Chapter 3
Unable to concentrate, I glanced around the library, looking for familiar faces. Don Hammer was sitting to my left and a few tables back, boredly leafing through somebody's term paper. He must have been taking one of those stiff senior seminars on the poetry of Yeats, or Non-Shakespearean Elizabethan Drama, where you spend the whole term reading everyone else's term papers and ripping them apart. It was too soon in the year for that; he was probably reading an old one the library had on hand, just to get in shape.
Well, I wasn't much interested in talking to Don Hammer. Not after this afternoon. I didn't even want him to see me and smile his knowing superior smile at me in that patronizing way of his.
I spotted Lily Norman huddled over a big book four tables ahead of me. Sh
