Autumn by Sierra Dean Page B

stupid coyote, but the truth of the matter was it was Cooper. He made her dizzy and lightheaded and so nervous she sometimes wanted to throw up. But at the same time she’d never felt so at ease around another person in her life.
    He was making her crazy, and she liked it.
    But she couldn’t figure him out. The way he willingly backed away from her, how he seemed to accept his fate being loathed by the whole town. And what was up with that anyway? As far as Lou could tell he was a good guy, he respected his mother, and nothing she’d seen of him so far had given her any indication of why people disliked him so vehemently.
    She picked up her pace to match the tempo of the song, wanting to be out from the cover of the woods. Another thing bugging her was the way Cooper had looked at the coyote on the road. And she hadn’t misheard when he’d said him in regards to the animal, as if he knew the thing personally.
    Maybe the coyotes in Poisonfoot were really friendly, but it was still bizarre for someone to use a human pronoun to describe one. That sort of familiarity was reserved for pets that functioned as an extension of the family.
    The trees gave way to bright, wide-open sky, and Lou’s pulse slowed along with her speed. Something about being in the woods made her uneasy with the sensation she was constantly being watched.
    The highway rounded a bend, and a sidewalk appeared out of nowhere. One step there was nothing but gravel shoulder, the next there was a paved sidewalk. Lou continued her journey back to Second Street, where she’d noticed a small library on Cooper’s tour of the town. She would have missed it entirely if she’d glanced away, the building was so tiny, but she’d spotted it nestled between the elementary school and the outdoor basketball court.
    If no one was willing to tell her what was going on with Cooper Reynolds, she was going to have to find out herself. Granny Elle still lived in a world that predated the Internet, and Lou figured it was going to take at least another month of coaxing before her aging grandmother agreed to get high speed installed in the old Victorian house. They were far enough out her cell’s data connection was spotty at best, which meant if she wanted to Google anything, she’d have to do it at school or somewhere else with a free Internet connection.
    The library seemed like a safer bet than the high school. The last thing she needed was someone snooping over her shoulder while she searched Cooper’s name. She didn’t know why she cared so much if people knew what she was doing, but given how crazy people were about the Reynoldses, she thought it was best she kept her searching on the DL.
    She’d really hoped Cooper might give her some insight into himself during their drive that afternoon, but the most Lou had gotten was more questions.
    It took her almost half an hour to walk from Granny Elle’s house back to the library, and in that time she’d listened to everything from eighties pop to early aughts boy bands. Priss had no attention span whatsoever, but the tempo of the songs had kept Lou moving at a good clip.
    She arrived at the library with the sun still hanging low over the horizon, a big orange ball on the pinkish backdrop of the sky. The dim lights of the building gave her pause, and she realized she should have looked up the hours before walking all this way. She didn’t even know if the place would be open on a Saturday, let alone so late. But when she got to the door, a small, hand-drawn sign listing the hours said it was open until nine, giving her several hours before she needed to worry.
    Lou sent her mother a quick text, telling her where she was and that she’d be home later. Her mom was a born worrier, but it was hard for a parent to fret too much about their child spending time with a bunch of old books.
    A reply asked, Do you have your kit?
    Lou rolled her eyes at the message. She’d been diabetic since she was ten. In those six years