narrowed.
Little wonder. She was probably wondering what Governor Cabot‘s son was doing talking to me.
Like Malcolm, Clarissa was part of the school‘s über elite.
And Malcolm was taking advantage of my distraction. He ruffled my hair. ―See you soon, babe.‖ Then he turned on his heel and walked off.
Ignoring Clarissa, and completely forgetting about both the society books and Malcolm‘s favorite literary critics, I snatched up WAP (with both hands, of course, since the stupid thing weighs two hundred pounds) and dashed after him.
By the time I got into the main hall of the library, he was nowhere to be seen. Stacks? Exit?
Ugh! I walked as quickly as possible to the front doors, all the while scanning down each bay for any sight of his green shirt or blond hair. No luck.
At the door, I went through the usual
No-This-Is-My-Copy-of- War-and-Peace -That‘s-Why-It-Doesn‘t-Have-a-Library-Bar-Code-on-I t rigmarole, then sprinted down the front steps onto the Cross Campus Green. No sign of him there, either.
What, did Rose & Grave members have a secret entrance to the library, too?
Fine, I‘d beard the lion in his den. ―CC‖ stood for Calvin College in Eli shorthand, and green was the college color. I‘d follow him right back to his dorm room. I tried to look dignified as I power-walked across the Green and back onto High Street, but the weight of WAP kept throwing off my stride.
T HOUGHTS T HAT W ENT T HROUGH
M Y H EAD O N T HE W AY
1) Malcolm Cabot knew I‘d been bullshitting at my interview but tapped me anyway.
2) Must be convenient for Malcolm that Calvin College and the Rose & Grave tomb are right next door to each other.
3) I wonder if the Diggers have the Russian Novel final on file.
I swiped my keycard at the entrance to Calvin College, and opened the heavy gate. A few steps later and I was in their small, sunny courtyard, empty but for one guy in a green polo shirt booking it toward one of the far entryways.
―Malcolm!‖ I shouted, and he stopped in his tracks. I ran to meet him. ―You‘re a Digger,‖ I said when I arrived, panting slightly.
He grabbed my arm and maneuvered me to one of the stone benches positioned farther away from the windows. ―And you,‖ he hissed in my ear in a much lower tone than I‘d been using,
―are not exactly discreet.‖
I rolled my eyes as we sat. ―How discreet is that pin of yours?‖
He snorted. ―It took you about ninety seconds to notice it, and I practically had to jab you in the eye with the pointy end.‖
―Thanks for restraining yourself.‖
―Think nothing of it.‖
I crossed my arms over my chest. ―Now I want an explanation.‖
He narrowed his eyes. ―For what?‖
―For what!‖ I looked around the courtyard. Still empty. But I lowered my voice anyway. ―For last night, of course.‖
―You seemed to understand the process at the time.‖
―Yeah, but then you just left me there. In the bathroom.‖
―Of course. We had to get to eleven other people, you know, Amy. We were busy.‖
I digested that point while he glanced around. ―Look, this isn‘t the time to talk. Everything you need to know is in the—‖ He stopped and looked down at my hands, empty but for WAP.
―Where are the books I gave you?‖
―In the library, I suppose.‖
―WHAT!‖ Now it was Malcolm‘s turn to get loud. He jumped up from the bench and threw his hands in the air. ―You just left them there?‖
I blinked at him. ―They were library books. And I already have a copy of Poetics back in my suite.‖
―There was—urgh!‖ He spiked his hands in his hair. ―There was something in the Aristotle. For you. From us.‖
―Oh.‖
“Oh?” He paced back and forth in front of me. ―Oh?!? That‘s all you have to say?‖
―What am I supposed to say? Did you honestly think that after that little act of yours I‘d be more interested in hunting you down or settling back for a little bit of Dead White
Little wonder. She was probably wondering what Governor Cabot‘s son was doing talking to me.
Like Malcolm, Clarissa was part of the school‘s über elite.
And Malcolm was taking advantage of my distraction. He ruffled my hair. ―See you soon, babe.‖ Then he turned on his heel and walked off.
Ignoring Clarissa, and completely forgetting about both the society books and Malcolm‘s favorite literary critics, I snatched up WAP (with both hands, of course, since the stupid thing weighs two hundred pounds) and dashed after him.
By the time I got into the main hall of the library, he was nowhere to be seen. Stacks? Exit?
Ugh! I walked as quickly as possible to the front doors, all the while scanning down each bay for any sight of his green shirt or blond hair. No luck.
At the door, I went through the usual
No-This-Is-My-Copy-of- War-and-Peace -That‘s-Why-It-Doesn‘t-Have-a-Library-Bar-Code-on-I t rigmarole, then sprinted down the front steps onto the Cross Campus Green. No sign of him there, either.
What, did Rose & Grave members have a secret entrance to the library, too?
Fine, I‘d beard the lion in his den. ―CC‖ stood for Calvin College in Eli shorthand, and green was the college color. I‘d follow him right back to his dorm room. I tried to look dignified as I power-walked across the Green and back onto High Street, but the weight of WAP kept throwing off my stride.
T HOUGHTS T HAT W ENT T HROUGH
M Y H EAD O N T HE W AY
1) Malcolm Cabot knew I‘d been bullshitting at my interview but tapped me anyway.
2) Must be convenient for Malcolm that Calvin College and the Rose & Grave tomb are right next door to each other.
3) I wonder if the Diggers have the Russian Novel final on file.
I swiped my keycard at the entrance to Calvin College, and opened the heavy gate. A few steps later and I was in their small, sunny courtyard, empty but for one guy in a green polo shirt booking it toward one of the far entryways.
―Malcolm!‖ I shouted, and he stopped in his tracks. I ran to meet him. ―You‘re a Digger,‖ I said when I arrived, panting slightly.
He grabbed my arm and maneuvered me to one of the stone benches positioned farther away from the windows. ―And you,‖ he hissed in my ear in a much lower tone than I‘d been using,
―are not exactly discreet.‖
I rolled my eyes as we sat. ―How discreet is that pin of yours?‖
He snorted. ―It took you about ninety seconds to notice it, and I practically had to jab you in the eye with the pointy end.‖
―Thanks for restraining yourself.‖
―Think nothing of it.‖
I crossed my arms over my chest. ―Now I want an explanation.‖
He narrowed his eyes. ―For what?‖
―For what!‖ I looked around the courtyard. Still empty. But I lowered my voice anyway. ―For last night, of course.‖
―You seemed to understand the process at the time.‖
―Yeah, but then you just left me there. In the bathroom.‖
―Of course. We had to get to eleven other people, you know, Amy. We were busy.‖
I digested that point while he glanced around. ―Look, this isn‘t the time to talk. Everything you need to know is in the—‖ He stopped and looked down at my hands, empty but for WAP.
―Where are the books I gave you?‖
―In the library, I suppose.‖
―WHAT!‖ Now it was Malcolm‘s turn to get loud. He jumped up from the bench and threw his hands in the air. ―You just left them there?‖
I blinked at him. ―They were library books. And I already have a copy of Poetics back in my suite.‖
―There was—urgh!‖ He spiked his hands in his hair. ―There was something in the Aristotle. For you. From us.‖
―Oh.‖
“Oh?” He paced back and forth in front of me. ―Oh?!? That‘s all you have to say?‖
―What am I supposed to say? Did you honestly think that after that little act of yours I‘d be more interested in hunting you down or settling back for a little bit of Dead White
Similar Books
