“What course?”
“Art history. It’s over Gothic architecture.” I roll my eyes. This quiz will be the death of me. Heck, all of Dr. Connolly’s tests are going to kill me.
“Too bad about the cathedral, eh?”
Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris was damaged by fire recently. Thankfully, the Rose Window appears to have been spared. “I know. I want to see it one day.”
“At least the Rose Window survived.”
Wow, he read my mind. “I know.”
“Well, you best get to sleep. Nighty night, Quinn Maxwell,” he says suddenly.
“Night, Cooke.”
When the screen goes blank, I have several weird thoughts rolling around in my head. One, the guy doesn’t really know how to end a phone call. Two, I get the feeling I’m going to hear from him again. And lastly, I know I’m not telling a single soul about this second phone call. Not a soul.
Five minutes later:
Me:Yo, Tayler. Meet me at the Hub tomorrow for lunch. I’ve got a story for you!
What? You don’t expect me to keep my best friend out of the loop, do you? Oh, and the Hub is a building smack-dab in the middle of the ISU campus where you can get a decent cup of coffee and lunch, if you so desire. There are also vending machines along with lots of tables, inside and out on a patio, for people to gather. It’s one of my favorite places on campus.
Tayler:Yep. C U there. Noon?
I knew my girl would still be up. She’s like a bat. Nocturnal.
Me:Noon.
Chapter Five
“So, who is this bitch Kara?” Leave it to Tayler to pinpoint a problem.
Taking a bite of my PB&J on stale white bread, I answer, “A friend of Susanna’s. Apparently she invited her over to vet me.”
“Tovetyou? Why? Patsy knows you. That’s bullshit.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been there long enough to get to know them.” I shrug. “It makes sense they’d want to know whether or not I’m psycho or whatever.”
“No, Kara’s job was to gauge whether or not you were cool enough to hang with them.”
“Well….”
Setting her coffee cup down, Tayler sighs. I know the sound. It’s one of her ‘let me explain life to you’ kind of sighs. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“See the best in people when I guarantee they don’t deserve it.”
“I do not.”
“Yes you do.”
“Name one.” I know what’s coming. I shouldn’t have challenged her. We’ve been friends since elementary school. She’s seen it all.
“Where do I start? I’ll leave middle school and high school out of it and start here”—she points to the ground—“at ISU. Shit, let me just use Bryant.”
I wince. I knew she was going to bring him up.
