Baumgartner Generations: Henry Read Online Free PDF

so he could paint the entire lawn blue. He
just wanted to play “shark,” he’d told her—and it didn’t look enough like an
ocean. Mostly, she was kind and sympathetic and understanding. It drove him
crazy. “She’s just worried. She wants to help.”
    “Are you
going to let her help?” Libby gave him a sly glance.
    He shrugged.
“She wants to get me a tutor.”
    “Hey, that
was my suggestion.”
    “I know.”
    “So what do
you have against tutors?” She nudged him in the ribs and he grunted. “Is it a
pride thing?”
    “I guess.”
He pretended to be interested in what was going on down on the field.
    “Everybody
needs help sometimes.” Libby leaned in to say this, almost whispering. “It doesn’t
mean you’re stupid or anything.”
    “Gee
thanks.” The wind had picked up and he hoped it explained away the redness in
his cheeks.
    “I’m
freezing.” She was shivering again and he pulled her closer, wishing the
armrest between them would disappear. The band had started again, the fight
song this time, and people were on their feet. At least it blocked the wind.
    “Hey, do you
think Dean would know if we went back to your room?”
    Her words made
him stiffen. In more ways than one.
    “Probably
not.” He tried to sound casual. “He wanted me to take you back there afterwards
anyway. He’s got some frat stuff to do first.”
    Libby rolled
her eyes. “Ugh. Alpha Pi Alpha?”
    “That’s the
one.”
    She made a
face. “The worst of them all.”
    “What’s that
supposed to mean?” He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but Dean had convinced
him it was a great group of guys, that if he pledged, he would have friends for
life. “Brothers, “Dean said. That was what convinced Henry. He had an older
sister, but he’d always wanted brothers.
    “You’re not
pledging, are you?” Libby gave him a funny look, frowning.
    He loved the
way her brow crinkled. Those lines would probably develop into something
permanent when she was older. She’d probably hate them and curse them and want
to get Botox injections or something. And he thought, if he were lucky enough
to still be alive and around when Libby hated those lines, he would love them
just as much then as he did right now.
    Henry
deflected the question. “Why?”
    “I did a
story for The Michigan Daily about hazing last year,” she told him. “They
do some awful stuff to their pledges.”
    “Ah hah!”
Henry exclaimed, still deflecting. “So you were a reporter!”
    “ Were is the optimum word there.” Libby stood and Henry lamented this, scanning her
pretty, round face. She held a gold and blue mittened hand out to him and he
couldn’t resist. He would have said yes to anything she asked. “Come on, let’s
go get warm.”
    Libby kept
close the whole walk back to the dorm, her arm linked through Henry’s—and he
was pretty sure it wasn’t just because she was cold. Bel’s door was open as
they went by and he waved from his bed, the TV loud. The game was on, and the
cheers of the crowd sounded both on the television and far in the distance, an
echo.
    “This is
better than shivering in the stands!” Libby pulled off her mittens, hat and
scarf, shaking her hair out as she left her coat on his bed, already wandering
around the room. He threw his coat next to hers, shoving them both over to sit
cross-legged on the bed, watching her touch things, pick them up, put them down
again.
    She explored
Henry’s desk this time, marveling at the volume of mini cassette tapes he had
there. “Why so many?”
    “I record
all my lectures.” He grabbed his iPod out of habit, flipping through for
something to listen to.
    “Whatcha
got?” Libby crawled onto the bed and he welcomed her warm weight as she settled
herself beside him. “Anything good?”
    Without a
word, he reached over and opened his desk drawer, pulling out two pairs of
headphones. He had a splitter that allowed them both to listen at the same
time, and he handed her a pair. She