The Vault of Dreamers by Caragh M. O'Brien

Author:Caragh M. O'Brien
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781596439399
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

19

THE LOOKOUT TOWER

LINUS’S HAIR WAS shorter, and he was wearing a dark jacket I hadn’t seen before.

“Hey, Sinclair,” he said. “You busy?”

I smiled and set the Ping-Pong ball back on Burnham’s paper clip. “Come on in. Do you know Burnham?”

Linus stayed where he was in the doorway. Burnham swiveled his chair around and said hi. Linus said hi back.

It wasn’t awkward at all.

Linus hooked a hand around the back of his neck and looked toward me. “I was wondering if you wanted to come do something,” he said. “I’ve got a half hour.”

“It’ll take me a minute to pack up,” I said.

“I can watch your stuff,” Burnham said.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Burnham reached over to swipe my touch screen, and nine bars showed the uploading progress of my footage. “No problem,” he said.

“Thanks. I’ll be back soon,” I said, and zipped up my backpack to leave it tidy by my chair.

Linus and I climbed the stairs to the main door of the library and pushed out into the fresh air. Though it was still sunny, the temperature had dropped, and I could hear a breeze rippling the trees along the quad.

“You cut your hair,” I said. He’d taken out a couple of his earrings, too, I noticed.

“It’s too short,” he said.

“No, it’s good.” I examined the back of his neck where the trim little hairs looked soft and sharp. He looked older, somehow, with the shape of his head more defined. “It’s definitely good.”

“Thanks. Want to watch the storm come in?” he asked.

I glanced over my shoulder at a dark bank of clouds. “Sure.”

“I know just the place,” he said, and reached for my hand. “You’re cold.”

“A little,” I admitted.

He shrugged out of his jacket and put it around my shoulders.

“But then you’ll be cold,” I protested.

“No, I’m fine,” he said. He had only his white tee shirt on, and I could see goose bumps all up his arms.

I protested again, but he insisted, and when I reluctantly slid my arms into the sleeves of his jacket, I could feel his residual body heat in the fabric.

“Okay, I’m never giving this back,” I said.

He laughed. “I’ve missed you,” he said.

“You saw me yesterday.”

“Even so.”

I lifted my gaze quickly to his. He meant he missed me at night.

“I have to be in class sometimes,” I said.

“I know.”

We moseyed between the chapel and the art building. He leaned over sideways and put a kiss on my earlobe.

“You’re cute in my clothes,” he said. “Want my pants?”

“Like that’ll happen,” I said, laughing.

“You wouldn’t have to actually wear my pants,” he clarified. He nodded at the chapel. “We could always take a couple blankets behind the organ.”

I’d heard about that. “But there are still cameras back there,” I said.

“I know. It’s not ideal.”

“And everyone would know what we’re doing.”

“They would, yes,” he said, smiling. “They would absolutely know.”

“Are you teasing me?” I asked.

“Maybe.”

“Just how old are you?” I asked.

“Seventeen,” he said. “How about you?”

“Fifteen.”

“When’s your birthday?” he asked.

“December.”

“December whath?”

“December fifth,” I said. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

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