Odd, Ian didn't sound like he was joking.
Corbel & Squinch's Universal Compendium of Everything
by Brat Farrar
"Gabe," Ian said, staring intently at the ceiling. His cousin didn’t respond, more intent on his studies than on the other’s bored ramblings. "Gabe," Ian repeated more forcefully, sitting up from where he lay sprawled on the floor.
"Mm?" Gabe kept writing, refusing to be distracted yet again. He was trying to do his German homework, which was proving difficult enough without Ian’s interference.
"Gabe!" Ian finally yelled, exasperated by Gabe’s lack of an enthusiastic response.
"What?" Gabe snapped, looking up from his books, annoyed at having his concentration broken. Only two sentences remained to be translated, and if Ian would just stop interrupting him, he’d be able to finish.
"Let’s write a compendium." Odd, Ian didn’t sound like he was joking, but that meant little. He was a master of dead pan deliveries.
"Of what, literature and coffee?" Not that either knew much about the latter, except that it had caffeine in it and your hands shook if you drank too much.