mean Brandon was suddenly dating her or even suddenly friends with her. But no one
seemed to have mentioned that to Cora. It was only Wednesday morning, and already he’d had to turn down an invitation to study
together, to eat breakfast together, to go into the town of Rhinecliff together.
Thanks, but no thanks
.
He didn’t necessarily want to be a dick about it, the way he knew Heath would be without a second’s hesitation. Brandonwasn’t like that. He refused to be like that—what would be next? Would he wake up to find he really had transformed into
a degenerate asshole who couldn’t even be bothered to shower half the time?
He clicked to open the e-mail, resolved to be nice yet again. It didn’t really cost him anything to just be nice, after all.
But the e-mail wasn’t from Cora. It was from Callie.
Brandon read it once. Then again. Then, because it still didn’t make any sense, one more time.
But the words didn’t change. Callie was dumping him. Again.
“Callie just broke up with me,” he blurted out, too shocked and stunned to do anything else. At least this time she sent an
e-mail, he thought. It was better than, for example, walking into a room to find her kissing someone else.
“Shit, man,” Heath said. He moved to the hook on the back of their door and wrapped his ratty black scarf around his neck,
obviously done with the conversation. Brandon instantly regretted telling him about the e-mail at all, even involuntarily.
Heath shrugged into his charcoal Shipley & Halmos peacoat and grabbed his messenger bag from the floor, where he’d tossed
it the day before. Homework was one more thing Heath didn’t really do unless he absolutely had to.
“Later,” Heath said, and opened their bedroom door.
Brandon’s head was spinning—and he was pretty sure he was just too numb to feel what he ought to be feeling, so wouldn’t
that
be fun when it caught up with him—but he did know that the last thing he wanted was for the whole school to be talkingabout what a loser he was,
again
. That Callie had ripped his heart out,
again.
“Hey,” Brandon said. “Don’t mention this to anyone, okay?”
Heath gazed at him innocently. “Of course not, buddy.” He smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
16
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS THAT GOOD NEWS
TRAVELS FAST.
E asy was daydreaming through his history class, which was much more entertaining than paying attention. Farnsworth Hall was
famous for being one of the most overheated places on campus. Even though the windows were wide open, the room felt like a
broiler. He was approximately five hundred degrees and had been forced to strip down to his thinnest layer, a battered Jimi
Hendrix concert T-shirt he’d worn under his henley and hoodie. Directly beneath the windows, Kara Whalen had her coat and
hat on and was still shivering. Easy thought the waste of all that energy was more interesting than another discussion of
the New Deal, but he knew better than to say anything. Ms. Harrigan’s teaching style was more Attila the Hun than Earth Mother.
He missed his history class from fall semester. At least then he’d gotten to stare at Callie while he doodled in his notebookand imagined he was riding Credo through the fields somewhere, with Callie sitting behind him, clinging to his waist and
pressing up against him. This semester he had to have the fantasy without the visual aid. Still entertaining, if a little
bit less fun.
Easy looked up, startled, when Heath Ferro slid into the seat next to him. He wasn’t even in this class. Easy nodded in greeting,
but instead of returning the gesture Heath leaned toward Easy as he took off his coat.
“Did you hear?” he asked, a bright gleam in his green eyes. Easy knew that look. It generally meant trouble.
“Hear what?”
“Callie dumped Brandon,” Heath said, watching Easy closely. Too closely. “Harsh.”
For the first time since he’d been sent away back in the fall, Easy
seemed to have mentioned that to Cora. It was only Wednesday morning, and already he’d had to turn down an invitation to study
together, to eat breakfast together, to go into the town of Rhinecliff together.
Thanks, but no thanks
.
He didn’t necessarily want to be a dick about it, the way he knew Heath would be without a second’s hesitation. Brandonwasn’t like that. He refused to be like that—what would be next? Would he wake up to find he really had transformed into
a degenerate asshole who couldn’t even be bothered to shower half the time?
He clicked to open the e-mail, resolved to be nice yet again. It didn’t really cost him anything to just be nice, after all.
But the e-mail wasn’t from Cora. It was from Callie.
Brandon read it once. Then again. Then, because it still didn’t make any sense, one more time.
But the words didn’t change. Callie was dumping him. Again.
“Callie just broke up with me,” he blurted out, too shocked and stunned to do anything else. At least this time she sent an
e-mail, he thought. It was better than, for example, walking into a room to find her kissing someone else.
“Shit, man,” Heath said. He moved to the hook on the back of their door and wrapped his ratty black scarf around his neck,
obviously done with the conversation. Brandon instantly regretted telling him about the e-mail at all, even involuntarily.
Heath shrugged into his charcoal Shipley & Halmos peacoat and grabbed his messenger bag from the floor, where he’d tossed
it the day before. Homework was one more thing Heath didn’t really do unless he absolutely had to.
“Later,” Heath said, and opened their bedroom door.
Brandon’s head was spinning—and he was pretty sure he was just too numb to feel what he ought to be feeling, so wouldn’t
that
be fun when it caught up with him—but he did know that the last thing he wanted was for the whole school to be talkingabout what a loser he was,
again
. That Callie had ripped his heart out,
again.
“Hey,” Brandon said. “Don’t mention this to anyone, okay?”
Heath gazed at him innocently. “Of course not, buddy.” He smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
16
A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS THAT GOOD NEWS
TRAVELS FAST.
E asy was daydreaming through his history class, which was much more entertaining than paying attention. Farnsworth Hall was
famous for being one of the most overheated places on campus. Even though the windows were wide open, the room felt like a
broiler. He was approximately five hundred degrees and had been forced to strip down to his thinnest layer, a battered Jimi
Hendrix concert T-shirt he’d worn under his henley and hoodie. Directly beneath the windows, Kara Whalen had her coat and
hat on and was still shivering. Easy thought the waste of all that energy was more interesting than another discussion of
the New Deal, but he knew better than to say anything. Ms. Harrigan’s teaching style was more Attila the Hun than Earth Mother.
He missed his history class from fall semester. At least then he’d gotten to stare at Callie while he doodled in his notebookand imagined he was riding Credo through the fields somewhere, with Callie sitting behind him, clinging to his waist and
pressing up against him. This semester he had to have the fantasy without the visual aid. Still entertaining, if a little
bit less fun.
Easy looked up, startled, when Heath Ferro slid into the seat next to him. He wasn’t even in this class. Easy nodded in greeting,
but instead of returning the gesture Heath leaned toward Easy as he took off his coat.
“Did you hear?” he asked, a bright gleam in his green eyes. Easy knew that look. It generally meant trouble.
“Hear what?”
“Callie dumped Brandon,” Heath said, watching Easy closely. Too closely. “Harsh.”
For the first time since he’d been sent away back in the fall, Easy
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