Disclaimer: The only part of Castle that I own is the TV on which I used to watch the show.

A/N A lot of readers have asked if I'd return to the Eliot world, and I finally am. I missed that little boy! Next time I won't stay away so long.

I got called into the principal's office today. Well, really I got called in yesterday that I have to go in today. It was making me very nervous and I stayed up a little bit late last night talking to Scrapple about it.

"They said I didn't do anything wrong, Scrap, but I always thought you only got called in to see the principal if you did something really terrible."

"You mean like stealing someone's lunch?"

"No, I think more like beating someone up or cheating."

"You never beat anyone up and you're the smartest kid in the school, so you don't need to cheat."

"And cheating is dishonest."

"Right."

"You remember that mean kid Christopher at day camp last summer? The one who called me a freak and said I should be in a freak show?"

"Yeah. I wanted to hop on the bus and bite him on the leg."

"Thank you, but you would have gotten in the worst trouble. I wanted to beat Christopher up, but he's two years older than I am and a lot bigger. And besides, Granddad said it's good to kill people like that with kindness instead, which I did."

"So why do you think you have to go see the principal?"

"I don't know."

"Did you ask Mom and Dad?"

"I didn't want to bother them since Hannah and Ivy just came home four days ago and it's pretty nutty around here."

"I don't think you should worry about it, Eliot. If it was something bad, Mom and Dad would have told you."

"Thanks, Scrapple. You always make me feel better."

"You're my boy. That's my job."

I curled up on my side, which is my favorite way to sleep, and Scrapple scooted up behind me and rested his head on my shoulder. He does that when he knows that I'm sad or mad or confused about something and it helps. Sometimes I can feel his nose on the side of my neck.

"It was kind of hard to concentrate today because I kept thinking about what was going to happen in the principal's office. The appointment was at 5:00 when everybody would be gone from school. Sarah our babysitter picked up Abby and Otis at the regular time and I got to stay in the library and do homework. Ms. Adamson the librarian who is the nicest person in the whole school was there. She said she had paperwork to catch up on but I think she was really just being extra nice and keeping me company and making sure I wasn't alone.

Just before 5:00 Mom and Dad came to get me and we went upstairs to see Ms. Rothman, the principal. I held their hands the whole way. When we walked in I was surprised because there was a table with a coffee pot and mugs and a glass of milk and a whole plate of cookies. I sneaked a look at Dad and he gave me his secret expression that means WOW!

"Your mother told me that Oreos are your favorite, Eliot," the principal said. "I hope she won't think that I'm spoiling your dinner, but you've had a long day at school and I figured that you might like a snack."

"Thank you. I always get one at home in the afternoon but I missed it today."

She asked us all to sit down, so we did. She has a really nice sofa in her office plus comfy chairs. I was glad that she wasn't at her desk which can make her look a little bit scary even though she isn't.

"Eliot, I've discussed this with your parents already, but they want you to be included, which is why we're all here this afternoon. I hope that you'll be excited about my idea for you."

I looked at Mom and Dad and they smiled at me. Mom squeezed my hand, too. Not the hand with the cookie in it, the other one. "Okay."

"The school year will be over soon, and you'll be having summer vacation, and that's why I wanted us to talk about this now. In September you'll be in third grade, but I'm afraid that we've run out of math classes for you, and we're almost out of science, too."

"Do you mean I have to repeat them?"

She smiled at me, too. "No, no, just the opposite. You're a straight-A student, even in your twelfth-grade classes. We very much want you to stay here as long as possible, but we–and by we I mean your mother and father, as well as your teachers and me–don't want you to be bored, and we certainly don't want you not to be challenged academically. So what we've done is look into the possibility of your taking classes at college, and the good news is that it's definitely doable."

"COLLEGE?" I'm writing that in big, fat capital letters to show you how scared that made me. "I don't want to go to college yet." I was afraid I would start bawling right there. I must have looked overwhelmed, which is a word I learned day before yesterday from Gram. She said it means "when everything is just too much, darling." And I said, "You mean like when the baby twins are crying at the same time that the big twins and fighting and Scrapple is barking because I dropped a whole bottle of milk on the floor?" And she said, "Bingo!" Anyway, I must have looked overwhelmed by what the principal said because Mom put her arm around my shoulder and hugged me. "Please don't make me go away to college, Mom."

