“Who we’d like to tap?” said Juno, popping into the Library before the door closed. “Seriously! Let’s not let our standards slip, huh?” She slid into a seat next to me. “Please tell me we’re discussing Michelle.”
“We’re attempting to,” Lucky grumbled.
“Good!” Juno smiled, an expression I’d learned to associate with the same anticipation as I would a shark attack. No doubt she disapproved of my untraditional choice as well.
But even Juno had some surprises up her sleeve. “I really liked her,” she said. “I mean, she’s a liberal nutbag, but she gave me some great advice about hybrid cars.”
“So that makes for good tapping criteria?” Lil’ Demon asked.
“Guys, please!” Lucky exclaimed, raking her hands through her short, choppy hair. “I’ve got a dozen more of these to do and I haven’t been to sleep yet.”
Everyone settled down.
“Okay.” Lucky spread out some papers. “So, leaving aside for a moment your totally uncool springing of this upon me, Bugaboo, let’s discuss Michelle because, as I think we’ve now seen, she made quite the impression last night.”
Well, that was nice to hear!
“There’s good news and bad news.”
Uh-oh.
“First, the good. Here’s a copy of her college application. As you can see, she’s stellar. Westinghouse scholar, state science fair champ, rocked 5s on her AP Physics, Calculus A and B, Chemistry, Biology, U.S. History, and English exams, and made all-state on her cross-country team.”
“Cool!” Big Demon said, tilting the application toward him. “What were her times?”
“She was accepted into Duke, Rice, Berkeley, Bryn Mawr, Bates, and turned down a scholarship at NYU Polytech to come to Eli.”
Lucky pulled out a new sheaf of papers. “At Eli, she jumped into the sciences with both feet. Freshman year she took seven classes and three half-credit labs and had a GPA of three-point-five, which is crazy good once you consider that two of those classes were Molecular Biochemistry and its lab.”
Lil’ Demon looked confused. “Why is that a big thing?”
“It’s a weed-out class,” Juno explained. “If you break C-plus, you’re a superstar.”
Lucky cleared her throat and pressed on. “That summer she was a research assistant for a Professor Coudriet, who together with ‘et al.’ recently published an article on—” Lucky squinted at the printout “—calcium regulated apoptosis pathways—whatever those are—in the journal Biochemical Pharmacology and thanked Michelle in the acknowledgments.”
“Good thing for LexisNexis,” I said.
“Indeed,” Lucky said. “Sophomore year was more of the same, plus she began volunteering at a local middle school to tutor children in the sciences and run their science fair. There’s an article in the EDN about the program she started.” She held up another printout. “Looky here: written by Topher Cox.”
“Weird!” I said. And yet simultaneously awesome. Michelle, on paper, was working out to be a fabulous choice for science tap. No one would be able to deny her qualifications. Now all I had to do was convince them to tap her for that spot, and then I’d take Topher as my “official” choice to appease the patriarch powers that be. This would work! It had to!
“Now, here’s where things start getting wonky.”
Crap.
“That summer, she was apparently supposed to work for Professor Coudriet again, but she bailed by July.”
“To do what?” I asked.
“Take a class in River Chemistry and Reclamation at the Eli Forestry School. Which she aced.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, she is my Geology T.A. Maybe she decided to leave Pharmacology and get into Natural Science?”
“Possibly,” said Lucky. “But would one class prevent her from assisting this guy again? I mean, she was on campus anyway. And, because Professor Coudriet has this embarrassing habit of saving e-mail drafts to himself on the Chem department server, I know that in order to entice her back, he offered to add her to the ‘et al.’ on the list of authors in his latest article.”
“Publication credit?” Lil’ Demon asked, already wide eyes growing wider. “As an undergrad? And she skipped out on that?”
Juno’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the e-mail. “He sounds like he has a crush on her, here. Sketchy.”
Everyone’s heads went back and Lucky nodded sagely. “There may be another reason that she quit.”
