Secret Society Girl by Diana Peterfreund

Author:Diana Peterfreund [Peterfreund, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780440243892
Google: TVrDqyFfJmkC
Amazon: 0440243890
Publisher: Dell
Published: 2007-05-01T05:00:00+00:00

Somehow, I convinced George not to start out for the tomb (since that was his purpose in coming over, to pick me up for a late-night jaunt to Rose & Grave) until after I was sure Brandon had made it home. The path to the Diggers’ tomb was identical to the quickest way back to Calvin College, and I didn’t think that shadowing his steps would make this whole evening any less awkward. But explaining the situation in language and decibel that would be unidentifiable to Lydia (who was still in a huff and her bedroom) did not prove the easiest prospect.

“I’m not alone,” I whispered, after a quick trip into my room to change into an outfit more George-worthy. I crooked a thumb toward Lydia’s closed bedroom door.

He nodded. “So let’s go over to the tomb,” he said loudly, “see what’s happening.”

My eyes widened. “I’m. Not. Alone,” I hissed, gesturing more strongly.

He grinned now, and his eyes sparkled behind the matching copper-rimmed glasses. “Why, Amy Haskel,” he said in mock reproof, “I had no idea you were such a wild woman. How many boys do you have hidden in your suite this Saturday night?”

I rolled my eyes and pulled on a pair of shoes. Leave it to George Harrison Prescott to equate everything with sex. “No, you priapic hornball. My roommate. Ixnay on the Iggersday.”

Now it was his turn for an eye roll. “Yeah, like Lydia doesn’t know Pig Latin.” He threw his arm around my shoulders and herded me to the door. “Let’s go.”

Actually, Lydia knew real Latin, too. She had been a Classics major for three semesters. And “priapic hornball” was a bit redundant, though with George, it wasn’t overstating the case. At the entryway door, I stopped him.

“Here’s the thing, George. That guy who just left? He’s in Calvin College. So we can’t just follow him down to Rose & Grave or he’ll know what we’re up to.”

“Please,” George scoffed. “Do you really take any of that secrecy stuff seriously? Besides, it’s a free campus. You and I can go wherever we’d like.”

I planted my feet. “I do take it seriously! We took oaths. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

He looked at me and blinked. “No,” he said at last. “I have to say it doesn’t. If there were a train coming and I had the choice to save my mother or some random Digger, I’d pick my mom, no matter what stupid oath of fidelity or fraternity or whatever it was that I took in front of a bunch of jerks in costume.”

When put like that, it was hard to disagree. “But there’s no train here,” I argued. “You’re just talking about it to be a punk.”

He laughed then, a look that suited him even better than the serious one he’d copped a moment ago. “That’s the truth. Okay, we’ll wait a minute, since your secret’s so precious to you.”

The way he said it made me feel childish for obeying the society rules. And then I remembered his antics from last night.

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