Read A Secret Rage for Free Online

‘Well . . . thanks a lot.’ Come on, Nick, manners. ‘I’m Nickie Callahan. You probably just processed my transcript.’
    ‘Oh. Mimi Houghton’s friend.’
    Distinct lack of enthusiasm. Having an influential friend is not always a plus.
    Theo Cochran stirred himself, probably remembering that influence. ‘We’re glad to have you with us here at Houghton, Miss Callahan.’
    ‘Thank you,’ I said again. ‘I’m sure I’ll be in and out of your office in the next week or so.’
    ‘So will the entire student body. The first week is always hell,’ the registrar said more pleasantly. He seemed to look forward to hurling himself into the fray. ‘Goodbye, now.’
    ‘Goodbye.’ I started climbing the stairs, my heels clattering. I resolved to remember to wear rubber-soled shoes to classes in this building.
    I looked down the stairwell and saw the bare tonsure of the registrar moving away down the hall into the darkness. His progress was relatively silent. He must have made the same resolution.
    It was impossible for me to blunder any more, since room 206 was just a few feet to the right at the head of the stairs. I checked my watch again. On the dot. I twitched my skirt and gathered myself in general.
    ‘Come in,’ called a midwestern voice after I knocked.
    ‘I’m Barbara Tucker,’ said a slim auburn-haired woman as she rose from behind a desk covered with every imaginable form of printed material: books, notebooks, forms, memoranda, catalogues. I blinked. The office seemed dazzling with light after the cavern below.
    ‘Nickie Callahan,’ I said too heartily. I shook Barbara Tucker’s hand and took the only scarred wooden chair that wasn’t overflowing with books and papers.
    The woman sat down, pushed her glasses up on her slight nose, and smiled at me. Her features were plain, but her skin was beautiful. I decided I liked her on the spot. I liked her smile, I liked the books stacked everywhere, I liked the plants that flourished in the two slitlike windows. I beamed back at Barbara Tucker in approval. There are some women who dislike and distrust me at first sight, on principle. She was not going to be one of them.
    ‘So, you decided to leap back into the academic battle, Miss Callahan.’
    ‘Call me Nickie. I decided it would be a good idea to finish, and the time was right.’
    ‘Good decision. I remember Mimi told me you were a model, but I think I would have figured that out anyway.’
    I had to make it clear I was not a dilettante. ‘I used to be a model,’ I said carefully. ‘Now, I hope, I’m an English major.’
    ‘Okay, we’ll start you on the road to a degree today,’ Barbara Tucker said briskly. She pulled my file from a crammed metal tray. ‘What’s your goal? Do you want to teach?’
    I took a deep breath and plunged. ‘No, I’m going to be a writer,’ I said, and couldn’t stop myself from making a deprecating face.
    Barbara brushed back her bangs and looked thoughtful. She didn’t ask me how I planned to eat and pay the rent on a writer’s erratic earnings; and she didn’t laugh. She did smile again, suddenly. ‘You’ll be the Don Quixote of the English department,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you started.’
    For forty-five minutes we went over the hours I’d accumulated at my first college and made out a list of courses I wanted and courses I was required to take as an English major – certainly not a synonymous list. Finally we hammered out a schedule I thought I just might be able to handle.
    But I kept reminding myself I’d been over six years away from the academic routine. As Barbara signed forms, I blew out a sigh of relief and apprehension.
    ‘You’re certainly going to be an interesting addition to the student body,’ Barbara commented cheerfully.
    ‘Does Houghton have many older students?’ I asked.
    ‘Not that many, but you’ll have some company, don’t worry. And the older students we do have almost always make higher grades than the average-age