Like I said, this walkway was only slightly wider than the Virtue, with Galloway Hall on one side and some other building on the other. It wasn’t even suitable for service vehicles, with low, vine-covered archways overhead that I could almost reach sticking my arm out the sunroof. I was starting to feel a bit pissed.

“This is wrong,” I said to Angie.

“Dad, you’re such a Boy Scout, you worry about everything. I’m a student. You cut costs any way you can.”

“What about the ticket you pick up when you enter the grounds? It never gets checked or validated or whatever. You ever hand it in by mistake some other day and you’ll owe hundreds of dollars in parking fees!”

Angie reached over and touched my knee. “Dad, take your medication. And go unhook that chain up there.”

I did as I was told, skulking about like a guilty man, looking over my shoulder for campus security, certain we’d be arrested at any moment. Angie drove through, then I hooked the chain back across and got back into the car.

“You were saying, about Trevor,” Angie said, pulling onto Edwards.

“He had some computer thing he wanted to show you.”

“Any excuse. He’s got some new computer thing every other day. He called me this afternoon, says, guess who? Says it’s Neo, for crying out loud.”

“Neo?”

“Keep up, Dad. The character, in the movie. God. Just promise me, Dad, that you won’t do anything stupid again.”

“You mean, like, with …” I struggled to remember the Pool Boy’s name again.

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I know you’ve been pissed at me for a long time.”

“No kidding.”

“And I’m sorry if you guys broke up over that.”

Angie shrugged. “Well, I’m sort of seeing …” She stopped herself.

“Sort of seeing?”

“Never mind.” She gave me a small smile. “I think, from now on, you only get boyfriend information on a need-to-know basis. And right now, you do not need to know.” She gave the car some gas. “It’s cute, but it seems a bit slow.”

Patiently, I again explained the hybrid concept.

“So, it’s got, like, batteries in it? Like the TV remote?”

“Not those kind of batteries. Big batteries, which are constantly recharging to run the electric motor, which takes over from the gas motor. Look, it’s good for the environment, okay?”

“Maybe we can put our recycling in it,” Angie said.

When we got home, I told her there was a plate of food waiting for her in the kitchen.

“I’m going out,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I’ve got to get ready.” And she disappeared up to her room.

Paul, who’d heard us come in, shouted up from the basement, “Dad! Some Lawrence guy called, said you should call him!”

I did.