<hr/><hr/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">"The Dewie Decimal Dilemma"</span></strong></span> </div><hr/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://cdni.condenast.co.uk/1280x1920/k_n/nicholas-hoult-vogue-june-2015-4-scott-trindle_b.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>NAME: </strong> Elijah Montero<br/><strong>AGE:</strong> 21<br/><strong>LOCATION &amp; TIME:</strong> Second Floor, Raina Library| 9/9/16 8:05 PM<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Elijah Montero<em><strong>CLOSED</strong></em></span></span><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">He walked through the door to the library, his mind firmly entrenched in the problem he’d be having with the combustion levels of the fuel he’d been working on. It was aggravating in the extreme. Tonie reached up and curled the fingers of one hand around the back of his neck, giving the tightened muscles there a tight squeeze before dropping his hand again.<br/><br/>He’d spent numerous hours in the lab – after he finally forced himself to head back to Gottwald forty eight hours after “the encounter” – and still nothing. His lack of progress was driving him almost as insane as the loss of the forty eight hours of work he'd allowed before rational thought kicked back in and he talked himself into going back. The missing section of his formula had even started to interfere with his sleep schedule which was not acceptable. And this last time he'd been in the lab, he’d almost singed his eye brows off. Not to mention the distinct possibility that he'd narrowly escaped setting his clothes and hair on fire. That was when Tonie had grudgingly admitted defeat and headed back to the library in the hopes that his missing books had been returned.<br/><br/>That would be what someone would do if they had books that didn't belong to them and hadn't returned them to the hands of the original owner right? Tonie had been unsure in those first few days whether he'd wanted Elijah to find him or not. But the loss of those books was starting to out weigh his embarrassment and confusion. And since Elijah Montero <em>hadn't</em> found him to return the books, perhaps he'd dropped them back at the library and they'd been re-shelved. Sure, if this was the case he might have to do a little fast talking about why <em>he</em> hadn’t returned them but whatever. He needed those books. Tonie only hoped that Eli – just thinking the other’s guys name brought a tingling sensation to Tonie’s lips he had to draw in a deep breath to power past – had thought to return them.<br/><br/>It was Tonie’s fervent hope to put off speaking the students doing work study behind the desk – the ignoramuses could never figure out what he was looking for when he asked – so he headed straight for the section of the library where he knew the books lived. It was tucked back in the stacks in the dusty far reaches of the cavernous library. This was one of the things that made his sojourn back at least a little less miserable. The far reaches of the library were usually deserted and he could find all sorts of information to feed his mind.<br/><br/>Cutting through the tables set out prominently in the middle of the space and past the cozy little seating areas that were supposed to entice the students to spend time studying, Tonie instead made a b-line for the stacks. The back pack slung over his shoulder contained everything he’d need to spend several hours tucked in one of the little seldomly used cubicles in the back: water, his tablet, paper and pens (in case he was feeling old school), a couple of granola bars and a battery operated clip light he'd found useful. He was all set.<br/><br/>While it might be dark and dusty, Tonie liked the anonymity and peace the space offered him. His backpack shifted and he hitched his step to seat the arm of the weighty bag slightly higher on his shoulder. The action made the toe of his opposite shoe catch on the leg of a chair he was passing. Tonie stumbled, jostling the chair he reached out to grab to prevent falling and striking the ladder back against the wood study table with a loud <em>clack</em>.<br/><br/>From his peripheral, Tonie noted several people pause to look up at him. <br/><br/><em>The boiling point of Mercury is 674.1°fahrenheit. To convert fahrenheit to Celsius, you divide by 1.8, then subtract 32 or use the equation T<sub>(°C)</sub> = (T<sub>(°F)</sub> - 32) / 1.8. Thus Mercury boils at 356.7°Celsius. If you add 273.15 or use the formula T<sub>(K)</sub> = T<sub>(°C)</sub> + 273.15, you receive the Kelvin temperature equivalent. In this case, 629.85K.</em><br/><br/>These thoughts helped him keep the flush from his cheeks as ducking his head, Tonie hurried toward the back of the library. Or at least he fervently hoped it did. Heaving a figurative sigh of relief, Tonie he disappeared around the first of the shelves comprising the stacks and slipped out of sight.</span></span><br/>