When their instructor, Bruce Evans, called the roll, the cute guy answered to the name of Henry Jackson, though he’d asked to be called Harry. Bruce had smiled and said, “Okay, Harry it is.”
Evans had asked them to choose a seat the next time the class met and sit in that seat for the rest of the term. He said it let him check the roll quickly so they could get onto the most important stuff. Justin made a point of sitting next to Harry. As he dropped his bag to the floor, Harry looked up, grinned, and said, “Let’s see, you’re Justin…something Irish. Ah, Quinn!” he announced triumphantly.
“That’s me. And you’re Harry, not Henry, Jackson.”
Harry made a fist and they bumped knuckles. Then Evans came in and class got under way.
When it was over, Justin said, “You got a class coming up, or
