There was nothing on “H-To-L” for me, or for Gabrielle, or Georgia. Nobody was around so I sat down on the Senior Bench and rested my feet.
I jumped when I heard someone behind me, but it was only Gabrielle. She’s a freshman, too, and anyhow she wouldn’t tell. But I didn’t sit down again-our senior committee thinks up fantastic punishments for ignoring their sacred privileges.
A good thing I didn’t-Georgia came out Of the office then. But she did not notice me; -she went straight — to “H-To-L” and unpinned a note. I thought: Maureen, your memory is slipping; there was nothing for her a minute ago.
Georgia turned and saw me. She flushed and said, “What are you staring at?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t think there was a note for you-I just looked at the board.”
She started to flare up, then she put on a catty smile. “Want to read it?”
“Heavens, no!”
“Go ahead!” She shoved it at me. “It’s very interesting.”
Puzzled, I took it. It was -a blank sheet, nothing but creases and thumbtack holes. “Somebody is playing jokes on you,” I said.
“Not on me.”
I turned it over. The address read: “Miss Gabrielle Lamont.”
It finally soaked in that the address should have been “Georgia Lammers.” Or should have been for Georgia to touch it. I said, “This note isn’t yours. You have no right to it~”
“What note?” “This note.”
“I don’t see any note. I see a blank sheet of paper.”
“But — Look, you thought it was a note to Gabrielle. And you took it down anyway.”
Her smile got nastier. “No, I knew it wasn’t a note. That’s the point.”
“Huh?”
She explained and I wanted to scratch her. Poor little Gabrielle had been sending notes to herself, just to get mail when everybody else did-and Georgia had caught on. Both girls had campus jobs which kept them late; Georgia had seen Gabrielle come in late a week earlier, look around, and pin up a note. Being a sneak, she had ducked out to find out to whom Gabrielle was writing — only to find that it was addressed to Gabrielle herself.
Poor Gabby! No wondçr I had never seen her with anyone. There wasn’t anyone.
Georgia licked her lips. “Isn’t it a scream? That snip trying to make us think she’s popular? I should write a real note on this-let her know that -her public isn’t fooled.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Oh, don’t be dull!” She pinned it up, putting the tack back in-the same holes. “I’ll let the joke ride until I think of something good.”
I grabbed her arm~ “Don’t you touch her notes again or I’ll — ”
She shook me off. “You’ll what? Tell her that yOu know her notes are phony? I can just see you!”
“I’ll tell the Dean, that’s what! I’ll tell the Dean you’ve been opening Gabrielle’s notes.”
“Oh, yes? You looked at it, too.”
“But you handed it to me!”
“Did I? My word against yours, sweetie pie.”
“B~it — ”
“And if you talk, the whole campus will know about Gabrielle’s fake notes. Think it over.” She marched off.
I was so quiet on the way -home that Daddy said, “Smatter, Puddin’? Flunk a quiz?”
I assured him -that my academic status was satisfactory. “Then why the mourning?”
Before Daddy let me register he had warned me that the First Law of the Jungle for a professor’s child was not to be a pipeline to the faculty. “But, Daddy, you’re a professor.”
“Student stuff, eh? Better sweat it out alone. Good. luck.”
I did not tell Mother either, because with MOther free speech is not just a theory. I did nothing but worry. Poor Gabrielle! She took her “note” down next morning, looking pleased-and I wanted to cry. Then I saw the smirk on Georgia Lammers’ face and I felt like murder and mayhem. There was another “note” Friday and I wanted to shout to her not to touch it. I didn’t dare. It was like a time bomb, watching Gabrielle’s pitiful makebelieve and knowing that Georgia meant to wreck it as soon as she thought up something nasty enough.