The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,4

But she didn’t turn it. She stared at the wall, puckering her brow.

Why hadn’t Daddy let her know things were so bad? Why hadn’t Mother told her they’d moved? Anger churned in her belly. She wasn’t a child to be coddled anymore. They should have been honest with her. How cruel to let her find out on her own. She expected better from her ordinarily loving parents. Even if they couldn’t call, they could have written. They should have—

She jolted. Maybe they had written. When had she last visited her mail cubby? She cringed. Six weeks ago, at least. Caught up in sorority activities, studying, and other end-of-year programs and events, she hadn’t even thought about checking for letters from home.

Guilt chased away the anger. She smacked the receiver into its cradle, bolted from the telephone booth, and headed for the mail cubbies.

Addie

HOLDING HER BREATH, ADDIE LEANED down and peered into her mail cubby. Three letters waited in her box. Her breath burst free on a little cry of regret.

She pulled them out. A quick glance confirmed all were from her parents. She pressed the envelopes to her aching chest and bit the inside of her lower lip. Hard. Punishingly hard. When they hadn’t received a reply to their missives, Mother and Daddy must have thought she didn’t care at all. And they were right to make such a presumption. How could she have been so neglectful?

She arranged the envelopes in chronological order according to the post office date stamps but then impulsively slapped the most recent one, sent the third of May, on top. She would read it first, although she already surmised what she would find inside, given her conversations with Dean Crane and Mr. Bowles.

Likely, the letter would confirm no money was coming. She wouldn’t be allowed to take her final examinations. The entire semester, all the studying and completed assignments, was wasted. Sadness—or was it anger?—struck with force. Facing Dr. Crane and admitting that her parents were unable to pay the bill would require courage. Maybe she wouldn’t meet with him after all. What was the use?

With the letters gripped firmly in her hand, she set a straight path for Patterson Hall, ignoring the winding sidewalks and crossing the recently mowed grass instead. Students were discouraged from treading upon the lush lawns, and she’d always made use of the established walkways. But she wasn’t a student any longer, and therefore, the rules didn’t apply to her. Besides, if she didn’t reach her room quickly, she might not be able to hold back the tears pressing for release. She’d nearly bitten through the tender skin behind her lip, and it wasn’t helping. If she was going to cry, she would do it in private.

She reached the women’s dormitory, trotted through the foyer, clattered up the staircase, then burst into her room. Felicity leaped up from the desk in the corner and spun toward the door, her blue eyes wide and her slender hand pressed to her lace bodice.

“What are you doing here?”

They asked the question at the same time. Felicity sounded confused, but aggravation tinged Addie’s tone. She tamped down the unwelcome emotion and spoke more kindly. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“Professor Dunbright had a toothache and canceled. So I decided to study for my biology examination, even though the subject positively bores me to tears.” Felicity perched sideways on the chair, draped her hands over the chair’s ladder back, and rested her chin on her knuckles. “Tell me about your meeting with Dean Crane. Was his office as dark and spooky as my guys say?” Felicity always referred to the half dozen boys who regularly ran in their circle of friends as her guys. Sometimes Addie found it endearing, and other times childish. In her present mood, the reference rankled.

“It was dark but hardly spooky.” Addie plopped onto the corner of her unmade bed, sliding the letters from Mother under the rumpled sheets. “I keep telling you not to listen to the guys. They like to exaggerate.”

“I know.” Felicity wrinkled her nose, giggling. “But they’re so cute. I can’t ignore them.”

Addie lowered her head and fiddled with the envelopes, stifling a sigh. How had she and Felicity formed such a tight bond, given their many differences? Felicity was an active member of the arts-and-theater sorority, while Addie had pledged the literary sorority. Felicity was flighty and prone to giggles, but Addie—having been raised by loving but older, no-nonsense parents—rarely indulged in giggling or impulsive