, only to find the word "Clumsy", ruining her fun.
Infuriating.
It took twice as long to read as it should have. It was closing time, and she was barely halfway through the anthology. With a sigh, she put the book away.
It was then that she noticed someone hovering outside her door. One of the assistants, Eric, a man who made up for intelligence with height, had been waiting for her.
"Hey Kate, I mean, Miss, I mean."
"Eric? What's up? How long have you been standing there." She asked. "Also, Kate is fine."
"Miss Kate", He stopped to think. "Err.. A minute or two."
"So, what's up?" Kate repeated. Asking him two questions at once was a bit too much to ask.
"Oh. Yeah! Someone said they'd returned a book by accident!"
Kate was about to ask 'Can't they just check it out again?', but decided against confusing Eric any further.
She decided to focus on the task at hand.
"Do you know which book?"
"Err." Eric blushed. "Erm. Um. She said. Err. Um." He handed her a note. "She wrote it down."
Kate took the note. It read 'She stepped on my heart. An anthology of lesbian love stories.'
She tried not to smile. The vandal had returned.
"I can handle it from here. Is she still waiting?"
Eric mumbled out a "No." but didn't know what to do next.
"Did she say when she'd be back?"
"Oh. Um. Err." Eric started to count on his hands. "One..Two...Friday. She said Friday."
There was an awkward pause as Eric stood by, waiting for his next thought to arrive.
"That will be all, Eric."
"Um. Err. Yes. Ok." He made a quick exit.
Kate tried not to laugh. The poor thing was still bright red. Completely embarrassed.
--
Back in her office, Kate unfolded the note. It looked like the vandal's handwriting, but she wanted to be sure.
Flicking through the book absentmindedly, she found three sheets of paper tucked away in the back. It wasn't handwritten, but there were the same notes and corrections littering the pages.
"Oh?"
In any other situation, Kate would have folded the note back up, and tucked it back in the book. She wasn't one to pry into people's personal life. Usually.
However, the vandal had scrawled their thoughts all over the book. That's why it wouldn't be rude to peek at what was written elsewhere.
That's what Kate told herself, anyway. She glanced at the opening paragraph, before tucking the note back inside the book.
It seemed that the vandal was a budding author.
"Oh. Hehe."
Kate couldn't help but think about getting revenge. Maybe she'd find a big red pen and underline the mistakes. See how the vandal liked it when the flaws in their work were circled and critiqued.
With a sigh, she put those thoughts to one side. There was only half an hour left and she had a lot of work to do. If she rushed, there might be just enough time to get lost in the returns pile, lost in her imagination, and forget about the book defacer for a moment or two.
Her imagination had other plans.
Despite reading lesbian erotica all day, or perhaps because of it, all she could think about was the unknown vandal.
Seeing them grovel, hearing them apologise, making them swear to never commit such a criminal act again.
Seeing them beg for mercy.
--
Kate slept soundly.
She'd taken the anthology home and ploughed through the rest of the book without a care in the world. It was far easier to annoy the vandal's comments this time around, as Kate knew full well that revenge would come.
Well, maybe not revenge. Maybe a fine. Maybe a talking down. Maybe a stern look over the edge of her glasses.
The day rushed past, and Kate found herself without much to do. There wasn't any paperwork to file. The returns pile was empty, and she still had a good half an hour to fill before she could go home.
"Maybe. No."
Kate took a moment to argue with herself. Yes, it would be rude to read someone's story without asking, but then again, it wouldn't be much different from reading the scrawls in the margins.
Carefully checking for witnesses, Kate pulled the book out of her bag, and the crumpled draft from the back.
"Heh."
It wasn't much of a story. The main character was a complete self-insert, she figured. The sex scene was hurried, and rather clumsy, or in other words, accidentally realistic. The vandal had attempted to rewrite the cruel professor & airhead student story, without much success.
Kate resisted the urge to leave a snarky note.
"Isn't as easy as it looks, huh?"
"Miss?"
"Oh. Eric." Kate quickly folded up the story, neatly placing it in the back of the book. "What's up?"
"Oh. Um." Eric saw the cover of the book and began to blush.
"I found the book she was looking for." Kate answered with a smile. "Thought I'd give it a read. See what was so interesting."
It was just so much fun teasing Eric, she couldn't stop herself.
"Err. Um. Yeah. Err." Eric tried his best to avoid making eye contact. "Um. I'm heading home now."
