and debonair. Otherwise, I might have felt ill at ease.
There were booths along one side and in the back. A counter ran along the other side. I sat at the counter next to a couple of schoolgirls who were giggling and whispering, maybe about me. Oh, Spenser, you dashing rogue, youâve still got it. The girls were wearing what I would eventually discover most Dowling schoolgirls wore: short, pleated skirts and sleeveless tops. One was blonde with a pink top. One was brunette with a white top. I ordered coffee, which took a while, because I had to reject a half a dozen special coffee drinks, which I also didnât recognize. There were two high-school girls in tan uniforms working the counter and an older guy wearing a tan overseas cap that said COFFEE NUT on it, who was making the coffee.
I turned and leaned my back against the counter.
âYou girls go to Dowling School?â I said.
âYeah,â Pink Top said and giggled. âYou?â
âCouldnât pass the entrance exam,â I said. âEverybody in here from Dowling?â
âSure,â Pink Top said. â âCept them.â
She nodded at the people working the counter.
âYou here last year when the shooting happened?â
âI guess so,â the girl said.
They had thought it sort of fun to get into conversation with a large older man, especially because they were surrounded by friends. But now they were uncomfortable.
âMy nameâs Spenser,â I said.
White Top poked Pink Top with her elbow.
âSee,â she said. âI told you it was him.â
Pink Top said, âWe had an assembly about you.â
âHot dog,â I said.
âMr. Garner said we werenât supposed to talk with you.â
âWhy not?â I said.
âMr. Garner said you were trying to ruin the Dowling Schoolâs reputation, and if you succeeded, weâd never get into a good college.â
âDo you believe Mr. Garner?â I said.
They giggled again.
âRoyce the Voice,â White Top said. âThe Peopleâs Choice.â
âMay I take that as a âno, we donât believe himâ?â I said.
âRoyce is gross,â Pink Top said.
âOr Groyce,â White Top said, and they both giggled some more.
âWhat would happen,â I said, âif he were right, and you didnât get into a good college?â
âMy mother would kill herself,â Pink Top said.
âMy mother would call me a slut,â White Top said.
âFor not getting into a good school?â I said.
âShe calls me a slut whenever sheâs mad,â White Top said.
âYou are a slut,â Pink Top said.
âTakes one to know one,â White Top said.
They both giggled some more.
âDid either of you know the guys involved.â
âYou know, casually. Say hi in the hall.â
âAny thoughts on why they did what they did?â
The girls looked at each other for a moment. They were being asked to think.
âYou know,â White Top said, âwhatâs amazing is it doesnât happen more often. You know? I mean, do you remember school?â
âI do,â I said.
âDid you like school?â
âNo.â
âGood. Itâs all bullshit, you know. Itâs all the official pious crap.â
âThatâs my memory of it,â I said.
âSo I donât know why they did it. But everyoneâs walking around, barely able to stand it, andââshe shruggedââthese guys went kaboom, I guess.â
âAnything set them off?â
âI donât know,â White Top said. âYou, Janey.â
âNo clue,â Pink Top said.
âAnyone in here knew them well?â
âGuys at that table played football with Dell,â White Shirt said.
âGrant,â I said.
âYeah.â
Pink Top swung her stool all the way around, which, given the shortness of her skirt, was
Learning to Kill: Stories