Gable Read Online Free Page A

of a movie every Friday, giving it one to ten Bulldog paws in honor of Hallervan’s mascot. The good thing was, I could review any movie I wanted, not just new ones and since I was a huge movie buff, I was excited about this gig.
    I hadn’t seen Gable since the first day of psych class, but I hadn’t really been looking for him, either. No, let me rephrase that. I had been looking for him but only to make sure I avoided him. But I’d seen his friend a few times and had made dang sure not to make eye contact with him.
    I sat in the student center on Thursday eating a hamburger for lunch as I reviewed some notes for French when someone said, “You’re in my poli-sci class.”
    Looking up I saw a guy I didn’t recognize with a tray of food standing there smiling down at me. “I am?”
    He chuckled. “Yeah. You mind?” he asked, nodding at the table.
    “Oh, no, go right ahead,” I said, clearing my books out of his way and hoping he wasn’t a jerk who’d ruin my day.
    He set his tray down then pulled out a chair and once seated, held his hand out to me. “Bodhi Matthews.”
    I shook his hand. “Scout Patterson.”
    “Scout?”
    “Yep.” I was used to people repeating my name since it was unusual but it didn’t bother me at all because I liked my name.
    “Cool.” He took a plate of lasagna off his tray along with a piece of lemon meringue pie and a bottle of water. Once he was settled, he lowered his head in prayer and several seconds later dug in.
    “So, you’re in my class…” I stated having no clue what to say to this guy. He was very tall and slender with curly brown hair and big, blue eyes. The wire-rimmed glasses he wore gave him a somewhat academic, if not nerdy, appearance.
    “Yeah,” he said, chewing on his food. When he swallowed, he added, “You sit two rows in front of me.” He continued scarfing down his food.
    “What year are you?”
    After several seconds of chewing then taking a drink, he answered, “Junior.”
    We sat in silence for several minutes. “So where’re you from, Bodhi?” Maybe he’d get tired of my questions and leave. I mean, he’d initiated things and there were at least twenty other tables open that he could’ve sat at but he’d chosen mine, interrupting my study time.
    “Coeur d’Alene.”
    “Really? I’m from Idaho too. Stone Springs. Small town near Idaho Falls.”
    “Cool.”
    All righty then. Since our conversation wasn’t going very far, I decided to ignore him and continued looking over my French notes.
    “So, you like it here?” he finally asked.
    “Yeah,” I replied, still studying my notes.
    “Wanna hang out sometime?”
    I glanced up at him and frowned. “Well, you’re not the most vociferous person.”
    He laughed. “Sorry. I was just really hungry. I work the graveyard shift stocking at Walmart and went right to class from there, so I didn’t get breakfast.”
    I nodded, giving him a small smile. He was kind of weird, but I always thought weird was interesting. When he finished his lasagna, he started on his pie, which took about five seconds for him to inhale. Then he downed his water and let out a big sigh.
    “Okay, brain’s fully functioning now.” He grinned. “Let’s start over. I’m Bodhi and you’re Scout. What’s with the name?”
    I laughed. “I have the same question about yours. But my mom loved books. To Kill a Mockingbird was one of her favorites.” I shrugged.
    “That’s awesome. Well, I’m Bodhi because my parents are Buddhists.” I raised an eyebrow at him and he snorted. “I know. Tall, gay, white boy who’s a Buddhist.” He shrugged. “My parents were hippies. They almost named me Mohandas Karamchand after Ghandi. Thank God, they went for Bodhi. My sister is Dharma Nirvana. She’s a junior in high school back home. She and I were both glad Mom and Dad stopped having kids after us. Our next little brother or sister was gonna be named Sanskrit.”
    I couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re a funny