Page 64 of And They Were Roommates

He speaks almost like a real doctor, and one with an actually thoughtful bedside manner. When it comes to STRIP, Robby has always been the most professional and reliable. That must seep into every other part of his life too.

Jasper once mentioned that Robby wants to study biochemistry at MIT. Maybe he wants to become an MD.

I put my hands on Robby’s shoulders, and he presses his binder tighter to his chest. “I just had a great idea. What if you did an appointment for me?”

“I-I’m not qualified.”

“What about med school? Med school?” Did I just say that twice?

“I’m not planning to go to med school?”

“But you’re on the biochem track.”

“For veterinary school.”

Right. The trading cards. “Because of the horses?”

Robby lights up. “I love all animals, but especially horses. They’re friends. There aren’t a lot of thoughts in their heads, but they’re nice, and you can share snacks with them like carrots.” His words quicken like I’ve asked what he’s been waiting for someone—anyone—to. “And hay. And Fruit by the Foot.”

I nod slowly, even though I felt like I was borderline tripping on cold medicine a moment ago. There’s something about Robby’s wholesomeness that washes a brief sense of calm over me. Maybe Robby is Rank Two because he’s an MIT hopeful, but there’s no doubt he must also be driven to hit the leaderboard for that unlimited equestrian center perk. “That’s why you have so many cards?”

“Yeah.” With careful movements, Robby opens his binder, revealing the many folders stuffed with his overflowing sparkly horse cards. “I’ve been a collector of Girth and Gallop trading cards since I was six. My parents couldn’t afford to get me a real horse when I was growing up, but they had these for sale under the counter of the garden store my mom visited all the time, so I’d shove them in my pockets before I understood the concept of shoplifting. Half these cards derive from theft.” He closes his eyes. “For shame.”

It’s a lot at once, but I’m still stuck on one part. “You couldn’t afford a horse?”

“My family was sort of struggling until recently.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but my mom went back to school for years to become a nurse anesthetist, and then she started a fund to help me enroll in one of these academies. I’m really thankful for her.”

“Wow,” I say, stunned to relate to anyone else on campus in this way.

“And for STRIP, too, of course,” Robby adds. “They let me talk about the Hackneys here all the time. For me, it’s like a horse club. Plus friends.”

In the distance, Blaze jogs toward us, the overcast sky behind him matching his ominous, destroying aura. His marker-stained dress shoes crunch against the path, and his backpack jostles against his back, the tip of a few letters sticking out.

“Cavalier Captain Robert, Charlie,” he huffs as he approaches. The blazer tied around his neck flutters into his eyes, briefly revealing the number-three pin on his collar. He smacks the blazer away. “What a serendipitous coincidence to spot you yonder. I just now returned from the sister academy to acquire their correspondence.”

“Charlie’s ill,” Robby tells him.

Blaze latches on to Robby’s blazer sleeve. I can barely make out the alarmed look behind his seaweed bangs. “Charlie is a fellow warrior. He cannot fall ill. What if the fated day strikes?”

I’m still so desperate for an answer about my disease that I don’t care about Robby’s lack of professional doctor experience, let alone that I’ve been allowing him to see this much of me up close for several minutes. “You must know at least some medical basics, especially if you want to go into veterinary medicine. I betyou study this stuff in your free time for fun. You’re second on our ranks.”

Robby sighs, which means I’m right. He points beyond the five crisscrossing paths and marble fountain in the Halo, toward the outdoor picnic tables circling Dix. “Fine. Let’s discuss there.”

The three of us walk over, where another familiar face sits. Xavier, pounding down a bowl of rainbow marshmallow cereal with his lucky spoon.

Blaze shrieks and bolts over. He tosses himself over Xavier’s shoulder, which is Blaze’s whole width, and yanks out the spoon. “This lucky relic I bequeathed you is not for feasting. Only for warding off malevolence.”

Xavier’s mouth twists. “Can’t it do both?”

Robby tosses his binder onto the tabletop. It’s so heavy that Xavier’s bowl of cereal leaps into the air. He sits beside Xavier. “Charlie needs help.”

Xavier checks me up and down. “You do look whiter than usual.”

“He’s sick,” Robby says.

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