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class.” Possibility of sitting with friends: medium.
     
    “Sounds good,” I said. “Remember to bring your apps.”
    After we’d said our good-byes, I unearthed my applications from my pile of start-of-term paperwork and attempted to make it look as if I’d been doing serious work on them for the last few weeks. I made little headway, however, as my brain’s computing power was focused on Josh and Lydia and what they’d been saying about me. Naturally, it’s far worse to hear unpleasant things about yourself from people you know love you, because they aren’t saying it to be mean, nor are they prejudiced against your shimmering personality. No, your friends are telling the truth that you know deep down anyway—and my friends were saying I sucked at romance. To the point that they wouldn’t even try to set me up on a date. Wouldn’t risk subjecting their other friends to the horror that is me.
    Cheer up, Amy. It’s not like this is anything new. I am well aware of my limitations when it comes to forming healthy relationships with the opposite sex. It’s why I’d tried to keep Brandon at arm’s length to start with. I knew getting involved with him would wreck our friendship, and it had. Last year at this time, he’d been buying me dinners at Thai restaurants. This year, I was braving my way through a cafeteria lunch where he had home-court advantage.
    And I wouldn’t even have the comfort of my favorite pair of sneakers.
    Later, when I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I noticed that Lydia and Josh were nowhere to be seen, and later still when I tucked myself into my narrow, extra-long single dorm bed, I heard them whispering softly through our shared wall.
    Had things gone differently, would it be Brandon and me whispering late into the night? Would we still be together if I hadn’t accepted the tap from Rose & Grave? Would I be planning a career in publishing instead of looking at graduate fellowships? Would we be booking flights to Barcelona for an extended double date with Lydia and Josh?
    Stupid to play what if games! I loved being a Digger. I loved my brothers, and the tomb, and the activities. I loved our tricks, and our raids, and our silly society games. I loved everything I’d learned about myself as a result of joining Rose & Grave.
    But right then, one room away, there were people in love, and I’d never felt so alone in my life.

 

 

    3.
    Conspiracy
----
     
    Since my morning lecture in the English department building ended at eleven-thirty, I had the dubious pleasure of cooling my heels in the Rose & Grave tomb for half an hour before I was due to meet Brandon around the corner at Calvin College. I spent the time whipping myself into a frenzy of nerves and second-guessing my choice of outfit—which, Josh would be pleased to know, did not include my yellow sneakers. I fully admit that I’d dressed with more care than usual this morning, and even blow-dried my hair to give it extra body and shine.
    After all, when one hangs out with one’s ex, it’s important to look as stunning as possible.
    I wonder if boys even notice the machinations we go through on their behalf? Are they aware of the subtle but significant difference between your everyday jeans and your very best pair, the fact that this particular color scarf makes your eyes look green, or the light layer of mascara designed to enhance the entire ocular region? Back when Brandon and I were an item, he’d been known to tackle me on occasions where I was wearing sweatpants and fluffy socks, so my guess is that he doesn’t care at all.
    Bummer.
    I repeatedly checked my watch, the face of the grandfather clock in the Grand Library, and the digital readout on the room’s single computer screen, until they all agreed that it was time for me to head out. Exiting the Diggers’ tomb mid-day is a somewhat delicate operation, but in my tenure as a member, I’d figured out the trick of it, and managed to escape the property