In one swift motion, Connor mooned them.
“Hope you brought your runners!” he yelled, pressing his bare bottom against the window a second time before dashing after Max and David.
They ran for two blocks, finally coming to a sudden stop, where they gasped for breath and plundered Max’s sweets. David looked reborn; his cheeks flushed pink, and Max thought it was the first time he had ever seen David so happy.
Glancing at the store window behind them, Max spied a small set of paints on display. It occurred to him that it had been some time since he’d had the chance to really draw or paint like he used to with his mother. He squinted at the price. They were expensive, but they were very nice; they looked like something a real artist would use.
“We better go hide somewhere,” laughed David, rubbing his hands and glancing back up the street.
“Yeah,” said Connor, looking about. “I don’t want my bum picked out of a lineup. They could do it, too—they got two good looks at it!”
Connor and David dissolved into giggles again while Max tapped his finger thoughtfully against the store window, studying the set’s clean little tubes of color.
“Hey, I’m going in here,” said Max. “I’ll catch up.”
When the shopkeeper set the paints before him, Max began counting out his money almost immediately. The set had more colors than he’d ever used, and even its box was fancy with its delicate brass hinge. He sorted his bills and change on the counter but was two dollars short. The woman smiled and took his money, sliding the set into a small bag.
“I can spare two dollars for a young man who wants them that badly. You go enjoy them—maybe bring me something that you paint!”
“I will,” said Max, beaming as she pushed the bag into his hands.
The trees were casting long shadows as Max, carrying his bags of sweets and paints, strolled toward the theater. Just as he passed Luigi’s, the pizza parlor, he heard a voice call out behind him. Alex had emerged from Luigi’s, trailed by Sasha and Anna.
“Hey, Max,” Alex called out in a friendly voice. “How you doing?”
Max said nothing and watched them.
“What’s the matter?” said Alex, walking toward him. “What do you have to worry about after you ran and cried to Jason Barrett?”
“I didn’t tell Jason anything,” Max said, glowering, switching the bags from his right to his left hand.
“Sure you didn’t,” Alex said sarcastically. “Just remember, Max. Jason graduates this year and I won’t forget.”
Alex walked past him and swatted Max’s bags onto the street. The chocolates and toffees spilled out onto the pavement, but those weren’t what concerned him. The case for his paints had broken and the little tubes of paint littered the sidewalk.
“Hey, I wanted that candy!” moaned Sasha, trotting after Alex.
Max bent to gather his things when Anna walked slowly toward him, a thin smile on her face.
“You know, that was a nice picture in the paper. You should have heard us laughing. I thought Julie Teller was going to pass out!”
Her pretty features twisted into a tight little smirk as she walked methodically over the candy and paints, grinding them with her heel. Max’s heart sank as he looked at the resulting smears. Anna gave a satisfied smile and rejoined Alex and Sasha, who howled with laughter as the three continued down the sidewalk.
Max watched them go and began to shake with rage. It took all his control to smother a predatory urge that rose up within him. He could not go after them; Mr. Vincenti had threatened grave consequences for Max if he got into another fight.
He tried to clean up the mess, using the broken case to scoop up the crushed candies and splattered tubes of paint and throwing it all into a nearby wastebasket. Storming off to the theater, he had walked several blocks when he heard voices call out from above.
“Hey, Max! Up here.”
He stopped near a bench at the entrance to the green. Connor and David were grinning at him from up in the branches of a gnarled tree. Connor’s mouth was smeared with chocolate.
“There’re lots of names and initials carved up here,” said David excitedly. “I think I found one by Mr. Morrow. It says ‘Byron loves Elaine ’46.’”
“I can’t picture old Byron as a kid,” mused Connor. “Imagine a wrinkly kid with a pipe snogging in this tree a hundred years ago.”
Max laughed, happy to resume the good time he had been having. With a quick step, he caught a branch and hoisted himself up to join them.
“Hey, can I try one of those sand dollars you bought?” asked David, tracing the carved lines of a limerick with his finger.
“Oh, I dropped mine on the street and they got smooshed,” Max said quickly. “I threw them out.”
“You should have kept them!” moaned Connor. “We could have used them for an Etiquette scenario!” His imitation of Sir Wesley’s voice was perfect. “Scenario Number Twenty: Salvaging the Mangled Sweets of the World.”
“They’re in the garbage can at the corner if you want them,” sighed Max. Connor seemed to think it over a moment before letting the matter drop.
They spent the next two hours exploring the village green, climbing a bronze statue of a man on horseback and perusing the names on the granite headstones in a small cemetery. It was getting dark when they finally ran back along the cobblestones, weaving their way through old-fashioned streetlamps and converging with other First Years at the foot of the high hill.
The Grove was a sprawling, well-appointed house whose lower floor had been converted to several large dining rooms. Max followed Mr. Vincenti and a hostess down a hallway lined with maps of early New England and frayed etchings of whaling scenes. Max’s section of First Years was seated in a candlelit dining room whose table was decorated with Indian corn and short sheaves of wheat bound with copper wire. Mr. Vincenti rearranged the seating to alternate the boys and girls. Max found himself sitting between Sarah and Miss Boon.
Mr. Vincenti took his seat at the head and rang his wineglass.
“I’d like to propose a little toast.”
The students reached for their wineglasses filled with apple cider.
“To a month under the belts and young minds on the move!”
The glasses clinked, and even Miss Boon managed a smile as Mr. Vincenti began quizzing the group about the more memorable experiences to date.
“Any mathematicians in this bunch?”
They all tossed out David’s name, except for Jesse, who offered his own.
“Who’s a whiz at science?”
Sarah blushed as her name was called.
“Any budding ambassadors or diplomats among us?”
Everyone screamed, “Connor!” who received the accolade with typical bravura, wiping away fake tears.
As Mr. Vincenti continued rattling off the subjects, waiters brought steaming plates and baskets of food. Warm squares of thick cornbread, sizzling crab cakes, and plates of cod and perch drizzled with lemon were set on the table. Max nearly spit out a mouthful of sweet potatoes when Lucia and Cynthia reenacted one of Connor’s many efforts to impress the older girls on campus. Even Mr. Vincenti put down his fork to laugh as Lucia swaggered about the room, sucking in her tummy and lowering her voice.
An hour into the meal, the group laughter gave way to smaller conversations; Max watched as their hostess entered the room and bent down to whisper into Mr. Vincenti’s ear. Mr. Vincenti excused himself and continued their conversation in the hallway.
As soon as Mr. Vincenti left, Miss Boon turned to Max.
“You know,” she said quietly, “I happened to overhear Nigel mention to Ms. Richter that the tapestry you discovered involved the Cattle Raid of Cooley?”
“Yeah,” said Max, distracted. His eyes wandered back to where he could see Mr. Vincenti’s very still shadow in the hallway. Something was wrong.
“Max,” she said tersely. “Say ‘yes.’ Has Sir Wesley told you that ‘yeah’ is not proper English and that it’s rude not to look at someone when he or she is speaking to you?”
Max flicked his eyes back toward her face.