LITMIR.BIZ

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slid into his desk and smiled at me. At me!

      Mr. Silver stepped behind his desk. “Has anyone begun interviewing respondents for the term paper?”

      No one raised their hand.

      “May I remind you that the project is due the day after Memorial Day? I understand that may seem like a lifetime away, but the dragon will shake his bumpy head before you know it. Now, has anyone even found a suitable subject to interview?”

      Shari Parker waved her hand. Her long fingers were covered with gaudy rings.

      “Good. Would you like to share some details?”

      She hesitated. “It’s like more of a question.”

      Mr. Silver groaned. “Please stand.”

      “Is it okay if the person is rich? I know it’s supposed to be someone who’s different from us, but I don’t know any poor people. I don’t even know where to meet a poor person.”

      “Try hanging at Wal-Mart,” someone yelled.

      “Yuck!” Shari’s mouth stretched clear across her face.

      Mr. Silver narrowed his eyes. “I shop at Wal-Mart, Shari.”

      Wordless for once, Shari sat down and Mr. Silver searched for his next victim. His gaze stopped on me. “Madison. Have you found someone?”

      “Maybe. That is, if he’ll cooperate. I don’t know much about him yet, but that’s the point of the assignment, right? He’s definitely the most different person I’ve ever met.”

      Mr. Silver slid his glasses down his nose. “All right, class. Listen carefully. Tomorrow I will expect you to bring a brief biography of your subject and explain why you feel this individual meets the criteria I’ve laid out. I especially want you to consider what impact you will have on each other’s life. And finally, bring a photograph of the person, one you take yourself. You will be amazed to find that the image will raise issues you otherwise would never have imagined. Any questions?”

      Quinn raised his hand. “I just got here, Sir. I don’t know anyone I could interview.”

      “See me at lunch time.”

      Quinn looked at me. “Think he has an old uncle locked in his attic?”

      I laughed. “That would be fitting. But, in case he doesn’t, I had someone lined up. I don’t think I have to use him now. He’ll be perfect.”

      “Cool,” Quinn said.

      The instant class was over and the bell rang, I grabbed my books and stood up. Short Stack came charging down the aisle, crashed into me and knocked my books on the floor. I fell face first into Quinn. As he caught my arm, I found myself looking at the greenest eyes and thickest lashes I’d ever seen. I hoped he wasn’t looking at mine. Mom was right. A little mascara wouldn’t hurt.

      He picked up my books. “Seems we’re destined to know each other. Can you meet me after school and clue me in on this project?”

      “Yeah. Definitely. We’re destined. I mean, I’ll clue you in.”

      Quinn shot me a peculiar look and handed me my books.

      “I guess I didn’t make much sense. I was tongue-tied. Don’t you think that’s an odd expression? Now, how does a person’s tongue get tied? What I meant to say was that I’ve got chorus last period, so meet me outside the auditorium.”

      “Perfect. That’s my last class too.”

      He gave me a thumbs up and took off. It was going to be a long day.

      Eighth Chapter

      In less than a minute we were on our bikes and about ten minutes later we skidded into my driveway, neck and neck. It had started to rain pretty hard and water was dripping from my nose. I hopped off my bike and poked Quinn in the side. “Thought you’d beat me, didn’t you?”

      “Aw, come on. I was just gliding. Anyway, since I didn’t know where you lived it would have been pretty hard to take the lead.”

      He brushed at the watery droplets on my nose. My legs turned to mush. I ran my jacket sleeve across my forehead. “Let’s go in.”

      He followed me into the entry, his head turning every which way. “Geeze. This is like a palace. Have you always lived here?”

      “No. We moved from California last summer. So, I’m a new kid on the block, too. Except, my grandma and grandpa have always lived here. It’s where my mom grew up.”

      “What brought you back?”

      “The story goes, that my dad’s best friend, who was chief of staff at River View Hospital, volunteered to serve as a doctor in Iraq. He asked Dad to take his position here. But I know there’s more to it than that.”

      I slipped my backpack off my shoulder then hung my jacket on the clothes tree next to the door. Anna, our housekeeper, came out of the kitchen holding an arm full of laundry. She looked Quinn up and down. “My goodness, my goodness.” She tilted her head. “You pick out nice friends, Maddie.”

      “Quinn, this is Anna. She keeps me in line when Mom’s away at school. The rest of the time she works at Grandpa’s and tries to help Grandma keep him in line.”

      Anna shifted the laundry, which nearly hid her. “Grandpa’s a full time job.” She laughed, and then went upstairs.

      Quinn looked over my shoulder and pointed to the grand piano in the corner of the living room. “You play?”

      I shrugged. “A little bit.” I picked up my backpack. “Let’s hang out in the kitchen. That’s where the goodies are.”

      Quinn didn’t move. His gaze was fixed on the living room. He looked entranced as the rain splashed against the windows and flames danced around the logs in the fireplace. “I’ve never been in a house like this,” he said. “You’d die if you saw our place. Most of it would fit in your entry.”

      “Our home in California was pretty small, too. But Mom insisted that if she had to move back to Tennessee and teach here instead of UCLA, she deserved a house that would make the change worth it. I think what she really loves is the river that runs behind the house. At least that’s one thing we have in common.”

      Quinn walked over to the piano and studied the large photograph in a silver frame. “I’ll bet this is your mom when she was your age. She looks a lot like you. It’s her smile.” Quinn placed a hand on his chest and grinned. “I’m a smile man.”

      I felt my face get hot. Oh, geeze. First he thinks I’m cool and now he likes my smile.

      “That’s my sister, Megan. She was the greatest.”

      I looked away and wondered if it would ever get easier to say it. “She died in an automobile accident five years ago. She was sixteen.”

      Quinn cleared his throat. “I … I’m sorry.”

      “It’s okay. How would you know?” Anxious to change the subject, I said, “we better start working on your application.”

      Quinn followed me to the kitchen, set his backpack on the table and pulled out the papers. Once I told him the kinds of things they wanted to hear, he completed it in a flash. “Done deal,” he said. “I met Silver at lunch and told him you had someone really interesting that I could interview since I don’t know anyone.”

      “Do I ever. My grandpa.”

      “Your grandpa?” Quinn jumped up. “Please don’t tell me he’s some cigar smoking millionaire.”

      “Hardly.” I laughed. “He’s a retired engineer who really wanted to be a meteorologist but thought they didn’t make enough money. So now he’s an addicted TV storm chaser and fisherman. Wait till you meet him.”

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