“Jared is in his Comparative Lit class,” I said. “He gets out in twenty minutes.”
“So what do we do in the meantime?”
I noticed two security guards standing in a booth. One of the guards stared at us. I realized how out of place Ema must look to him.
“We should probably get out of sight,” I said. “It’s an all-boys school, and, well, you probably stand out.”
I meant her gender, of course, but it was more than that. This campus seemed pretty straitlaced and old-school. Ema looked anything but.
“Excuse me.”
I had spoken a few seconds too late. The words had come from yet another campus security guard. He was a small man with a mustache so thick, it looked like someone had glued a guinea pig under his nose.
“Hi,” I said.
“Are you a student here?” he asked me.
I was going to lie and say yes, but that wouldn’t work. The guard would ask me for my student ID or look up my name or something like that. I was debating how to handle it when Ema enthusiastically stuck out her hand.
“Hi!” she said in this fake golly-gee voice that was nearly the polar opposite of her normal affect. “My name is Emma.”
The guard hesitantly took her hand. “Uh, nice to meet you.”
“And your name?” Ema asked, still holding the handshake.
“Bruce Bohuny.”
“Well, nice to meet you too, Officer Bohuny! Oh, and this is my brother Mickey.”
She gestured toward me. I nodded because I’m fast on the uptake.
“Say hi to Officer Bohuny, Mickey.”
“Uh, hi.”
Officer Bohuny and I shook hands.
Ema gave us both her biggest-wattage smile. Who was this girl? “Officer Bohuny, my brother is visiting the campus as a prospective student, and I thought I’d walk around with him. Is that a problem?”
“Well, see, you need visitor passes,” he said.
“We do?” She frowned at me. “Mickey, did you know that?”
Me: “No. I didn’t know.”
“So you two don’t have visitor passes?” Bohuny asked.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Ema replied-and she looked more than sorry, almost crushed by this indiscretion. “What should we do, Officer Bohuny?”
“The admissions office is that building on the left.” He pointed with both his finger and, it seemed, that bushy mustache. “The entrance is on the other side of the circle. You can get a pass there. I can walk you over there, if you’d like.”
“Please don’t bother,” Ema said, shaking his hand again. “We’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you so much, Officer Bohuny.”
“Sure thing.”
We started toward the admissions office. Officer Bohuny kept watch. Under my breath, I muttered to her, “Who are you?”
She gave a small laugh.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Keep walking.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“I do,” Ema said. “You’re going to have to talk to Jared on your own.”
“How?”
“We will go to the admissions. You tell them your name and that you’re a prospective student interested in seeing the campus. You’ll get a visitor’s pass.”
“What about you?”
She shook her head. “I can’t play the sister card in there. They might ask for ID. It will look too weird. You go on your own. Find Jared. I’ll wait for you two at that deli we walked past.”
Ema didn’t hesitate or look behind her. She headed off campus while I continued to make my way to the admissions office. I had hoped to just get a pass and move on, but that was not about to happen. I had to fill out forms. I had to show my current ID. I had to schedule a campus tour at three o’clock and an interview at four.
“Would it be possible for me to walk around?” I asked when the paperwork was done. “I just want to experience the campus on my own a little.”
The lady behind the desk frowned at me and then said, “Come with me a moment.”
Uh-oh. I followed her down a wood-paneled corridor. Oil portraits of stern men, former headmasters, looked down on me disapprovingly. They seemed to say, “You don’t belong here,” and today, at least, it was hard to argue.
The receptionist stopped by a door and took a long look at me. “You’re tall,” she said.
I wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so I didn’t.
She opened the door and pulled out a blue blazer. “The school has a strict dress code. Didn’t you read that in the literature?”
“I must have missed it,” I said.
“Luckily you’re wearing a collared shirt. Here’s a tie.”
I thanked her. The jacket was a little snug, but it would do. I threw the tie around my neck and began to tie it as we headed back to her desk. She gave me a visitor’s pass and told me to wear it on my lapel. I did.
I checked the time. Jared’s Comparative Lit class would be letting out in two minutes. I grabbed a more detailed campus map from the admissions office and tried not to hurry outside. Jared’s class was in room 111, Feagles Hall. That was four buildings down on the right.
I hurried over, doing an awkward walk-run, and arrived with a few seconds to spare. The bell in the steeple chimed. I could hear the scuff of chairs on wood. The students started to exit. I leaned against the wall near room 111 and waited. Mr. Casual. Mr. Just Minding My Own Business.
Twelve boys exited the classroom. I had seen a picture of Jared Lowell. None of the faces matched. Jared had also been described as my height, but none of the students were over six feet tall. I still waited, still leaning against the wall as though I was holding it up, hoping that maybe he was just a straggler.
A few minutes later the teacher came out. By now the corridor was empty except for Mr. Casual. The teacher turned to me. “May I help you?”
I was going to ask him whether Jared Lowell had been to class, but I already knew the answer. If I asked where Jared was, well, hadn’t I learned my lesson about asking questions haphazardly? I said no thank you and moved on my way.
Now what?
When I stepped outside, I was struck anew by how spectacular this campus was. How cool it must be to go to school here. The campus’s green was one thing, but down the hill, the water sparkled in the sunlight. I wasn’t sure what waterway that was-the Atlantic Ocean maybe?-but students were in crew boats rowing in perfect symmetry. The whole place felt upper class and rich. I expected a foxhunt or polo match to start up.
Maybe Jared was sick today. He lived, I knew thanks to Spoon, on the second floor of Barna House. I could go and see if he was there. The other option was to… to what? I could go find Ema at the deli, but then it might be harder to come back on campus without a lot of questions.
Might as well give it a try. I didn’t see where there was much to lose.
Barna House had to be the newest building at Farnsworth. While the other buildings were all stately brick, this was sleek one-way glass. I tried the door. Locked. You needed a key card to get inside. I waited about ten seconds. A student opened the door from the inside. I smiled, held the door for him, and entered.
I’m a master at the art of the break-in.
Two boys were playing Ping-Pong on a Wii connected to a giant-screen TV. They still wore jackets and ties, though the ties were loosened to the point where they might serve better as belts. Groups of boys sat on either side of the combatants, cheering them on with a gusto I normally associated with live football games. There were oohs and ahhs and trash-talking.
I headed up to the second floor. I didn’t know the room number, but as it turned out, I didn’t need to. The names were right on the doors. I started down the corridor. I was surprised that all the rooms were singles. I had always pictured prep school students as having roommates.
The third door read JARED LOWELL and his graduation year. He was indeed a senior. I knocked on the door and waited.
“So who are you really?”
I turned to the voice. It was Blond Mop. He wore only a towel around his waist. The blond mop was wet and pasted to his forehead. I assumed that he had just gotten out of the shower.