The 22nd Secret (51 page)

B
e
n
w
a
lked into
t
he
c
las
s
room
a
t one minu
t
e
a
ft
e
r
the hou
r
.
P
a
t
t
y
s
a
t in
t
he
s
a
me spot as the p
re
vious w
e
e
k, re
a
ding
h
e
r te
x
t
book. He
sat do
w
n in h
i
s same
se
a
t
, with an
e
mp
t
y
d
e
sk b
e
tw
ee
n th
e
m
“
Hi,
P
a
t
t
y
.”

P
a
t
t
y
looked up
f
rom
h
e
r
book
a
nd smi
l
e
d
.

“
Hi,
B
e
n
.
”

“
How
a
bout some lun
c
h
a
ft
e
r
c
lass
?
”
P
ro
fe
ssor
W
e
iker
e
nt
e
r
e
d the
room
a
n
d s
e
t h
i
s books down n
e
x
t
t
o the
l
ec
te
r
n
.

“
Ok
a
y
.”
P
a
t
t
y
whisp
e
r
e
d
a
s the
c
lass p
r
e
p
a
r
e
d for
th
e
le
c
tur
e
.
S
he
loo
k
e
d
a
t
B
e
n
a
nd sm
i
led.

B
e
n talk
e
d
c
onst
a
nt
l
y
th
r
ou
g
h lunch.
A
bout
W
e
i
k
e
r
’
s cl
a
ss,
a
bout
S
a
n
F
ra
n
c
isc
o
,
a
nd
a
bout
c
u
r
r
e
nt
e
v
e
nts. He
s
a
id
he
w
a
s
f
rom
Ne
w
Y
o
r
k so he
c
ould avoid ta
l
king
a
bout
C
hin
a
.
P
a
t
t
y
said v
e
r
y
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
S
he
sm
i
led a
lot
a
nd
ac
ted i
n
te
re
sted. She
did
m
a
ke
a
ment
a
l
sug
g
e
st
i
on
a
ssuring
B
e
n
would
a
sk
h
e
r out. Th
e
y
a
t
e
h
a
mbu
r
g
e
rs
a
nd
f
ri
e
s
a
t
t
he
stud
e
nt un
i
on. A
f
ter
l
un
c
h,
B
e
n
w
a
lked Pat
t
y
to
h
e
r
ca
r.
H
e
tried
to
i
g
nore
t
h
e
fac
t
t
h
a
t
his
l
ife
d
e
p
e
n
d
e
d on h
e
r int
e
r
e
st
i
n hi
m
. At the l
a
st
m
oment,
he
d
ec
ided not to risk as
k
ing
h
e
r to
d
a
y
. He
would
a
sk h
e
r out
a
f
t
e
r n
e
x
t w
ee
k
’
s
c
lass.
B
ut
t
h
e
n t
h
e
wo
r
ds sudden
l
y
tu
m
bl
e
d out of hi
m
.

“
You bu
s
y
F
ri
d
a
y
ni
g
ht
?
” His sto
m
ac
h t
i
g
hte
n
e
d
.
He
thou
g
ht
o
f
He
n
r
y
’
s
gun poin
t
e
d
a
t him
und
e
r the
table
a
t
t
he
re
stau
ra
nt.
P
a
t
t
y
turn
e
d,
sm
i
led, sta
r
ing
in
t
o Ben
’
s
e
y
e
s.

“
No,
I
’m not.”
S
he
ma
n
a
g
e
d
not
t
o la
u
g
h
a
t
his obvious
re
l
i
e
f or
h
e
r
p
r
ovo
c
a
t
i
on
of
him
a
sking
h
e
r out.

B
e
n quick
l
y
re
g
a
ined
c
o
ntro
l
.

“
G
r
e
a
t, how
a
bout d
i
nn
e
r
a
nd a
mov
ie
?
You w
a
nt
t
o pick the
mov
i
e
?
”

“
S
u
re
,”
she
s
a
id, s
m
i
l
in
g
.
S
he
pul
l
e
d h
e
r h
a
ir
b
e
hind her
e
a
rs.

“
I
’ll pi
c
k
y
ou up
a
round
7.”

P
a
t
t
y
g
ot
i
n h
e
r c
a
r
a
nd s
t
a
rt
e
d the
e
n
g
i
n
e. Ben
wa
t
c
h
e
d his own
r
e
fl
ec
t
i
on
a
s she
low
e
r
e
d h
e
r
window.

“
W
a
i
t
,
y
ou pick it. A
n
y
t
h
in
g
’s
f
in
e
.”
P
a
t
t
y
w
a
tc
h
e
d him
standing
a
wk
w
a
rd
l
y
.

“
Ok
a
y
,
g
r
ea
t
.
S
e
e
y
ou
a
t
7
F
rid
a
y
n
i
g
ht.”

P
a
m
thou
g
ht of the
num
b
e
rs in h
e
r
a
d
d
r
e
s
s
.

“
Oh
y
ea
h
,
”
B
e
n said.
“
W
h
a
t’s
y
o
u
r
a
dd
r
e
ss
?
”

“
W
h
y
don
’
t
y
ou
c
a
ll
me?
M
y
number
i
s
–
”
B
e
n d
r
opp
e
d his books
a
nd fu
m
bled to
g
e
t
t
o a blank p
a
g
e
in h
i
s not
e
b
o
ok.
P
a
m
e
nj
o
y
e
d th
i
s i
s
l
a
nd of
c
ontrol in the
s
e
a
o
f submission
that would ch
a
ra
c
te
r
i
z
e th
e
ir
r
e
lationshi
p
.

“
Ok
a
y
,
I
’m
r
e
a
d
y
.
”

P
a
t
t
y
r
a
t
t
led o
f
f h
e
r nu
m
b
e
r.

“
C
a
n
I
c
a
ll
y
ou ton
i
g
ht
?
”
B
e
n
a
s
k
e
d.

P
a
t
t
y
g
rew s
h
y
.
“
C
a
ll
me
wh
e
n
e
v
e
r
y
ou
w
a
nt
.
”
S
he
looked di
rec
t
l
y
in
t
o B
e
n
’
s
e
y
e
s and made
sure
h
e
would.
“
I
’
m
l
ooking
f
o
r
w
a
rd to Frid
a
y
n
i
g
ht.”