From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Devon University is an American private research university located in the New England town of Havenport. With an admissions rate of 83 percent, it is considered one of the most elite universities in America.
Motto: Una Crescimus (Latin, "Together We Grow")
Established: Sometime between Facebook and Snapchat
President: Milton Strauss
Colors: Red and black
Nickname: Ass Monkeys
"D'Arcy!" Milton cried from his office. "They've been messing with our Wikipedia page again!"
D'Arcy appeared at his door almost before the words came out. "On it."
It was a constant struggle to stay ahead of the pranksters. She logged on to Wikipedia and made the necessary corrections, starting with the admissions rate. She typed in 5.2 percent, only slightly higher than Harvard's. Then she fixed the rest Established: 1704. Endowment: $28 billion. Nickname: The Devils.
. D'Arcy chuckled at that one. Last time it was the Butt Munchers.
BLUE NATION COFFEE
SCHOOL YEARS HAD a dependable rhythm, one Eph always found comforting. This was his favorite time, September—the anticipation, the excitement of reconnecting after summer break. Official move-in day wasn't until tomorrow, but many students had come early for orientations or team practices, so the sidewalk was busy. Walking down Ellsworth, a commercial street that ran along one edge of campus, he saw eagerness painted on the passing faces. He had little doubt his own face looked just the same.
Blue Nation Coffee was a favorite hangout for both students and faculty. It had the usual coffeehouse design elements—menu boards of colorful chalk and bare Edison lightbulbs hanging from high ceilings of antique tin tile. Today the place was a white-noise cocktail of chattering students, soft modern jazz, and grinding Fair Trade coffee beans. After waiting through the line, Eph sat at a communal farm table with two lemongrass kombuchas, one for D'Arcy. He ran his hand along the distressed wood. It had a reassuring solidness. A small, tented sign said the wood had been reclaimed from a barn in the Berkshires. That was pleasing somehow.
Propping open his brushed-aluminum MacBook Air, Eph took the comforting aroma of coffee deep into his lungs. He longed for the caffeine, but D'Arcy kept pestering him about probiotics, whatever those were.
Someone pierced the coffeehouse calm, barking shrilly into a cell phone. It was a spandex-clad woman at the head of the line. Eph recognized her from around campus, but didn't know her. The cashier stood there sheepishly waiting for the order, but the woman—evidently someone of authority—was busy tearing someone a new asshole while at least ten people waited in line behind her. This went on for some time, with no one quite sure what to do. Eph knew they would do nothing. The woman was African-American, and in a university town allowances were made for cultural differences. A polite silence was observed until the woman hung up her phone and placed her order as if nothing had happened.