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that mean he’ll try to get Halle back?”
    Brad points a finger in the air. “Score one for the new guy. Question is, will Halle take him back after he dumped her? And of course he hasn’t dumped Jenna yet. So you have a small window of opportunity, if you know what I mean.”
    I never said I liked her, but I guess it’s obvious. Why else would I be quizzing Brad about her life?
    â€œSo if you think she’s hot, why aren’t you going after her?” I ask him.
    Brad shakes his head. “She’s not the type to go for a farm boy who uses agricultural pesticides and is proud of it. Besides, I have a girlfriend. Alexis lives in Duluth with her mom but spends summers here with her dad.”
    Even farm boy Brad has a girlfriend. I’ve never been remotely close to having one. If I’d stayed in school, would things have been different? Not that I had a lot of friends back at Pascal Elementary, where the last two years I got in trouble almost every week for correcting my teachers.
    The running documentary of my life back at Pascal Elementary starts to play in my head. It runs for a few minutes and when I finally break free of it, Brad is gone. I didn’t even hear him get up or say good-bye. My plate is empty, too.
    Dr. Anderson has a quote on his door that reads, “If we remembered everything, we should on most occasions be as ill off as if we remembered nothing.” The quote is from William James, a famous psychologist who lived around the turn of the century. His brother was the novelist Henry James and his sister was Alice James, and … the bell rings. I’m late for class again.

My California Tutor
    â€œCall me Coyote,” he told me the first day we met. His real name was Jack Simmons. I thought I’d be calling him Mr. Simmons. “And we’ll be meeting out on the south terrace, so wear sunscreen if you burn easily.”
    Coyote was a bushy red–haired grad student from Michigan. The Grad Program had run out of assistantship money when he applied, but there was a stipend available to tutor their newest subject, which was me.
    I was twelve years old and Dink had just been sentenced. I had some trust issues. I didn’t want a tutor. I didn’t want to go to school. I didn’t want anything other than to be left alone. But adults never listen to what you want.
    Jack’s goal in life was to get a tan. He told me he thought that if he spent short periods of time in the sun and used sunscreen with a high SPF he’d accomplish that task even though he was a fair-skinned redhead and his previous attempts had always turned his skin lobster red.
    â€œFirst thing we need to do is figure out what you like,” he said, “because nobody studies unless they’re rewarded and I’m not about to mess with grades and all that stuff. So we need a system where you study and then get rewarded and I give you all As if you pass your tests. So what do you like?”
    I’d never been asked that before. “I like to ride my bike.” After Dink was arrested I took long bike rides and I’d pedal as fast as I could, dangerously fast. I don’t really know why I did that.
    â€œCool. I’ll see if I can get a couple of bikes for us to use and we’ll plan some long rides.”
    That perked my interest. The Institute was surrounded by curvy, tree-lined roads and steep hills.
    So each day we spent two hours studying on the south terrace. I developed a deep tan and Coyote turned a darker shade of pale. On Fridays after I passed my tests we’d go biking through the hills, speeding down winding roads and slowly trudging back up. Sometimes we talked as we biked, but mostly I just felt the wind wrap around me and tried not to remember or think about anything except the road up ahead. Sometimes it worked.
    One day I was having trouble with a math assignment. I could always remember the formula, but I was struggling with the