Free Breakfast Served Anytime by Sarah Combs Page A

enthusiasm — about the world itself.
    “May I have a glass of milk, please?” Calvin asked Xiu Li, who grinned, nodded, and disappeared with a friendly hum on her lips. I liked Xiu Li. She seemed to be the sort of person who could kick your ass very, very gently.
    Chloe and I exchanged an amused glance at Calvin’s milk, and then the jangly bell on the door heralded the arrival of the Mad Hatter, who had clearly woken up that morning in rare form. I mean he obviously knew we were there, right? But he walked in and acted all blasé, checking out the display of free newspapers in the entryway,
La la la, I have all day, the world revolves around me, la la, and oh! Who’s this lovely girl spinning on a bar stool at the breakfast counter?
    “Mason’s here,” I deadpanned. “Taking his sweet time as usual. He’s talking to some girl over there.”
    Chloe turned around to look. “I don’t know about those shoes. A little stripper-ish for nine in the morning on a Tuesday. Do you think that’s his girlfriend?”
    “Okay, yall should really not be staring like that,” Calvin said. “Pass the syrup, please.”
    Chloe rolled her eyes and feigned oppression. “Calvin, please. You and your milk. Why shouldn’t I stare? Seems like it’s always
us
waiting for
him
. Have you noticed the pattern?”
    “Yes,” I answered, trying to concentrate on my pancakes. They really were delicious. Xiu Li was my hero.
    “Good morning, good morning,” Mason intoned brightly as he folded himself into the booth beside Chloe. “Are these for me?” He nodded at the pancakes.
    “Yes, Your Highness,” Chloe said. “Courtesy of
moi.
Who’s the girl?”
    “Her name’s Andrea,” Mason answered, carefully avoiding everybody’s eyes.
    “Andrea,” Chloe repeated, balancing a bite of pancake between her chopsticks. “Right, right. Should I ask her to join us, or what?”
    “Nah. She’s a friend of my sister’s. Just some girl.”
    “You have a sister?” Calvin inquired, as if this were a revolutionary piece of information.
    “Two sisters, actually. The female-to-male ratio in my house is three-to-one, four if you count the dog.”
    Three females, one male, a watchdog. It was time to change the subject. “That’s fascinating,” I broke in, “and Mason, I’d love to know more about your family tree and your pseudo-girlfriend at the counter over there, but let’s get on with it, shall we? Chloe. Tell us what you know.”
    Chloe nodded and leaned in close to us, her green eyes bright with mischief. “Right,” she said. “So I think the clue’s waiting for us in the tomb of Thomas McGrath.”
    Urn, as in Grecian Urn, as in the Urn in Which the Remains of Thomas McGrath Are Buried in a Crypt Beneath Morlan College’s Notoriously Haunted McGrath Hall. Call it a stretch, but still: Once Chloe suggested it, the total and complete obviousness of it felt like a blow. Had it really taken us eighteen whole hours to figure that out? I scowled and huffed all the way to McGrath Hall, where we were met at the welcome desk by a sunny creature whose name tag said MEGHAN .
    “Good morning, welcome to Morlan College, can I help —” Meghan chirped, rising from her seat, but as soon as she saw Mason, her voice flattened and dropped a couple of octaves. “Oh. Hi. What are you doing here?”
    Mason sauntered past the rest of us and plucked a card from the little card holder on Meghan’s desk. “Administrative Assistant,” Mason read aloud, nodding his head in exaggerated approval. “Sounds important.”
    Meghan crossed her arms over her impressive chest and closed her eyes for longer than a blink. “Mason, I’m working. One more time: Can I help you?”
    “Actually,” Mason swaggered, “my friends and I were hoping for a look at McGrath’s tomb.”
    “There’s a campus tour at eleven,” Meghan replied, eyes averted. “Come back then.” Having provided her final answer, she sat back down and busied herself with a stack of