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Authors: Margaux Froley
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airbrush tan vs. year-round natural tan. It didn’t seem like Cleo was especiallyheartbroken over Bodhi. She was the one who’d gone off in search of Eli, their mysterious dimpled waiter.
So why did kissing Bodhi feel like a betrayal?
It didn’t matter. Cleo probably understood Devon better than anyone on campus, better even than Presley. Besides, Devon couldn’t wait to tell Cleo the dirt that she had on Eli, thanks to the Elliot siblings. Though, knowing Cleo, the fact that Eli was a hired evildoer might even make her like him more.
Devon scribbled on a Post-it pad on Cleo’s desk.
Miss me? Find me when you’re back. –D .
With that, Devon hurried from Morgan House and walked to the edge of the hillside. Her eyes traced the sloping green lawn that met with thick bushes, giving way to pine trees and redwoods, the wilderness below. Dark gray clouds rolled in from the ocean. Cotton-like wisps of cloud crept through Reed’s grapevines.
She wondered if Bodhi was working in the guesthouse.
What was going to happen with her and Bodhi now? Had he thought that kiss through? What if she’d said no or pulled away? Would it have ruined their friendship? Too many hypotheticals to consider … She needed something to distract her busy brain. And she knew exactly what that distraction needed to be. The kiss had made her forget a very important piece of business—namely, that she still hadn’t opened Reed’s diary.
D EVON ’ S BACKPACK WAS STILL on the floor where she had left it last night.
She frowned as she picked it up, thinking of how red her face must have been when she’d dashed into the dorm thirty seconds before the curfew bell rang. Ms. Hadden had frowned out the door while it swung closed, as if expecting to see a boy running back tohis dorm with a blanket over his shoulder. But no, there was no boy. None that she could see, anyway.
Devon Mackintosh, on time. Check
.
Next time, Devon wouldn’t wait until 9:50 to dash. She flopped on her bed and pulled out the diary, careful to avoid creasing the brittle paper.
Jan. 1, 1942
Dr. Keaton has changed my life a second time. First when he accepted me into his physics program at Berkeley. Now he has invited Athena and me to stay and work with him on a top-secret new project for the war effort. I’m probably not even supposed to say the words “top secret,” but it is a secret, even from us. Dr. Keaton doesn’t even really know the true nature of our work, but he believes that is for our safety, which I’m happy to believe .
It’s hard to describe our new home. Near Santa Cruz and up the hillside some. An Army jeep manned by a Corporal Grayson drove Athena and me over from Berkeley. Dr. Keaton’s lab wasn’t much more than a tent with wooden planks for floors and metal tables stacked with boxes .
“We’re getting the buildings put up in the next month or so. Would hate to have our work affected by the elements, you see.”
Those were his exact words, the words I remember most clearly. The rest is a fog of excitement. He asked Athena and me to quit Berkeley and live up here and work with him. I am so honored. It is the noblest opportunity .
And he did share one secret .
He introduced us to someone, a woman, when he invited us for tea in another tent. She wore tan riding pants and was putting cups and a teapot on a tray. I could hear a faint whistle from the metal kettle on the stove .
“Hana, we have guests,” Dr. Keaton said to her.
Instantly we realized she was Japanese. She had a milky complexion, more fair-skinned than the Chinese workers I was used to seeing around Oakland. He knew that Athena and I would be shocked, and he wanted to gauge our reaction. And it’s not like we have anything against a Japanese person. It’s just that since the bombing of Pearl Harbor last month, the whole country is looking at Japanese people differently .
Hana led us to a nearby picnic table, where she poured tea for each of us. Dr. Keaton watched us
So why did kissing Bodhi feel like a betrayal?
It didn’t matter. Cleo probably understood Devon better than anyone on campus, better even than Presley. Besides, Devon couldn’t wait to tell Cleo the dirt that she had on Eli, thanks to the Elliot siblings. Though, knowing Cleo, the fact that Eli was a hired evildoer might even make her like him more.
Devon scribbled on a Post-it pad on Cleo’s desk.
Miss me? Find me when you’re back. –D .
With that, Devon hurried from Morgan House and walked to the edge of the hillside. Her eyes traced the sloping green lawn that met with thick bushes, giving way to pine trees and redwoods, the wilderness below. Dark gray clouds rolled in from the ocean. Cotton-like wisps of cloud crept through Reed’s grapevines.
She wondered if Bodhi was working in the guesthouse.
What was going to happen with her and Bodhi now? Had he thought that kiss through? What if she’d said no or pulled away? Would it have ruined their friendship? Too many hypotheticals to consider … She needed something to distract her busy brain. And she knew exactly what that distraction needed to be. The kiss had made her forget a very important piece of business—namely, that she still hadn’t opened Reed’s diary.
D EVON ’ S BACKPACK WAS STILL on the floor where she had left it last night.
She frowned as she picked it up, thinking of how red her face must have been when she’d dashed into the dorm thirty seconds before the curfew bell rang. Ms. Hadden had frowned out the door while it swung closed, as if expecting to see a boy running back tohis dorm with a blanket over his shoulder. But no, there was no boy. None that she could see, anyway.
Devon Mackintosh, on time. Check
.
Next time, Devon wouldn’t wait until 9:50 to dash. She flopped on her bed and pulled out the diary, careful to avoid creasing the brittle paper.
Jan. 1, 1942
Dr. Keaton has changed my life a second time. First when he accepted me into his physics program at Berkeley. Now he has invited Athena and me to stay and work with him on a top-secret new project for the war effort. I’m probably not even supposed to say the words “top secret,” but it is a secret, even from us. Dr. Keaton doesn’t even really know the true nature of our work, but he believes that is for our safety, which I’m happy to believe .
It’s hard to describe our new home. Near Santa Cruz and up the hillside some. An Army jeep manned by a Corporal Grayson drove Athena and me over from Berkeley. Dr. Keaton’s lab wasn’t much more than a tent with wooden planks for floors and metal tables stacked with boxes .
“We’re getting the buildings put up in the next month or so. Would hate to have our work affected by the elements, you see.”
Those were his exact words, the words I remember most clearly. The rest is a fog of excitement. He asked Athena and me to quit Berkeley and live up here and work with him. I am so honored. It is the noblest opportunity .
And he did share one secret .
He introduced us to someone, a woman, when he invited us for tea in another tent. She wore tan riding pants and was putting cups and a teapot on a tray. I could hear a faint whistle from the metal kettle on the stove .
“Hana, we have guests,” Dr. Keaton said to her.
Instantly we realized she was Japanese. She had a milky complexion, more fair-skinned than the Chinese workers I was used to seeing around Oakland. He knew that Athena and I would be shocked, and he wanted to gauge our reaction. And it’s not like we have anything against a Japanese person. It’s just that since the bombing of Pearl Harbor last month, the whole country is looking at Japanese people differently .
Hana led us to a nearby picnic table, where she poured tea for each of us. Dr. Keaton watched us
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