You think being a teacher and supposedly intelligent that Mr. Asquith would have realised how clichéd it was to send a geek to work experience in a library.

I don’t mind that much, really, I spend most of my time hiding out in the library at school but it’s slightly depressing that that’s what everyone imagines I’ll do with my life, when I told my mother she nodded and said it suited me.

I don’t want it to suit me, I want people to hear that I’m working in a library and snort with laughter that popular, handsome and eccentric Michael Quinn is going to be stuck stacking books for two weeks, and while I’m on that subject I’d like some people who’d stick around long enough to hear me say I was doing work experience at all.

I’d also like to be popular and handsome but I’ve been living without those two since I was born so I think I can survive with out them a little longer.

But seriously this just sucks.

**

Michael didn’t even know why his stomach was churning and his palms sweaty, he leant his forehead against the bus window not wanting to look around at the other people who’d been thrown out of bed at this ungodly hour and had stood in the freezing cold waiting for the 45 to Winchester.

He knew he had nothing to be nervous of but that didn’t stop him wanting to stay huddled up in the corner of his seat and go right the way round the bus rote till he was home again.

But then the bus was pulling to a stop and like some lemming already knowing its fate but unable to stop Michael stood up and got off the bus. They’re where very few people about as it was still to early for the morning rush hour traffic so Michael ambled his way to the library think he wouldn’t want to turn up early and seem to keen.

The Library was a modern building; nothing really distinguished it from the line of offices and shops apart from the big sign that said library, Michael gently pushed the door and was surprised when it opened, he took a few apprehensive steps inside.

A woman was at the desk that took up most of the first room where there were, he noted with surprise, very few books only what could be placed upon two shelves.

The woman was youngish with cropped blond hair and dressed in a light blue power suit much like the ones that lived in his mother’s closet and came out when she had a board meeting to go to.

The lady looked up fixing him with cool periwinkle blue eyes and informed him in a crisp tone “You are late; you are Michael Quinn aren’t you?”

“Yes”

“I hope you’ll come on time tomorrow”

Michael felt the need to lie to her, at least to stop her judgmental gaze for a moment or too “The bus was late” he mumbled.

She relaxed, only slightly and nodded as if finding that expectable.

“Well it can’t be helped, my name is Anna Harris” she walked from behind the desk and motioned for him to fallow her, which he did falling into step until they had passed through the first room and on through the stacks of books till they came to a door marked staff which she opened and left open for him to come through after her.

The room was a tiny office with a few chairs placed about and a kettle in the corner with coffee cups and jars of kenco around.

And two people, one a woman much older than the blue ice queen he’d meet firstly, her grey hair was in a bun and she wore a baggy pearl coloured cardigan over a long brown skirt. She smiled at him, screwing up her coal black eyes and making the lines on her face even more pronounced.

“This is Mrs. Kieran”

“Eva” The woman said with another smile.

And the other almost took Michael’s breath away, a young man with floppy black hair that hung in his vivid green eyes and gave him the expression of some tortured soul was grinning at him.

“And Eric Milbank”