Lil’ Demon rolled her eyes. “You people and your standards. Put up with the old lech for a few months and get your name on a paper, girl!”
Lucky flipped to a new page in the pile. “Junior year is when we get to the bad news. First of all, her grades went into the toilet. Her GPA dropped to a two-point-three first semester. She quit the mentoring program she’d started. She dropped not one, but two labs. And the semester abroad she supposedly took in the spring? It’s a fantasy.”
“What!” She had to be kidding.
“Well, she may in fact have gone abroad. I don’t know. But she wasn’t enrolled in any program, and get this—according to the records I snagged from the Registrar’s Office, she was signed up for five classes until the end of the drop/add period.”
“So what was it?” Big Demon asked. “An incomplete?”
“Since she dropped them in time, technically she wasn’t enrolled as a student in Eli at all that semester. But it’s clear she’d been planning to be.”
I slumped in my seat. Well, that was that. There was no way Rose & Grave would countenance a 2.3 GPA, even from a science major, unless they were about to quarterback for the NFL.1*
“So … is she a burnout, then?” Lil’ Demon asked.
“It looks that way,” said Juno, adding “Liberals” under her breath.
(This had been happening a lot, ever since her Spring Break job put her under the mentorship of one of the world’s foremost neocons.)
“Not entirely,” Lucky said. “The research project she was doing first semester this year was totally legit, and what’s more, it might get published. And despite the poor showing at the beginning of her junior year, she was still invited to T.A. a class her first semester back. Whatever happened to her, she seems to have gotten her act together.”
“Maybe she went to rehab,” suggested Lil’ Demon.
“A drug addict?” Juno said. “Yeah, that’s who I want in my society.”
“Ex-drug addict,” Big Demon corrected.
“And she wouldn’t be the first,” added Lil’ Demon.
“At any rate,” said Lucky, her tone weary, “that’s her story. I’ll see what more I can find.” She reached her hand across the table and touched my arm. “Look, Bugaboo, I’m not saying you shouldn’t pursue this. I’m not even saying that the things we’ve found are necessarily deal-breakers. But know right now that she’s going to have to explain herself at the interview if there’s even a chance of us considering her. And the explanation better be a heck of a lot better than ‘rehab.’” She shook her head. “You’ve got an uphill battle ahead of you.”
Of course I did. Of course.
To my credit, I did attend my Geology section afterward. Michelle winked at me when I arrived, which caused an involuntary stiffening of my spine.
It was, I admit, not entirely fair to her. After all, if she wasn’t going to act any differently after discovering Jamie was my boyfriend, then I shouldn’t act any differently after discovering he used to be hers.
Or that she was a potential burnout and possible drug addict who had just complicated my life in a completely different way. I wondered which bit of info I was reacting most strongly to?
The class itself was genuinely interesting. The professor presented slides from his recent trip to Antarctica and the section (of suck-ups, showing up on a Friday without owing favors to the T.A.) paid careful attention. Some even took notes, as if the shots of the professor and his intern trying to digest Meals-Ready-to-Eat would be on the final exam.
&nbs
p; Michelle remained rapt throughout the entire lecture. I kept my focus on her. Perhaps I should be taking notes of my own. Why We Should Tap Michelle Whitmore, Reason #335: It would be cool to have a knight at the South Pole.
Would that make up for the lousy GPA?
When class ended, I tried to get Michelle’s attention, hoping she’d meet me for lunch, but she was deep in conversation with the professor and eventually I figured it was awkward to stand around any longer. They clearly had plans.
I hiked back to Prescott and found Josh and Lydia snuggled on the couch, flipping through an IKEA catalog. “Amy!” Josh called. “Maybe you can help us end a debate. Birch finishes are too eighties, right?”
Lydia and I exchanged long looks. “I think it’s too early to be thinking about furnishing your apartment in Palo Alto,” I said.
