Only Dewie Can Save You Now - (Tulane University, New Orleans)

"Got a mouth on you, don't you?" the imposing man accused the student. Who did she think she was? She had no idea what she was sticking her nose into. He knew her kind at a glance, perpetually bored, instigating, (threatening to mace him, really?) flush with daddy's money, (was that the latest iPhone?) dressed to make a statement--to prove she was relevant. She probably wrote emotionally frustrated poetry and read it emphatically at open-mic-night, convinced of her genius.

He returned the librarian's gaze, "That's right. Jaiden checked out these books," he mashed a single finger onto her desk at the receipts. "It says here he returned them one day before he left Tulane."

He could feel the blood pounding in his cheeks. All eyes were on him, students parked in their seats swiveled to watch the altercation. To her credit, the librarian had been the least affected. He heaved a sigh, briefly meeting the faces of onlookers. He'd gotten ahead of himself, he could see that. Allowed the torrent of shame for not following Jaiden immediately flow unabashed. He pursed his lips, cracked his neck.

"I'm sorry for shouting," he said, not meeting the librarian's eyes yet, "I'm trying to find my son, and I would really appreciate your help. I'm... worried about him." He said the words carefully; the last were delivered while looking at the sidelined punk-wannabe.

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