books, two pairs of socks, and finally a black umbrella. He held it out to Bennett. “My father gave it to me for my seventeenth birthday.”
Bennett plucked it from Winston’s hand and swung it around by its curved wooden handle. “Great gift.”
Winston ducked to avoid being bopped. “Please take care with it. He purchased it on one of his visits to England.”
Why’d they stick him with this boring kid, anyway? He and Winston had nothing in common. Next year Bennett planned to reside in a fraternity house instead of in the dorms. If he came back at all.
“I’ll be careful. See you later.” He hurried downstairs, but once he reached the ground floor, he couldn’t decide where to go. He couldn’t visit Alice-Marie or Libby—they were both gone. Pete would probably be studying—he was getting as boring as ol’ Winston.
He tapped the tip of the umbrella against the floor, and the tapping reminded him of Pete’s habit of tapping his peg leg. Even though he figured Pete would be studying, he’d go see him anyway. It would do Pete good to close the books and have some fun for a change. Maybe they’d play a game of gin rummy. He still had a pack of cards in his jacket pocket from the last time he’d played. Pete wouldn’t gamble, but they could play for pleasure.
After a few moments of fumbling, Bennett figured out how to raise the umbrella, and he darted across the slick grass to Landry Hall. He shook the raindrops from the umbrella before setting it in the corner of the foyer and clattering up the stairs. His wet shoes left footprints behind, but the floor would dry in time. Without bothering to knock, he twisted the knob on Pete’s door and swung it wide. As he’d suspected, Pete was at his desk, bent over a sheet of paper with a pencil in his hand.
“Hey, buddy, working on anything important?”
Pete jerked upright. “Bennett . . . you startled me.”
“Sorry.” Bennett kicked off his wet shoes and flopped across Pete’s cot. The springs creaked loudly in protest. “I came over to see if you wanted to play a game of cards or something. Some of the guys taught me a game called gin rummy—it’s pretty fun.” He patted his pocket where the deck of cards created a lump. “Want to?”
Pete sighed and massaged his temples. “I’d like to, Bennett, but I need to—”
“—work,” Bennett finished for him. He bounced up from the bed and crossed to the window. Bracing one hand on the window frame, he frowned at his friend. “Honestly, Pete, you’re turning into a real spoilsport. When’s the last time you did anything fun?”
“When I pitched for your baseball game.”
Bennett turned quickly to look out the window so Pete wouldn’t see his face pinch with anger. The campus chatter about Pete’s surprising performance had finally died down, but half the students still called him Peg leg Pete. They hadn’t given Bennett any special nickname to set him apart.
“That was weeks ago, buddy.” It took real effort, but Bennett kept his voice even. “I’d say it’s time for something again.”
“Too wet to play baseball,” Pete mused. He shifted his attention back to the papers on his desk.
“So who says baseball’s the only way to have a good time?”
Bennett took two long strides that brought him to the edge of Pete’s desk. “Aw, c’mon, Pete. Take a break. Play a round of gin rummy with me. I’m about to go out of my mind with boredom.”
Pete’s pencil continued scratching across the page. “Read a good book. Work on next week’s assignments. There’s got to be something you can do.”
“I don’t feel like reading, and I save Sunday afternoon for homework. This is Saturday. Fellas ought to have fun on Saturdays.”
Pete rubbed the back of his neck, yawning. “Tell you what, let me finish this and then I’ll try my hand at . . . what did you call that game?”
“Gin rummy.”
Pete made a face. “Sounds like an alcoholic drink.”
At Pete’s tone, Bennett experienced a flash of irritation. “Quit being so stodgy.” He sat on the bed again and threw his arms wide. “Just because you’re studying to become a minister, does it mean you have to act like one now? Can’t you be a regular guy now and then?”
Pete put his pencil down and turned in his chair to face Bennett. “You want an honest answer? No, Bennett, I can’t just be a regular guy. I haven’t been a