I heard about the boys playing cards all night. You would think something exciting was going on, but all they did was throw cards around. There was no intelligent conversation possible when all you did was look at your cards. Why did they do it?

We looked at each other. I must have looked pretty sad after a miserable evening. I sensed that he was aware of how lonely I’d been, but somehow I didn’t mind his knowing.

That's what's so confusing, because she was so smart she skipped a grade, and is praised for having all As. She could have made the cut, but it's never explained why specifically Boston College.

Friday nights, the kids would ‘hang‘ around, meaning drift up and down the dormitory hall talking and joking with anybody there.

I could have walked out in an instant but hung around a moment for effect. I looked at each person with an air of confidence. I looked like I had the situation well under control and they’d better listen to the Prez. Then I walked out.

“We will say nothing about this to anybody, not to each other, not to our wives, not to our dogs. This situation does not exist, nor will it ever exist. That’s all.”

The cop took the phone and was read the riot act. “Yes, sir….” “Yes, sir….” “No, sir….” “I understand, sir….” “I wouldn’t want that either, sir….”

Then the watcher told me, “The Director is calling the President of the United States.”
Did I have everybody’s attention now? You bet!

Googling it, it's just a white board. Where does the grease come in?

(comment) It's crazy enough as it is, but why didn't she get a scholarship to Harvard or Yale or something, and not Boston College to study math?

“You seem to be a very interesting young lady, Miss Sullivan.  The Holy Father himself paid for your scholarship.”
“Did he say why?”
“No.  It’s a big secret.”

No idea, I'm just imagining a board with grease dripping off it.

(comment) "Upperclassmen"? Is that even a word people use anymore? Also shouldn't be nine "police officers" or something?

There were nine police there, two twenty-something guys who looked like upperclassmen, and a priest in his sixties. The senior cop painted the picture.

We arrived at the campus police office. I was led to a conference room, nothing but a room with a long table and chairs and a grease board.

It was a campus cop. “Yes?”
“We have a problem. Can you come to our office?”
“I don’t know where it is. I’ll follow you.”

Nothing else bad happened to me in high school besides the social media bozos’ hatred.

So I thought a lot about who I was and who I wanted to become. This assured I would get there.So I thought a lot about who I was and who I wanted to become. This assured I would get there.

Her dad was in the Navy and she goes on a long tangent about what he thought of "The Caine Mutiny" book vs. movie. Her mom gets even less of a description, she's literally just a stick figure with the word "Mom". She did have some kind of mental breakdown, but we only heard about it briefly.

(comment) It's so odd to say "I'd have to write a book" when you're in fact writing a book. Just give us one chapter about Theresa's parents where they interact with her. Also I recoil at "I wanted a husband like dad"... I love my dad but I mean come on.

Even with Steve, she just comes back to the first night when Steve was so horny over her skimpy outfit. Her wedding is all about how good she looked. I would feel really bad for Norman if he wasn't such an asshole.

My parents gave a good example of the kind of people to be. I’d have to write a book about them to explain. It’s enough to say I wanted to be a woman like mom and I wanted a husband like dad. That says it all, don’t you think?

Every time Norman is supposed to write something moving or emotional, he just says "you would have to write a whole library about this, but suffice it to say my parents were good people."

I really wonder if he has ever had a sincere friendship. Is he even capable of it?

Boston College isn’t a small college and it’s not in Boston. It’s a large university in Newton, Massachusetts six miles from Boston.

(comment) Norman deeply hates most people, and it comes out in passages like this.

It was like some of my fellow Seniors. Twelve years of education hadn’t taught them a thing about human nature. They labeled people. They were suspicious. They bullied or were obnoxious in some way. They were not worth much to themselves or anybody else.

Instead of shutting Jan up, why didn’t he send her to talk to me? If she told me the President was worried I’d agree to meet with him somewhere. What was there in my history that made him think I couldn’t be trusted?

(comment) It's embarrassing that this actually describes Norman himself.