Assumptions by C.E. Pietrowiak Page B

than Deirdre. She dragged him
back to the table. “Will and Jordyn, this is my dear friend,
Oisin.”
    He shifted his weight from one foot to the
other. “Hello.” The palest of freckles dotted his face.
    “Hi,” said Will.
    Deirdre offered Oisin a seat. “Join us?”
    "No, sorry. I have to go out again. Busy
today,” his brogue rich and warm.
    Deirdre frowned. “Oh, too bad. Another time,
then?”
    “Another time. Nice to meet you.” Oisin's
eyes lingered on Jordyn, still smiling involuntarily. She turned to
watch him leave through the back of the room.
    Will raised an eyebrow at Deirdre. He reached
across the table to touch Jordyn’s arm.
    Jordyn turned around. "Huh? Sorry. Did you
say something?"
    "Deirdre was just telling me there's going to
be a ceili the week before Thanksgiving."
    "A what?" Jordyn tried to catch up.
    Deirdre laughed. "A ceili. Think of it as a
big Irish dance party. You and Will should come.” She picked up her
cup. “Drink your tea. It'll be getting cold by now."
    After tea, Will walked Jordyn to the el
station. “You’re still smiling,” he said.
    “What? I am not. Am I?”
    “You are.”
    “Well, that was nicer than I thought. The
tea, I mean.”
    “It was.”
    Will opened the door to the station beneath
the tracks. Not far away, the train clattered.
    “Better get up there. They don’t run very
often on weekends,” said Will.
    “See you at school, Emerson.” Jordyn pushed
through the turnstile and sprinted up the stairs.
    Will headed for home. When he reached the
door, the mail carrier was just leaving. “Couple of letters for
your dad today, Will,” she said.
    “Thanks. You’re early.”
    “Little bit. See you Monday. You have a nice
day now," she called out, already halfway to the next address.
    Will took the letters upstairs. He laid them
on the credenza with the rest of the unopened mail. The apartment
was quiet. He went to his room, flicked the light switch, and
picked up Pritchard's book. He flipped to the back and removed the
file. Thumbing the corner, he walked it to the kitchen and placed
it on top of the stack.
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE SAPPHIRE BOOK
     
    Wednesday morning. Will walked into geography
just before the last bell. At the front of the room, Logan and Alex
compared notes. Jilly tapped the chewed end of a pen on her desk.
Will took his seat unnoticed. Jordyn had her head buried in a book.
He leaned toward her. "He didn't show again?"
    "Nope." She looked up and nodded toward
Logan. "Half of them didn't even get here early."
    The rest of the day passed uneventfully.
After school, Will met the mail carrier at the door. She handed him
one letter wrapped in an ad from the local carpet cleaner. He
dumped the ad in the recycle bin below the mailboxes and carried
the letter upstairs. The pile of mail on the credenza was beginning
to overflow the edges. Will took a handful to the kitchen table. He
dropped his backpack near the back door and sat down to sort the
pieces by urgency. The ad for satellite television and a renewal
notice for Biblical Archeologist went to the bottom, the
letter from National Risk to the top. Utility bills were opened and
stacked by due date, leaving for last a well-sealed manila
envelope. Will picked at the edge of the packing tape, bits of it
broke off under his nails. He took the package to the study. His
father kept scissors in the side table.
    Will sat in one of the armchairs. He opened
the scissors wide and, with one blade, slit the tape at the top of
the envelope. He turned the package open side down and shook. A
small leather-bound book landed face down in his hand. He tossed
the envelope onto the top of the already full trash can. The book,
heavy for its size, fit comfortably in his palm. Dust had settled
in the stitching and folds of the binding. Will tightened his
fingers around the edges. Something cold and sharp pressed against
his skin. He turned it over.
    The book was held closed by a metal clasp
decorated with