"Oh, sweet pea. We'd never, ever make you do that. What Ms. Rothman means is that starting in the fall you could take a class or two at college right here in the city–at NYU or at Columbia–at the same time as you're here at Marlowe for your other subjects."

"And sports?"

"And sports."

"College classes don't even meet every day," Dad said. "Usually just three times a week. We'd work it out so that you'd go to your science or math class either early in the morning or in the afternoon after you're through here."

"Or even during your regular school day," Mom said. "Since you'd have a couple of free periods."

That was a big relief, but I was still getting a stomach ache about something. "How would I get there? I'd have to walk to the Prince Street subway station and take the R train to NYU or the R to Times Square and change to the one train for Columbia and I'm not allowed to do that by myself. And I'd be scared."

Ms. Rothman looked surprised. "You know how to get to both those places from home?"

"Sure. Subways are one of my hobbies. Did you know there are ghost subway stations? I don't think that there are actual ghosts, but there could be. They're abandoned stations and some of them still exist. The coolest is the City Hall one. Dad and I saw it from the six train. You have to stay on all the way down to the end of the line and then when the train goes back uptown you have to be at the window and look really, really fast and you see can part of the ghost station."

"That sounds wonderful."

"It is. Did you know that there are more than 840 miles of subway track? That's almost as much as driving two round trips to Boston from here, which I wouldn't want to do because of the Red Sox. Ugh." Then I thought uh oh, what if I hurt her feelings? "Excuse me if you're from Boston, Ms. Rothman."

She laughed. I never heard her really laugh before, but she did it with her whole head. She has very curly hair and when she laughed hard her hair was bouncing like it was on springs in a cartoon. I loved it. It made me want to clap, but I didn't. "No, I'm a born and bred New Yorker, just like you. And a Yankee fan."

"You can take the D train to Yankee Stadium! Or the four."

Dad ruffled my hair, which he does when he wants to get my attention. "Much as I always love to hear you talk about the subway, Eliot, it's getting late and we don't want to take up too much of Ms. Rothman's time. Here's the thing. If you decide you'd like to enroll in a class at NYU or Columbia in the fall, you and I would take the subway together, since Mom has to be at the precinct. Sarah can manage Abby and Otis and and Julia will be taking care of Hannah and Ivy. I'd bring my laptop along so I could write while you're in class figuring out the mysteries of the universe."

"And guess what?" Mom said. "We already asked if Scrapple could go with you and Dad, and both colleges said yes."

"You don't have to make up your mind right this minute," Dad said. "Not even this week or this month. But if you're interested we could look at the catalogues and see if there are courses you like. How does that sound?"

I wanted to think about it, so I took apart an Oreo the way Dad taught me when I was three and I licked the little bits of frosting that were sticking to the top half of the cookie part and then ate that. Then I licked all the frosting from the other half before I chewed up the bottom cookie. "You mean like linear algebra, Dad? Or quantum mechanics?"

"Quantum mechanics for sure. I don't know anything about linear algebra, but I bet Ms. Rothman does."

She nodded. "Yes, there are classes in that, too."

So I told them I thought it was a pretty good idea and Mom and Dad and I said good night to Ms. Rothman. On the way home I said, "I have a question."

"I bet you have a lot of questions," Mom said. "Ask away."

"I hope you won't think it's dumb."

"There's no such thing as a dumb question from you."

"Well, if I go to Columbia or NYU for a class, would it be okay if I don't wear my school uniform there? I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb."

She laughed.

"Was that a funny question, Mom?"

"Not funny, just sweet. And the answer is, you wouldn't have to wear your school uniform there. I promise."

"It sounds like you're considering this," he said.

"I am. And you know what's cool?"

"I dunno. Maybe linear algebra?"

"Yeah, but that's not what I was thinking of. What I was thinking is how cool it would be that while I'm figuring out the mysteries of the universe–that's what you said, right?"

"Yup, that's exactly what I said."

