Free Finding Tom by Simeon Harrar

pair of wooden boards, and it’s not hard to see where they got it. Hopefully, Charles proves to be a little bit better entertainment. You mustn’t underestimate the value of good entertainment. Otherwise, you end up like Dr. Groves.”
    Changing the subject, I inquired, “Dr. Emory, what do you know about the secret societies?”
    “Aha, now there is an excellent question that I am well suited to answer, seeing as I used to be in one when I attended Locklear. Yes, it’s difficult to believe, but contrary to Dr. Grove’s beliefs, one can make a little mischief and succeed in the grand adventure of life at the same time. Because you are not in one of the secret societies, there is only so much I can tell you. There are rules about these sorts of things, secrets to be maintained. There is a constant competition between the three societies to outperform the others. In recent years, the challenge has been to see who can most greatly infuriate Dr. Groves without being caught. Those unfortunate few who have been caught have all been expelled, so it is a rather high stakes game.”
    “Dr. Emory, when do students usually get picked—if they are so lucky, that is?”
    “Usually it is late freshman or sophomore year. If you don’t get picked in your first two years, then your have missed your chance.”
    “Is there any way I can increase my chances of making it into one of the societies?”
    “Well, not too much, I’m afraid. You do have to be likeable and all, but more than anything, it’s about knowing the right people. You are walking into a world of connections, many of which go back multiple generations. I would say don’t worry too much about the societies. If you are the right fit, they will come and find you.”
    The next few days of freshman orientation slipped by, and before I knew it, the first day of class was upon us. I visited the bookstore and realized immediately that I could not afford any of the books. In fact, I could barely afford to buy a few binders and pens. Thankfully, Charles and I had a nearly identical class schedule, so I fully intended to borrow his books. Most likely, he would not be opening them on his own. With each passing day, I realized more and more just how little Charles was interested in his studies. He was here on the sheer merit of his family name and their large financial contributions to the school.

CHAPTER 9
    A Working Man
    I HAD TAKEN IT UPON myself to seek a job on campus and managed to secure a part-time position at the library. The work was minimal, allowing me plenty of quiet time to study between my dull tasks of checking out and re-shelving books. The library was perhaps the most remarkable building on campus. It was four stories overflowing with books of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The words of authors from across centuries and continents were carefully bound and catalogued for all to read. I had never seen so many books in all my life, row upon row of books, many of which were so old and dusty that it was obvious nobody had checked them out in years. The top floor had large windows looking out over the campus and featured busts and carvings of famous people. Old, cracked leather couches sat against the walls with long tables alongside for studying. There was a giant globe of the world surrounded by atlases and other collections of maps. Down one floor, there were more private study rooms and, of course, more books. The first floor had a grand central room boasting marble columns and a black and white checkered floor that made you think you were walking across a giant chessboard. The checkout desk was tucked away in a far corner, obviously to avoid detracting from the overall look of the room. To get to the bottom floor, one had to walk down a spiraling black steel staircase as if descending into a submarine. There in the dim lighting, shelves were spread out in all directions. The basement was larger than a football field. With its heavy green carpet under foot, one