That didn’t explain why I’d snuck a couple of Giana’s books out under my shirt when I’d popped by to bring her dinner in the middle of the week. She’d quickly kicked me out since she was studying for a test. But I took those books and did a little studying of my own. I memorized what pages she’d dog-eared, or highlighted, which ones had the distinct oil from her fingertips being on them more frequently than others. And what I found surprised me. I was eager to test the theories I’d come up with the next time we were alone, and to tease her a little — which was quickly becoming my favorite
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