“Man, you sound like Lydia,” said Josh. “Whereas I’d be on Craigslist today if I had my way. She wants to wait until August to move out there. Why don’t we just go, you know? After graduation?”
Lydia stared at her hands.
“I’m sure you’ll be deciding soon, either way,” I said, giving her a meaningful glance she utterly ignored.
Whatever. I had my own issues to deal with. I headed for my room.
“He went home, you know,” Josh said, flipping a page in the catalog.
My steps faltered.
“Also, how did the thing go with the thing this morning?”
Michelle’s vetting. I turned back to him. “There are a few complications.”
“Figures.” He flipped another page. “I’d just go with another one.”
“The path of least resistance?” I snapped. “I think too many of us are going in that direction lately. Just doing the easy thing for fear of rocking the boat, upsetting the status quo, going against the plan because the better choice comes with a few risks.”
Lydia gave me a warning look it was my turn to ignore.
“Don’t you think so, Lyds?”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said with a tiny laugh. “Barbarian that I am.”
I perched at the edge of the coffee table. “Hey, Josh. Not to change the subject or anything, but what do you think of Eli Law?”
His brow furrowed. “Uh, I think it’s the best law school in the country?”
I leaned forward. “And if a promising young student in the field of law had the opportunity to attend that school, don’t you think they should take it?”
Josh’s expression was one of bafflement. “Is Jamie thinking of dropping out?”
“Yes!” Lydia cut in before I could clear the air. “It’s the loans. He can get a scholarship if he transfers to … Rutgers.”
Rutgers? I almost laughed. Rutgers was where Lydia had been offered a scholarship. Josh had to know that. I shot her a dirty look, but we were getting to be experts at the ignoring thing by this point.
“That’s tough,” Josh said thoughtfully. “Law school loans aren’t that bad if you’re willing to slave in the private sector for a few years.” Which Jamie was, by the way. “But if you want to go into public service, or do advanced study … it can get a little overwhelming.”
Oh, this was ridiculous. We were so not having a conversation about my boyfriend’s ability to pay for his JD.
“I’ve always gotten the impression that Jamie didn’t actually want to be a lawyer,” Josh was saying now. “In which case, Eli is perfect for him—right, Lydia?”
“Some people who go to Eli want to be lawyers,” she said, her tone defensive.
“Most want to go into government, though, like Jamie.”
I shook my head. “No, Jamie wants to go work for big law and make a mint.” He’d been very clear about that when we’d spoken on the train last fall. He wanted to make sure he’d never be financially beholden to anyone. He wanted the security his father had been unable to offer as a landscaper.
Josh frowned. “That’s not what he’s told me.”
“But—” I said, Lydia’s plight forgotten, and the phone rang.
Lydia answered, then handed it to me. “I think it’s …”
“Hello?” I said.
“Hi, Amy,” said Darren.
“Darren,” I said as my blood ran cold. “I thought I made it clear last time that I don’t want to—”
“I’m just calling to tell you that they are letting me go today.”
“Already?” I blurted. Damn my tongue!
“Yep.” He laughed. “I talked to the guy who’s in charge and he says I’m fine.”
“That’s … nice.”
“And he said that he thought you and my dad were overreacting.”
“Over—”
“To what was basically a fraternity prank.”
“But—”
Darren’s tone was smug. “I guess ‘boys will be boys’ works again, huh?”
I clenched my jaw, uncertain whether to scream or cry.
“So now Dad’s taking us all to Disney World.”
“Darren,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from shaking, “I want to talk to your father. This was not our agreement.”
“Well, Dad’s not here. I’m calling from the residence hall.”
“Look—” I began, and then the phone was ripped from my hands.
“Darren Gehry,” Josh said into the receiver, “don’t ever call here again.” He clicked it off and threw the phone onto the couch.
My mouth fell open. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I’m sick of putting up with this travesty of justice. The Gehrys took advantage of you when you were in a very vulnerable position, and it’s not right.”
