might have noticed her lurking around campus and called the cops. She ducked into a bookstore.
She browsed the shelves of used hardcovers. One title stood out to her: Slaughterhouse-Five , the exact book Eliad had mentioned.
She gently lifted it from the shelf. The jacket copy described the book as a "classic," as "antiwar," and as the story of a man traveling through time, which startled her. She looked at the back flap of the book. The author had a thick mustache and a curly mane of hair, with a kind of weary, knowing melancholy in his eyes.
When the police rolled out of sight, she bought the book and returned up the block to spy on Logan as he emerged from the arts center. He took out his phone and nodded politely while the same blue-eyed girl ran her mouth at him. He pointed back over his shoulder, trying to walk away from the girl, and she gave him a quick hug before letting him go.
Raven followed Logan at a distance of a few blocks. With so much time to kill on the bus, she'd discovered her glasses could zoom in and out, and they could also switch to night vision and thermal vision. She'd tested the thermal vision by looking through the clothes of a cute guy at one of the bus stations.
She was tempted to kill Logan right away, but it wasn't a good time and place for it. They were in public, surrounded by students, teachers, campus police, maintenance workers, and gardeners, and Logan himself was an annoyingly social creature, accompanied by friends and classmates at every step.
While she waited between his classes, she read Slaughterhouse-Five. From the first page, the book was different from what she'd expected. The first chapter seemed like an introduction, telling the story of how the author had slowly put together the novel over many years.
The real story began in the next chapter, following a World War Two soldier named Billy Pilgrim who was "unstuck in time," moving randomly from one moment of his life to another. She began to understand Eliad's reference to the book.
After his classes, Logan met up with a group of students at the intramural fields. Raven kept her distance, watching the young men and women jogging in shorts and running shoes. Logan himself appeared to be the leader of the group, staying several long strides ahead of the others.
When the group began to slow after a couple of miles, Logan ran backwards, still maintaining his long lead. He bellowed at the others.
"'P' is for the 'P' in Pierson College!" he shouted. "'I' is for the 'I' in Pierson College..."
Grinning, several of the runners joined in with the ridiculously simplistic song: "'E' is for the 'E' in Pierson College...'R' is for the 'R' in Pierson College..." The group picked up speed as they sang.
A tall girl at the front scowled at Logan as she struggled to catch up with him. She seemed a couple of years older than him. Raven wondered if she was the actual leader of this running team, an established captain who'd seen her position usurped by a loud, energetic freshman.
After the Pierson College song, he chanted insults about the eleven other colleges at Yale, each one growing a little more sexual or gruesome until he had everyone shouting to "Fuck Trumbull in the skull!"
"Who can catch me?" Logan yelled. He took off like a cheetah. The rest of the group put on a huge burst of speed after him, some of them shouting with renewed enthusiasm. The tall girl had a truly hateful look for him now.
Raven felt a sick fascination watching the future dictator as a teenager. He's just a boy , she thought. At eighteen, he was only a year younger than her, but he hadn't been scarred by life as she had, hadn't starved and seen death all around him. He'd no doubt lived in a safe, happy bubble full of money and toys, with no idea what the word "suffering" meant. In the future, when he would inflict misery on vast numbers of people, he would have no real sense of the pain he created. He would not care. He would care only about maintaining and
She browsed the shelves of used hardcovers. One title stood out to her: Slaughterhouse-Five , the exact book Eliad had mentioned.
She gently lifted it from the shelf. The jacket copy described the book as a "classic," as "antiwar," and as the story of a man traveling through time, which startled her. She looked at the back flap of the book. The author had a thick mustache and a curly mane of hair, with a kind of weary, knowing melancholy in his eyes.
When the police rolled out of sight, she bought the book and returned up the block to spy on Logan as he emerged from the arts center. He took out his phone and nodded politely while the same blue-eyed girl ran her mouth at him. He pointed back over his shoulder, trying to walk away from the girl, and she gave him a quick hug before letting him go.
Raven followed Logan at a distance of a few blocks. With so much time to kill on the bus, she'd discovered her glasses could zoom in and out, and they could also switch to night vision and thermal vision. She'd tested the thermal vision by looking through the clothes of a cute guy at one of the bus stations.
She was tempted to kill Logan right away, but it wasn't a good time and place for it. They were in public, surrounded by students, teachers, campus police, maintenance workers, and gardeners, and Logan himself was an annoyingly social creature, accompanied by friends and classmates at every step.
While she waited between his classes, she read Slaughterhouse-Five. From the first page, the book was different from what she'd expected. The first chapter seemed like an introduction, telling the story of how the author had slowly put together the novel over many years.
The real story began in the next chapter, following a World War Two soldier named Billy Pilgrim who was "unstuck in time," moving randomly from one moment of his life to another. She began to understand Eliad's reference to the book.
After his classes, Logan met up with a group of students at the intramural fields. Raven kept her distance, watching the young men and women jogging in shorts and running shoes. Logan himself appeared to be the leader of the group, staying several long strides ahead of the others.
When the group began to slow after a couple of miles, Logan ran backwards, still maintaining his long lead. He bellowed at the others.
"'P' is for the 'P' in Pierson College!" he shouted. "'I' is for the 'I' in Pierson College..."
Grinning, several of the runners joined in with the ridiculously simplistic song: "'E' is for the 'E' in Pierson College...'R' is for the 'R' in Pierson College..." The group picked up speed as they sang.
A tall girl at the front scowled at Logan as she struggled to catch up with him. She seemed a couple of years older than him. Raven wondered if she was the actual leader of this running team, an established captain who'd seen her position usurped by a loud, energetic freshman.
After the Pierson College song, he chanted insults about the eleven other colleges at Yale, each one growing a little more sexual or gruesome until he had everyone shouting to "Fuck Trumbull in the skull!"
"Who can catch me?" Logan yelled. He took off like a cheetah. The rest of the group put on a huge burst of speed after him, some of them shouting with renewed enthusiasm. The tall girl had a truly hateful look for him now.
Raven felt a sick fascination watching the future dictator as a teenager. He's just a boy , she thought. At eighteen, he was only a year younger than her, but he hadn't been scarred by life as she had, hadn't starved and seen death all around him. He'd no doubt lived in a safe, happy bubble full of money and toys, with no idea what the word "suffering" meant. In the future, when he would inflict misery on vast numbers of people, he would have no real sense of the pain he created. He would not care. He would care only about maintaining and
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