A flash of anger passed through Kaitlynn's eyes, then left as quickly as it had come. "Why bother doing things myself when I have you to do them for me?"
With that, she skipped down the steps and let the front door of the building slam behind her.
49
THE PLAN
"I trust everyone had a fine summer full of traveling, exploring, and general enlightenment," Mr. Halloran said, pacing the front of Ariana's honors English classroom later that morning. He was an older man with a gray beard and shaggy gray hair, who wore his tiny spectacles all the way down at the end of his nose. His tie was loosened, his houndstooth jacket new, his leather loafers scuffed and worn. He had decorated his classroom with huge glossy photographs of literary places he'd visited--the moors of England from Wuthering Heights, the Marabar caves from A Passage to India, the streets of Dublin from Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. The photos alone were enough to endear him to Ariana. He was a cataloguer. Not to mention a bit of a showoff."And I trust you all had time to read through at least ten of the books on your summer reading lists, as required," he added. This was met with groans from the room. "So, I would like you to choose one
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of those books, turn to the person next to you, and spend the next forty minutes discussing that book with this person, delineating all its merits and flaws. Time starts . . . now."
Ariana was seated near the window. When she turned to face the person next to her, she found a handsome African--American boy with close--cropped hair and a friendly smile. She had spotted him moving into Privilege House the night before, but now that they were mere inches away, she could see that he was one of the more athletic boys on the APH campus. His biceps strained at the fabric of his blazer and his neck was so thick it was barely contained by his collar and tie. On his feet he wore a pair of expensive but mud--spattered running shoes. The mud was fresh, as if he'd just gone for a jog that morning.
"Hi," he said. "I'm Conrad Royce. My friends, unfortunately, call me Connie." He had a deep baritone voice that sent tremors through her chest. It was a sexy voice. The kind of voice that was perfect for poetry readings. The kind that could definitely carry a tune. "You were on Team Gold too, right? You were the cox in the crew race."
"Yeah, that was me. Ana Covington," she replied. "I'm a transfer and I have no idea what was on the summer reading list."
Conrad whipped a sheet of paper out of the binder on his desk. "Here you go."
He'd highlighted all the books he'd read. Ariana did a quick scan and estimated he'd read at least fifty of the hundred books listed. Far more than required. She decided she liked this Conrad Royce.
"Okay. I can discuss some of these. Which one do you want to do?" Ariana asked.
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"I'll take on Hemingway. That guy seriously pisses me off," Conrad said, turning fully in his seat to face her.
Ariana laughed, then covered her mouth with her hand as Mr. Halloran turned a scolding eye on her.
"Why?" she asked
"I just don't understand why everyone thinks he's so great," Conrad said, placing his large palms on his knees. "I mean, I never know where his characters are, I get all turned around by the conversations and have to go back to figure out who's saying what. It's like, give me something. Some description, some emotion, some clarification. Anything. I need some meat in my literature. Paragraphs, even."
"Wow. I've never heard anyone bash Hemingway before," Ariana said.
"Sorry. I suppose you like him, huh? 'Oh, Brett and Jake were just made for each other,'" he joked, putting on a high--pitched voice and clasping his hands under his chin.
Ariana laughed again. "No. Actually, I hated The Sun Also Rises. I don't get why everyone is so in love with Jake. He's too flawed for my taste."
"You don't go for flaws in your heroes?" Conrad asked.
"I wouldn't say that, exactly. Of course they have to have some flaws ... otherwise they have nowhere to go in the story, but that guy? What a loser," Ariana said.
Conrad laughed. "Tell me about it."
"But you also read For Whom the Bell Tolls and A Farewell to Arms"
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Ariana said, consulting his list. "Why keep going back if you hated it so much?"
"I figured I had to be missing something. Besides, just because you don't like something doesn't mean it's not important work, right?" he said. "Reading his stuff helped me understand the postwar world he was writing in, and it got me started on his contemporaries, too. F. Scott Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein were pretty cool."
Ariana grinned. She was loving this. Intelligent discourse with a good--looking guy. Her heart tingled with excitement and she sat back in her chair slightly, filled with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. This was where she was supposed to be. This was what she should have been doing for the last two years instead of listening to Crazy Cathy babble about her imaginary unicorn friend or watching Tracy the guard suck pumpkin seeds between her teeth or sitting through those excruciating sessions with Doctor Meloni. If only he could see her now. If only he knew that she'd gotten exactly what she wished for.
And also, Conrad was hot. If she hadn't already started something up with Palmer, she would have asked him to sit with her at lunch.