I took a deep breath. “Kurt Gehry swore to me—”
“That’s what ‘taking advantage’ means, Amy.” Josh’s tone was firm and condescending. “And now we’re going to call the police and report what happened.”
“You have no right to make that decision for me.”
“Amy,” Lydia said, “maybe you should think about what Josh is saying.”
“He wasn’t even there!” I cried. “He’s never even met him!”
“I trust his opinion,” Lydia argued, “and if he thinks—”
“That’s such crap!” I yelled at her. “If you really trusted his opinion you wouldn’t be lying to him!”
“What!” Lydia said.
“What?” Josh asked.
“Lydia got into Eli Law,” I said. “She’s been afraid to tell you.” Then I turned and stalked into my bedroom.
Two days later, the chill in my suite still hadn’t dissipated. At dinner before the Rose & Grave meeting on Sunday night, Soze made a point of pretending I wasn’t there, and I calculated the odds of the other knights deciding that my outburst, which was in keeping with my oaths to put my society brothers first, outweighed the fact that telling your best friend’s secrets to her boyfriend was an astoundingly uncool thing to do.
I still hadn’t come to a conclusion on that issue myself. Nor on whether or not I would have spilled the beans had I not been so frazzled by Darren’s phone call and Josh’s Neanderthal behavior.
And yes, I totally brought it up to Jamie. We’re doing the openness thing now.2* How did the conversation go?
1) He wondered aloud why it was that catty BFF/suitemate drama of this nature was almost entirely unique to what some—not him, mind you—but what some antiquated and backward individuals might call “the weaker sex.” (I resisted pointing out that he had neither suitemates nor friends with whom to indulge in catty drama, then gave him a playful—but not at all weak—smack.)
2) He agreed that Josh was better off knowing about Lydia’s acceptance to Eli, even if it meant an earlier end to their romance than either of them had anticipated. (He remained silent on the issue of whether or not I had any right to be the bearer of the news.)
3) He asked what I was going to do about Michelle now that we knew there were problems in her record. Apparently, the news had surprised him. B
ack when Jamie had been friends with her, she’d been an academic superstar. (I said we were going to get to the bottom of it, either before the interview or at it.)
4) He admitted that whether or not Michelle ended up being a good choice to tap, bringing her to the party was still a “patently Bugaboo thing to do.” (Naturally, I fined him, and tried my best not to wonder if “patently Bugaboo” held a positive or negative connotation.)
And, as expected, he hadn’t attended this meeting, either. All well and good to be involved in the tapping process when it came with free champagne and sushi, but if it was sitting around debating the relative merits of a bunch of twenty-one-year-olds, Poe wanted us to feel independent and in charge. Right.
All I felt was weary as we discussed and debated and deliberated over the pros and cons of the juniors we’d met last week. Should we interview the guy on Big Demon’s list, knowing that if we did, we could cross off the girl on Angel’s? Their messy breakup precluded either one of them speaking to the other (let alone taking oaths to protect and love each other). Had Thorndike tainted the purity of the process when it came to her list by explaining to each of them what they were being considered for? Had Frodo corrupted his favorite choice by hooking up with him? (Quoth Angel: “The guy? Perhaps. My bath mat? Definitely.”)
“And finally, we come to the matter of Bugaboo’s list,” Soze said, still not acknowledging me directly. “It is my understanding that the knight wishes to make a trade?”
“Yes,” I said, rising. “I would like to trade my red marble for the black marble belonging to our missing knight, Number Two. And I would also like to submit a junior for consideration in that knight’s slot.”
“And who would you like in your slot, Bugaboo?” Soze prompted.
I was going to have to say it out loud? “I propose to tap Topher Cox. He’s got all the qualifications we look for in our members. He’s the managing editor of the Eli Daily News. He’s a legacy, as his grandfather was Achilles of D125. And …” Nope, I was out.
Tap & Gown Page 14