The Select Read Online Free PDF Page B

willing to do things their way."
    "Obviously this place isn't for the
wild and free spirits of the world," Matt said.
    "But the price is right,"
Quinn said. The price is very right.
    Tim shrugged. "No arguing that."
    "What's not to like?" Quinn said. "The
place is like a resort. The dorm is like a Hyatt, the caf is like a
fine restaurant, you've got a physical fitness center with a lap
pool, a great game room, and a top-notch faculty—"
    "Even a pub," Tim said.
    "Makes you wonder, though,
doesn't it?" Matt said. "I mean, what are they getting out of it?"
    "Simple," Quinn said. "The cream of
the crop."
    "Yeah...maybe."
    "TANSTAAFL," Tim said, and pointed to
Quinn with raised eyebrows.
    She guessed it was her turn to
identify a reference.
    "Easy," she said. "It
means There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. From The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein."
    "Hey, very good," Tim said, nodding
and mock applauding. "The lady knows SF too."
    Quinn was surprised to
find herself enjoying in his approval. She shook it off and said,
"Who wouldn't want to go to medical school here?"
    "Nobody," Matt said,
"until you realize that you must spend all four years right within these
wall."
    Quinn felt a flash of resentment. Easy
to say when money was no object. But she knew Matt didn't deserve
that. He was a sweet guy despite the silver spoon he'd teethed
on.
    "My point exactly," Tim
was saying. "What's the big deal? Why must you spend all four years in
their dorm?"
    Quinn shrugged. "I don't
know. But they're very serious about it. I understand they make you sign a contract
to live on campus all four years. You don't sign it, you don't
register."
    "And if you quit, you pay," Tim
said.
    Quinn was startled. She hadn't heard
about that. "Pay? Pay what?"
    "All your back tuition, room, board, book and
lab fees."
    "But that could be—"
    " Lots ," Tim said. "Upwards of thirty
thou a year."
    "But if you get sick or
hurt—"
    "No. Only if you transfer to another
medical school. If you get sick or hurt or change careers, it's
goodbye and good luck. But if you want to graduate from another med
school, watch out."
    Quinn figured Tim must have read every
line of fine print in the booklet.
    "What if you want to get
married?"
    "You wait," Tim said.
    "Or you marry a fellow Ingrahamite,"
Matt laughed. "But seriously, speaking as the son of a high-priced
lawyer, let me assure you: contracts can be broken."
    "Not this one," Tim said. "Not yet,
anyway. Some parents took The Ingraham to court a few years ago.
Their kid wanted to transfer to Cornell after two years here. They
spent years battling it, and lost. They had to pay."
    "Well, they won't have to worry about
me," Quinn said. "If I get in, I'm staying." And she meant it with
all her heart.
    But Tim's remark about no free lunch
nagged at her.
    Matt was staring at Tim. "Where'd you
learn so much about The Ingraham contract."
    " Time had an article on it awhile
back." Tim lifted his sunglasses and rubbed his right eye with his
index finger. "Let's see...it was the October 15th issue, page 12,
lower right-hand corner."
    Quinn stared in amazement, then
glanced at Matt for his reaction. He was grinning at
her.
    "He's kidding, isn't he?" she said to
Matt.
    "Didn't I tell you?"
    Tim sat up. "Tell her? Tell her
what?"
    "About your weird memory."
    Tim placed a hand over his
heart and let out an exaggerated sigh. "You had me worried there.
For one very bad moment I thought you'd told her about
my... other weirdness."
    "Oh, God, I'd never do that!" Matt
said.
    Quinn knew when she was being put on.
She stared at Matt with feigned shock.
    "Sure you did. You said he's got a shoe fetish
and his philosophy of life is somewhere to the left of
'Whoopee!'"
    Matt laughed but Tim was on his feet,
wagging his index finger at her.
    "I know that line! I know
it! It's from... A Thousand
Clowns . Murray Burns discussing his
sister. Right?"
    "Incredible," Quinn said. Matt hadn't
exaggerated. Tim Brown's memory was