Free The Class by Erich Segal Page A

anything essential. At that moment he caught sight of something lying on top of the desk. Even as he reached out, he had ominous forebodings of what it
    would be.
    Yes, he was right. It was the bluebook from D.D.'s Chem.
    20 midterm. And his roommate's nightmare had turned out to be prophecy. He had received a mere B-minus. As casually as possible, he folded the exam and stuffed it in his back pocket. -
    "Wait here, Mrs. Davidson. My car's a few blocks away. I'll run and get it."
    "I must be keeping you from your classes," she said meekly.
    "That's okay," he answered. "I'm just happy I can do something for David. I mean-he's a real nice guy." Mrs. Davidson looked into Jason Gilbert's eyes and
    murmured, "You know, your parents should be extremely proud."
    "Thank you," Jason Gilbert whispered. And ran off, a dull ache in his heart.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    ANDREW ELIOT'S DIARY

November 3, 1954 -
     
     
    One of the great joys of living away from home and not at prep school is being able to stay up all night. Now and then it's actually for something serious like finish-
    ing a paper that's due the next day.
    Mike Wigglesworth is an expert at this technique. He sits
    down at his typewriter at around- seven in the evening with a few notes and a half-dozen Budweisers. -He pecks out a first draft before midnight and then spends the wee small hours mixing in an appropriate quantity of bulishit. For the latter process he stokes up with coffee. Then he goes to breakfast, eats a dozen eggs and bacon (he's a crew star, after all),
    and drops off his paper. Then he goes to sleep until the afternoon, when he gets up to go down to the Boathouse. But last night all three of us had a respectable reason for staying up. To hear the outcome of the national elections. Not that any of us really gives a damn for
    politics. It's just a nice excuse for getting gently plowed. Typical of that provincial rag, this morning's Crimson
    focused on the quantity of Harvard men who'd been elected. No fewer than thirty-five of the new congressmen went to our humble college, not to mention four of the new senators. Now, when the nation's problems get too heavy for them, they can join Jack Kennedy in the Senate men's room and all sing Harvard football songs. As I sat at breakfast reading through the Crime, a sudden notion struck me. Maybe that unprepossessing guy at the next table eating Wheaties will someday be a senator. Or even President. The thing is that
    you never know who's going to make it. Dad once told me that
    FDR was pretty kooky as an undergraduate. So much
     
     
     
    so, he was blackballed by the Final Club that took his cousin Teddy.
    The Harvard freshmen are still sort of formless caterpillars. It really takes some time to find out who II become -the rarest butterfly of all.
    The only thing I'm certain of is that I'll remain a caterpillar all my life. - - -

From the Harvard Crimson of January 12, 1955:
     
     
    GILBERT TO LEAD YARDLING SQUASH TEAM Jason Gilbert '58 of Straus Hall and Syosset, Long Island, has been elected Captain of the Freshman Squash-Team. Gilbert, who attended
    Hawkins-Atwell, where he captained both the squash and tennis teams, is undefeated at the number-one slot thus far this season. He is also seeded seventh in the Eastern States
    Junior Tennis rankings. -
    C C ilbert, you deserve a medal," Dennis Linden re marked. "If you hadn't thought so quickly, that
    little nerd D. D. might actually have killed himself."
    The proctor had called him in not merely to commend Jason for his paramedical heroics, but to share with him a fresh dilemma. In other words, to impart some dubiously good news.
    "We've got another roommate for you," Dennis announced. "I personally chose him at a meeting of the proctors-because I really feel you could be a stabilizing influence on him."
    "Hey, this isn't fair," Jason protested. "Do I have to be a nursemaid again? Can't I just have someone normal?" Nobody -at Harvard