Giovanni shakes himself free from Armin’s barely-there grip while I let Armin choose when he wants to let me go. He does so rather quickly and stands off in the space that divides us as if he doesn’t want Giovanni to feel like we’re ganging up on him. 

“What is your problem?” I strike first. 

  “My problem? I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem?” Giovanni hisses. 

Armin takes a step forward and grabs his own upper arm, holds onto his sweater like he just needs to cling to something right now. 

“Of all the things to change around here, you choose 104? Leave my shit alone.” My voice is getting louder and that just strikes a match in Giovanni.  

“It’s not yours,” he snarls. “It’s the school’s, and it’s been sitting there for years doing nothing but collecting dust and wasting space. The library is too crowded, so it would only make sense to use it. It’s not a discussion. Get over it and do something with your time that matters. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to cling to trash.” 

“Trash? It’s not trash! Why not try to get photography courses back for us then? Restart the photography club? You just want to piss me off!” I walk in a small circle and wave my arms. “What even made you think of 104? It’s a dead door.” 

“You did,” Giovanni says, thin lips falling into another one of those slimy grins. “I see you when I’m in the library. You know how there’s all that glass facing the hallway? Smart people might call them windows. Sometimes I see you, and I just watch you. I always wondered what was over there to make you keep coming back. So, I checked it out.” 

I freeze in place, the shock slowly but surely spreading across my face. I wasn’t sneaky enough. I wasn’t cautious enough. This is all my fault. But also…

“You’re a fucking creep.” I grimace. 

“Shut up,” Giovanni scolds. “Thanks for busting the lock. Made it easy for me to get pictures of it all for my proposal. The perfect addition to my argument. A classroom with no lock? A disaster waiting to happen.” 

“Ugh, you sound like the villain from a cartoon.” 

Armin snorts at me, and Giovanni cuts his eyes at him. 

“Either way,” he says and turns to walk away, “it’s a done deal. They’re closing it off tomorrow. Have a nice life, clown.” 

Tomorrow? They’re taking it all down tomorrow? Did nobody think to talk to the students? To take a vote? To ask for any objections? It’s just all said and done because the student council, the same student council with their own room, thinks it’s a waste of space?

Giovanni speeds away as if he won this battle, and Armin and I watch in silence until he’s out of our viewpoint. 

“I guess that’s it,” Armin says, and even he looks a little hurt. 

“No, it’s not. He said they’re blocking it off tomorrow, not that they’re demoing it. I still have time. I can fix this.” 

“In a day?” Armin’s skepticism makes him frown. 

“We can’t trust that man. What if he’s lying? It could be weeks from now that they even think about blocking it off, you know?”