Xie has been to the public library only once, with FKK; they had gone to find books about animal liberation and found none. When Leni complained to the librarian he had told them, We are a general interest facility. Which made Jo laugh out loud as she smacked a stack of romance novels. You mean we should be reading this shit instead? At which point they had been asked to leave. I’m supposed to be here for a, um, tutor, Xie says, approaching the front desk. Greg, the librarian, says, Yes, I am aware. Cool gaze behind his gray glasses. Xie glances around the room; shallow rows of dark metal shelving, half full, surround a bank of tables with ancient computers, chess games, magazines. A man sits near the water fountain, taking notes from a dictionary. Everything smells like dirty laundry and old glue. In the children’s area a woman in a blue jacket waves, a huge yellow sun cut from construction paper stuck to the window behind her head. Xie shifts the strap of his bag over his chest. He could leave. Doesn’t. Tugs his jeans up, shuffles to the table. The woman stands, reaching for his hand. Strong grip. Hi, Xie? I’m Karen. Mid-twenties, green eyes, thin strawberry blond hair to her shoulders. Backpack on the desk like a student’s, full of folders. He sits, knee jumping beneath the table; he has to think hard to stop it, then it stops. How are you? Karen asks. Fine, he says, looking at the smiley face someone scratched into the tabletop. Good, she says. It’s nice to meet you. He glances up, then back down. Karen takes a deep breath. So, we’ll be meeting three times a week for three hours to go over the assignments. Sliding him a schedule, pointing with a pen. I have your course books here; we’ll discuss the readings and whatever homework the school assigns, which you’ll turn in to MacAdams on Fridays. At the end of each month I submit a report about what we’ve covered here and that’s pretty much it. The bathroom’s just that way, you can use it whenever you need. And we have a fifteen-minute break around noon. Sound okay? Xie clears his throat. Mm-hm. It looks like you had a bit of a rough time with math last term, she says, consulting one of her folders, so why don’t we start with that. She opens a textbook, tucks her hair behind her ears. I was looking at some of your past work and it seems like this is where you get stuck; can you tell me what you’re thinking when you get to this point? Watching him repeat the problem. There, she says, gently, you left out a step. The librarian stares; Greg knows, everyone knows, does Karen? She must. That I tried to help them but they died anyway. There you go, she says, nodding at the end of the hour, Xie’s pencil worn to the wood. You’ve got it.