Waiting For Sarah Read Online Free PDF Page B

semester.”
    Her smile disappeared. “I’m not so sure ...”
    â€œI also want a guaranteed pass for his cruddy course.”
    â€œOh!” Her face fell. “That might be stretching things a bit.”
    â€œThem’s the conditions.”
    â€œI don’t think he’ll go for it. But I’ll try. If I try really hard for the pass and I don’t get it, but I
do
get the time-out, will you do it for me anyway?”
    â€œNo.”
    He didn’t care that much about passing Dorfman’s stupid course, or about any of his other courses either, but he knew he had a few class marks, enough when combined with provincial exam marks, to get him through. That should satisfy his aunt.
    Cowley was still babbling. “... I’ve already talked to Miss Pringle — she’s the yearbook sponsor again this year — and she’s arranging for the library archives to be opened up for whoever takes the job. I told her it’d probably be you.”
    He stared into the glint of her glasses. “I didn’t know we had archives at Carleton.”
    Robbie parked himself on the table top next to Mike, stuffing fries into his smile.
    Cowley pulled out a chair from under the tableand sat down. Now she and Mike were on the same level. “It’s a little room off the library,” she said. “Nobody ever goes in. It’s kept locked. The key is in Pringle’s office on a hook behind the door. She let me take a quick look inside.” She pulled a face. “It’s a bit of a mess, but you’d be left alone in there. Be your own boss; no Dorfman, no overhead notes ...”
    Mike, already enjoying the picture of himself up to his ears in old historical documents and photographs, let her ramble on; he was only half listening, thinking how he would do almost anything to be away from his history teacher: the man depressed him.
    His attention returned to Cowley.
    â€œ... she could help you sort out the chaos a bit, help you find stuff ...”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe
girl
.”
    â€œWhat girl?”
    Cowley gave a sigh. “The eighth grade kid from the yearbook committee I just finished telling you about. As I said, we’ve got plenty of eager beavers on the committee this year. Do you want a girl?”
    Robbie butted in. “I want her. Especially if she’s cute.”
    Cowley glared at him. “You should watch that waistline, Robbie. It’s already bigger than your IQ.”
    Robbie blinked.
    â€œYou’re a cow, Cowley,” Mike growled. “And you’re not exactly anorexic yourself.”
    â€œThanks,” said Cowley, unruffled. “What about the girl?”
    â€œI prefer to work alone.” He didn’t need a girl, didn’t need anyone. It would be good to be alone in Carleton’s archives, looking through old yearbooks.
    â€œWhat was all that about, man?” asked Robbie when Margaret Cowley had gone.
    Mike explained.
    â€œSounds as bad as Dorfman’s class to me, though come to think of it, maybe you could catch up on your sleep. Want some fries? Where are the archives anyway?”
    Mike declined the out-thrust bag with a shake of his head. “There’s a small locked room, back of the library. Cowley says nobody ever goes in there, not even Pringle. Think of all those old school newspapers stashed away, and yearbooks and photos and who-knows-what-else.”
    â€œCobwebs maybe,” said Robbie. “And ghosts.” He laughed.
    Mike noticed his friend’s laugh was a bit strained. Cowley’s insult had hit home. He knew Robbie was sensitive about his weight. Some of the other kids made fun of him behind his back, calling him names. Overweight people (people of weight?) were discriminated against as much as “people of color.” Robbie was also sensitive about his low grades. There were only two things Robbie didn’t like: exercise and schoolwork. It wasn’t