"While I'm figuring out the mysteries of the universe, you're writing mysteries. And when people read them they try to figure out the mysteries. That would be another coincidence for our family."

"That it would."

"Maybe you should write a book about coincidences, Dad."

"Maybe we should write it together."

"That, gentlemen," Mom said, "is a magical idea."

When we got to the loft Otis came running to the front door. "Are you in trouble, Eliot? I bet you are."

"No, I'm not."

"But you had to go to the principal's office. I heard someone say. And Mom and Dad went, too. You must have done something really, really bad."

"Eliot didn't do anything bad, Elevator Boy." That's what Mom calls Otis sometimes for fun. Not just because he was born in an elevator but because the guy who invented the safety elevator was named Elisha Otis. Let me tell you, you do not want to ride in any kind of an elevator but a safety one. His invention keeps the elevator from crashing into the basement which is a huge deal, especially if you are in the Empire State Building. "We were all just talking with Ms. Rothman about some science and math classes for Eliot next year."

Otis rolled his eyes, which he totally inherited from Mom. "Okay." He made that word last about ten seconds. I think he might be an actor like Gram when he grows up.

That was three days ago. Since then we got some catalogues from NYU and Columbia and read them. There are so many courses! You could go there for a hundred years and not take all of them. Today is Sunday and Docky came over in the afternoon and we went online so he could explain about different science classes. Not just what I might take soon but later on if I go to medical school like he did. That is a long way away but I like hearing about them.

Docky and I took Scrapple out for a walk. "Thank you for helping me with the science classes. I like a lot of the other things, too."

"I'm not surprised. You're curious about all sorts of things."

"What if I learned Sanskrit, like you? I never heard of it until you showed me in the catalogue. I like that almost no one speaks it anymore. I could be a spy and talk Sanskrit to another spy and no one would know what we were doing."

"Maybe I could learn Sanskrit and be your spy dog."

"You wouldn't have to. You and Docky and I already speak dog and no one else does. We could be spies in that and Sanskrit."

"Maybe Docky could teach me some words."

"I'd be delighted, Scrapple."

"How do you say 'suspicious'? That seems like an important spy word."

"Hmm. Might take me a minute to remember."

While he was thinking Scrapple barked at a bunch of pigeons that were eating a chunk of pizza that someone dropped on the sidewalk.

"I've got it," Docky said. "Suspicious is shabdkosh."

"I like that."

"Me, too."

By then we were back at our building and it was time for supper, which was two kinds of lasagne by Dad. Hannah and Ivy came to the table for the first time, in their little cradle bouncers. They're still really tiny and they can't have lasagne yet, just milk by Mom, but they looked pretty cute there. Abby and Otis mostly ignored them. When I told Gram the other day that I thought they were a little jealous of the babies, she said, "Their noses are out of joint. They'll get over it." I was confused because noses don't have joints, they're not like hands or knees. I said their noses looked the same as always and she explained that it was just an expression for someone being jealous. I wonder how you say someone's nose is out of joint in Sanskrit. I'll ask Docky when other people aren't around, since we might save Sanskrit for spy talk.

Later on when I was in my PJs and had brushed my teeth Mom and Dad came in to say goodnight. "You know how I asked if I could not wear my school uniform at college?"

"Yes," she said. "We told you that you wouldn't have to."

"It got me thinking. You know how college kids wear tee shirts and baseball caps and stuff with the school name on them?"

"Sure," he said. "Alexis wore that Columbia sweatshirt practically every day her freshman year."

"I remember that boy we saw at the planetarium who had the University of Prague one. Mom said she bet he didn't go there. When I asked her why she said because his shirt said University of P-R-A-G-E which is not how you spell Prague. That was so funny. Anyway, I was thinking. When I was looking at stuff online with Docky I saw that there are hoodies for dogs that say NYU or Columbia on them. Would it be all right if we got one for Scrapple?"

"I think he'd look very handsome," she said.

"Good. Because I pretty much made up my mind that I want to take those classes, and if he had a hoody to wear he wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb either."

Then they both kissed me goodnight and Mom whispered in my ear, "Scrapple is a lucky dog to have you."

"I'm lucky, too."

"I think we all are."

TBC