How I Survived My Summer Vacation by Various

Author:Various
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

UNCLE DEAD AND THE FOURTH OF JULY

YVONNE NAVARRO

“I beg your pardon?”

Jenny Calendar tapped a fingernail on the colorful flyer she’d just slid across the library counter in front of Rupert Giles. “Come on, Rupert. It’ll be fun.”

Giles squinted down at the red, white and blue piece of paper. Curved across the top, in screamingly bright red, three-dimensional block letters, were the words JOIN OUR UNCLE SAM CELEBRATION!!! “ ‘It’ll be fun,’ ” he repeated. “Why do I always cringe when I hear that phrase?”

Jenny tilted her head. “It will,” she insisted. She folded her arms and gave him a stern look. “Plus it will get you out of this musty old library. It’s summer, remember? The birds are singing, the sun is shining—”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “And there are biting mosquitoes and sunburns to be had by one and all. Must we share in the experience?”

“We must,” she said. “Besides, it’s about time you learned to appreciate this holiday. It’s all about tradition.”

“I’m quite well informed in my history,” he said huffily.

“I’m sure you know the British version very well,” Jenny shot back. “But you live here now. You need to be imbued with the American spirit.”

He gave her a dark look. “Thank you, but such as things are around Sunnydale, I’d prefer to avoid being imbued with anything. Spiritual or otherwise.”

A corner of Jenny’s mouth lifted in a pretty smile, and despite himself, Giles felt his resolve weakening. “Point taken, but really, Rupert—lighten up. I just can’t let you spend the best months of the year tucked away in the library and hiding behind the excuse of a handful of summer-school students.” She pointed again at the flyer. “Besides, it’s on a Saturday.”

Blast it. “The Fourth of July is . . . Saturday?” He felt his last excuse slip away.

She nodded. “Yes, Rupert. And that would be tomorrow. Amazing how the calendar sometimes arranges that. Tuesday comes after Monday, Saturday comes after Friday—”

“Yes,” he cut in. “I believe I get it.” He shivered as the air conditioning suddenly kicked on and a cool draft skittered across the back of his neck, too much skin exposed by the casual summer shirt. He much preferred the formal shirt, vest, and tweed jacket that was his usual attire the rest of the year, but Jenny had pointed out that he was standing out among the summer faculty and students like a green cabbage in a petunia bed. He was sure that somewhere behind that observation was a gentle bit of mockery, but he couldn’t pinpoint it enough to defend himself.

“So I’ll pick you up at three?”

Giles blinked and mentally searched his schedule, desperately trying to find something—anything—that would rescue him. “Well, I—”

“Great,” Jenny said brightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She turned and strode briskly away.

“Wait,” Giles said. “What about, er, tonight . . . ?”

Jenny paused and looked at him inquisitively. “Tonight? Oh, no. Last night was a new moon. I have an on-line chat with my Wiccan group that starts at dusk. We probably won’t be finished until after midnight.

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