Guy‘s take on literary criticism?‖
―Well, I didn‘t think you‘d just leave them there!‖ He plopped back down on the bench and put his head in his hands. ―I told them we shouldn‘t get creative. I said, ‗What‘s wrong with the Post Office?‘ But did anyone listen to me? No. And now look.‖
I patted him on the shoulder, because it seemed like the only appropriate response, but inside I was already plotting my course back to the reading room.
Malcolm whipped up and caught me by the shoulders. He stared at me intently. ―Listen, you can‘t let anyone else see the letter I put inside those books. It could ruin everything. You have to get back to the library and get them back. Now. Understand?‖
I nodded, a bit taken aback, and put my hands on his chest to push him away. And, naturally, that‘s when the door to the nearest entryway opened and Brandon Weare walked out.
―Hey, Haskel,‖ he said in a voice that was anything but casual. ―What‘s up?‖
Malcolm dropped his hands and stepped back and I tried to think of the least awkward way to respond.
Option
―Whoa, Malcolm, be careful on those uneven flagstones, you don‘t want to trip!‖
One:
Option
―Hey, Brandon. Malcolm here was acting out this scene I missed on The OC last Two:
week.‖
Option
―Hi, Brandon. Malcolm and I can‘t talk right now. We have to go back to the library Three:
before anyone finds the top-secret Rose & Grave correspondence Agent Double-Oh-Cabot here left in a book I had no intention of checking out.‖
But Malcolm took over, going from Bobcat-Goldthwait-freaked-out to James-Dean-cool in a flash. ―Hey, man, how‘s it going?‖ He held out his hand and slapped Brandon five before my friend-with-bennies could figure out what was going on. ―I‘ve been meaning to congratulate you on that last intramural badminton game. Have you thought about being team captain next year? I think Calvin is going to make a real play for the Tibbs Cup.‖
Brandon played badminton? Live and learn. Of course, considering the guy‘s obsession with paper airplanes, the aerodynamically designed shuttle used in badminton fit perfectly.
―Thanks,‖ Brandon said, and stood a little taller. ―I have been thinking about it.‖
Unbelievable. I looked at Malcolm with new appreciation. Brandon was completely distracted.
―Are you doing anything right now?‖ Malcolm was asking him. ―We can go talk to the Calvin Tibbs Coordinator about it.‖
―Well, I wanted to chat with Amy….‖ Brandon cast me a quick glance, but before he could break out his Amy-smile, Malcolm stepped in.
―Oh, she‘s headed off to the library.‖ Malcolm clapped Brandon on the shoulder and made some kind of complicated eyebrow gesture in my direction. ―Let‘s go,‖ he went on, guiding my Brandon away.
I stood there, alone in the Calvin courtyard, and began to question the veracity of Brandon‘s ongoing Hopelessly-Devoted-to-You act. The man had just ditched me for intramural badminton.
On the upside, I was definitely on my way to becoming a member of Rose & Grave. So, boy, did I need to reclaim those books!
I hurried back to the library, crossing my fingers that the shelving assistants hadn‘t made their rounds in the reading room yet.
But my luck didn‘t hold out. I got to the table where I‘d been sitting, and it was completely cleared. No society tomes, no volumes of literary criticism, no missive from Rose & Grave.
Crap. The next freshman who had to read Poetics was sure in for a surprise. And I‘d already screwed up my first objective as a member of a secret society—actually getting initiated.
(Though, seriously, I don‘t think I‘m entirely to blame for this snafu. How was I to know? It‘s not like there‘s a ―So You Wanna Be in a Secret Society‖ brochure.) Okay, Amy, think. They wouldn‘t have had time to reshelve them yet, so they were probably sitting on one of the book carts behind the
―Well, I didn‘t think you‘d just leave them there!‖ He plopped back down on the bench and put his head in his hands. ―I told them we shouldn‘t get creative. I said, ‗What‘s wrong with the Post Office?‘ But did anyone listen to me? No. And now look.‖
I patted him on the shoulder, because it seemed like the only appropriate response, but inside I was already plotting my course back to the reading room.
Malcolm whipped up and caught me by the shoulders. He stared at me intently. ―Listen, you can‘t let anyone else see the letter I put inside those books. It could ruin everything. You have to get back to the library and get them back. Now. Understand?‖
I nodded, a bit taken aback, and put my hands on his chest to push him away. And, naturally, that‘s when the door to the nearest entryway opened and Brandon Weare walked out.
―Hey, Haskel,‖ he said in a voice that was anything but casual. ―What‘s up?‖
Malcolm dropped his hands and stepped back and I tried to think of the least awkward way to respond.
Option
―Whoa, Malcolm, be careful on those uneven flagstones, you don‘t want to trip!‖
One:
Option
―Hey, Brandon. Malcolm here was acting out this scene I missed on The OC last Two:
week.‖
Option
―Hi, Brandon. Malcolm and I can‘t talk right now. We have to go back to the library Three:
before anyone finds the top-secret Rose & Grave correspondence Agent Double-Oh-Cabot here left in a book I had no intention of checking out.‖
But Malcolm took over, going from Bobcat-Goldthwait-freaked-out to James-Dean-cool in a flash. ―Hey, man, how‘s it going?‖ He held out his hand and slapped Brandon five before my friend-with-bennies could figure out what was going on. ―I‘ve been meaning to congratulate you on that last intramural badminton game. Have you thought about being team captain next year? I think Calvin is going to make a real play for the Tibbs Cup.‖
Brandon played badminton? Live and learn. Of course, considering the guy‘s obsession with paper airplanes, the aerodynamically designed shuttle used in badminton fit perfectly.
―Thanks,‖ Brandon said, and stood a little taller. ―I have been thinking about it.‖
Unbelievable. I looked at Malcolm with new appreciation. Brandon was completely distracted.
―Are you doing anything right now?‖ Malcolm was asking him. ―We can go talk to the Calvin Tibbs Coordinator about it.‖
―Well, I wanted to chat with Amy….‖ Brandon cast me a quick glance, but before he could break out his Amy-smile, Malcolm stepped in.
―Oh, she‘s headed off to the library.‖ Malcolm clapped Brandon on the shoulder and made some kind of complicated eyebrow gesture in my direction. ―Let‘s go,‖ he went on, guiding my Brandon away.
I stood there, alone in the Calvin courtyard, and began to question the veracity of Brandon‘s ongoing Hopelessly-Devoted-to-You act. The man had just ditched me for intramural badminton.
On the upside, I was definitely on my way to becoming a member of Rose & Grave. So, boy, did I need to reclaim those books!
I hurried back to the library, crossing my fingers that the shelving assistants hadn‘t made their rounds in the reading room yet.
But my luck didn‘t hold out. I got to the table where I‘d been sitting, and it was completely cleared. No society tomes, no volumes of literary criticism, no missive from Rose & Grave.
Crap. The next freshman who had to read Poetics was sure in for a surprise. And I‘d already screwed up my first objective as a member of a secret society—actually getting initiated.
(Though, seriously, I don‘t think I‘m entirely to blame for this snafu. How was I to know? It‘s not like there‘s a ―So You Wanna Be in a Secret Society‖ brochure.) Okay, Amy, think. They wouldn‘t have had time to reshelve them yet, so they were probably sitting on one of the book carts behind the
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