Toni slid her fingers over the smooth bindings of the books as she passed them. The library was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire. Even in early March the weather could be quite cold, so the fire was usually lit. The section of books she found herself in was where she was usually found; in the teen fiction. Toni was a sucker for those gooey, lovey-dovey teenage romances, and so she ate them up like Death By Chocolate cake. Reading was one of her few hobbies these days, but she needed something to occupy her time at the school other than the usual prugeing that went on from the food the school staff forced her to eat.
It was strange, but a book caught her eye. It had a simple title. It was a white book. But she picked up Wasted, curious. Upon reading the cover of the book, she dropped it like a hot coal. Who wrote such a book? Why? Her curiosity got the best of her, as much as it pained her to be this curious. She bent over and picked up the book, slowly, carefully, as if it was a pan that was still too hot. She flipped open the inside cover to read on.
The book was unexpected, but the details and idea of the book were so ironic. It detailed a memior of a woman's life as she struggled through sex, anorexia, and bulimia, as well as drug addictions. While Toni wasn't a huge sex addict or shooting heroine, she couldn't help but be curious. What did this woman have to say that might be similar to what she felt? Glancing up and down the isle, Toni slid the book into her over-sized sweatshirt and then headed down the hall, cradling the place where the book was like she was nursing an injury. Her heart pounded. Would she actually disappear to someplace in the library and read it? She looked so obvious, even though she thought she was being inconspicuous. But that was part of what she wanted; to be caught. At the same time, though, it was also the exact thing she did not want; to be caught sneaking out a book on what she was afraid of most.