"So, I went over to Toronto last weekend for Betsy's wedding."

"Who?"

"My cousin, Betsy. You met her when she came down for Annie's baby shower in January."

"I don't think I was there."

"You were definitely there."

"I don't think I was."

"You definitely were. Remember, I borrowed your coat when Sue Ellen spilled honey on mine? I still have it in my closet, by the way."

"See, but here's the thing: I was visiting my mom back in Kansas in January."

"Oh, yeah."

"So, I couldn't have been at the baby shower."

"Huh. Then who the hell did I borrow that coat from?"

"Beats me. Maybe you stole it and came up with this baby shower honey story to ease your guilty conscience."

"It's not really a story."

"I'll say. There's barely any structure, the dialogue's unconvincing, and the characters seem to lack anything even remotely resembling personality or motivation."

"Very funny. Now, you gonna listen or what?"

"Alright, alright."

"So, I was in Toronto for Betsy's wedding."

"As we've established."

"Natalie, I swear to God—"

"I'm listening. Sheesh. Don't get your panties in a bunch, Samanth—what's with the look? I—oh, right. Don't get your panties in a bunch, Sam."

"Anyway, while I was there, I figured I'd catch a flick at the old Nickelodeon."

"What in God's name are you talking about?"

"A movie at the cinema."

"So just say that."

"I'm trying to—"

"Bringing all that old-timey gibberish in here."

"Can I ju—"

"Did you buy some moon pies, too?"

"Can I just finish my story?"

"Bunch of nonsense."

"Are you done? Good. So, you know the Eaton Center?"

"You know I don't."

"Well, they've got this multiplex there. 21 screens."

"Damn."

"I know, right?"

"Lot of choice."

"Right."

"Still, not really worth going into Toronto for."

"Says the girl from Kansas who routinely returns to Kansas, which, I might remind you, is in Kansas."

"Hey, my mom's in Kansas. She's worth a heck of a lot more than some multiplex."

"21 screens, Nat."

"Hmph."

"Miss Woods?"

Sam shrieked and held the books she was carrying against her chest in a protective embrace. She turned to the source of the voice, a junior named Ellen Bell. Ellen's bewilderment could probably be seen from space. Sam felt her face heat up.

"Yes?" asked Sam, channeling her best simulacrum of a stern librarian from memories of childhood visits to the Detroit Public Library. The effect was spoiled somewhat by Natalie's howls of laughter. Sam turned to her coworker and, in a fiercely whispered voice, suggested that it would perhaps be best if Natalie returned the books Sam held to their homes on the shelves of the library. After she left, Sam's focus returned to the girl. She tried to play the part of the stern librarian again but found herself unable to keep a straight face.

"I need to do a book report for English, but I don't have a book to write it on. I was kind of wondering if maybe you could recommend something?"

"Why not just ask Miss Rogers?"

"I want something written this century."

Sam laughed despite herself and said, "Let's make a deal: you promise you won't tell anyone I laughed at that, and I'll find a book you'll love." Ellen winked conspiratorially at Sam, then mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. "So, what kind of books do you like?"

Ellen shrugged. "I don't really know. I like scary movies; are there any scary books?"

"Well, you might like this one," said Sam. She picked up Stranger with My Face and handed it to the girl. "It just came out."

Ellen chewed her lower lip. "What's it about?

"A girl discovers her long-lost evil twin."

"Radical," said Ellen. "And you're sure I'll love it?"

"Or your money back," said Sam as she wrote down Sam's information.

"This is a library."

"Then I guess I'll just keep the money." Sam stamped the book and handed it to Ellen. "Have this back within two weeks, or next time I'll charge you twice as much."

"This is still a library."

"I don't have to take this from you. Get to class."

"Alright. Thanks a bunch, Miss Woods."

As Sam watched Ellen leave the library, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever see the book again.

###

Sam Woods was many things to many people. Librarian. Educator. Friend. Favorite aunt. Accordion enthusiast. The list was seemingly endless. At that moment, one stood out above the rest: excited. No more card catalogs. She was finally going to be using her computer training. No more card catalogs. The students would gain so much-needed experience operating computers. No more card catalogs! Of course, not everyone shared her enthusiasm.

"We have to replace a system that we know has worked for decades with some metal monstrosity?" Mrs. Rogers, head librarian and Sam's boss, all but shouted.

"I believe the case is a type of organic polymer," said Mr. Connors, his quiet monotone cutting into Sam's soul deeper than usual. Something about the assistant principal was deeply unsettling, and Sam sometimes wondered if the man was, in fact, a primitive ancestor to the androids found in her beloved science fiction books.

"It doesn't matter what the damn—okay." Mrs. Rogers took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly before continuing sotto voce. "We can't introduce computers into the library if none of the librarians know how to use computers."

Mrs. Rogers and Mr. Connors stared at each other as an uncomfortable silence filled the air. Sam was building up the energy to explain that she knew perfectly well how to use a computer, thank you very much, when a small voice broke it.

"I can teach your librarians." The speaker was a girl sitting in the old armchair in the corner. Since when were students allowed into the teachers' lounge? Sam hadn't seen her before but guessed that she was either a short senior or a mature sophomore.

"Excuse me?" asked Mrs. Rogers.

"I can teach your librarians," repeated the girl. Her voice was accented, though Sam couldn't quite place it. English? "I am, after all, a teacher." She giggled to herself as she said the final word, the sound light and bouncy. Wait—

"Teacher?" said Natalie. Sam stole a glance at her friend; it seemed she was just as confused.

The girl (woman?) stood up and curtsied. "Ada Grünberg, Saint-Martin High's new French teacher."

"What happened to Sarah?" Sam asked.

"Mrs. Wright's daughter fell ill, and has taken a leave of absence to care for her," said Mr. Connors. "In the interim, Miss Grünberg will be taking her place."

"Is she okay?"

"Sorry?"

"Is Sarah's daughter okay?"

"You know, I never thought to ask," said Mr. Connors. Jerk.

"In any event, I'm here, and I can teach your librarians how to use the new system," said Ada.

"I know how to use a computer," said Sam.

Ada turned to Sam and gave her the once-over, then smiled and gazed into Sam's eyes. "Groovy. We can teach the others together."

"Hold on, I still haven't accepted this new system," said Mrs. Rogers.

"Adapt or die, ma'am. At this very moment, a veritable army of Soviet librarians could be developing even more advanced tech. Isn't it your duty as an American to ensure your schools aren't out-paced by the Russians?" Ada's dour voice was in stark contrast to the grin she wore.

"Well, that's—what?"

"Exactly." Ada nodded. "And since we're now in agreement about the new system, I think it only right that I learn the specifics of the setup first. Mr. Connors?"

"Hmm?"

"The documentation, Mr. Connors."

"Right. It's in my office."

"Would you kindly lead the way, Mr. Connors?" Together, Saint-Martin High's assistant principal and newest faculty member left the teachers' lounge.

"Sam," said Natalie, "what the hell just happened?"