Chapter 10: Four Hundred a Paper

Brock climbed the last steps slowly, with his coffee in one hand and his eyes on Mattias's fingers in Linus's hair.

"Well," he said. "Look at that."

Mattias took his hand away.

He did not step back, and Linus was surprised and proud of him for it.

"Mind your business, Coyle."

"You are my business." Brock sipped his coffee. "Four papers, four hundred a piece. And you've been very quiet about the new one."

"I'll pay you for it."

"I don't want your money. I want you on my line, and I want you to keep ordering."

Brock's smile stayed warm.

"I hear the little tutor is moving in on my best customer. A man who learns to read doesn't buy."

Linus stepped forward.

"He doesn't need your essays."

"Doesn't he?"

Brock looked him up and down.

"Cut him loose by next Friday, Pehrson. Or the Dean gets an email about who wrote your papers. Your dad's going to love that one."

He went down the stairs whistling.

The door below banged.

For a long while neither of them spoke.

"I'm sorry," Mattias said at last.

"For what?"

"You shouldn't have heard that."

"I'm glad I heard it." Linus pushed his glasses up his nose. "Come on. We have a week."

"For what?"

"To write your midterm."

Mattias stared at him.

"It's due next Friday," he said. "I have Brock's. I just hand it in."

"No, you don't," Linus said.

"Maki."

"If you hand in that paper, Brock owns you."

Linus counted it out on his fingers.

"If you hand in nothing, you fail and you're withdrawn in December. So we write a real one."

"I can't write," Mattias said.

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