by Julia Nobel
Emmy’s smile faded. Her mom probably wouldn’t like her going to a soccer match. “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of homework.”
“Who cares about homework when we’re playing Saint Mary’s?” Lola asked. “They beat us for the East Anglian Championships last year—we’ve been waiting to play them for six months!”
Emmy tugged on her ear. Her mother hadn’t said she couldn’t attend matches. “Well…I guess I could take few hours off from studying.”
The others kept talking about the match, but Emmy wasn’t listening. She drummed her fingers on the table. What her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
• • •
Three days later, Emmy tossed her laundry in a washing machine and looked at her watch. She’d have to hurry if she was going to eat before the match started. She ran upstairs, threw on a sweatshirt, and was almost out the door when she grimaced. There was a lot of homework piled up on her nightstand. She should probably stay in and get some work done. Thanks to Victoria and her irritating friend Arabella, Emmy had hardly gotten anything done all week. They constantly played annoying music, and their nail polish smelled so bad it was like living in the school’s chemistry lab.
As aggravating as Victoria was, Emmy’s research on her dad was even more frustrating. She was getting nowhere. Anytime she had a moment alone, she’d grab the letter and the box and examine every inch of them. If there was a clue to what those medallions were for, or who had sent the letter, she couldn’t figure it out. She didn’t know what to do next.
Emmy looked at the homework pile again. If her mom knew she was going to a soccer match when she had so much work to do…
She squared her shoulders and ran out the door. Her mother wasn’t here, and she’d get to it later.
She ran into the Hall and started piling food onto a plate. The tables nearby were strangely quiet. The talk about the accident had died down by now, but there was always something that kept people buzzing. Usually everyone was talking over each other, but there was a lot of whispering today. She looked up and her mouth fell open. Half the room was staring at her. Her face got hot and she looked down at her toast. How had she screwed up now?
Jack and Lola were sitting near the door, and Emmy made a beeline for them. Lola looked up and choked, spewing her orange juice across the table.
“What the bloody hell are you wearing!?” she spluttered.
Emmy looked down at her clothes. Blue sweatshirt. Jeans. Old sneakers. Wasn’t that good enough for weekends at Wellsworth?
Jack stared at her, a sausage hanging limply from his fork. “You. Cannot. Wear. That. Today.”
Emmy pulled at her sweatshirt and sat down. “I thought we didn’t have to wear our uniforms on weekends.”
“Your uniform would be better than that,” Lola scoffed.
“Why, what—”
“You’re dressed head to toe in blue,” Jack said. “Blue is Saint Mary’s color. You look like you’re supporting them.”
Emmy looked around the Hall. Everyone was wearing Wellsworth’s official colors of green and gray. She started chewing her nails. There were so many unwritten rules at this school, she’d never keep them all straight. “I don’t have anything green or gray left. I threw it all in the laundry, because I’ve been wearing it all week.”
Jack turned around. “Jaya! Emmy needs some emergency Wellsworth kits. Think you can help?”
Jaya looked Emmy up and down and jumped out of her seat. “No time for breakfast, let’s get a move on!”
Twenty minutes later, Emmy was tugging on the cowl of a delicate cashmere sweater. Overflowing sodas and vinegar-soaked fries were being passed all around her in the football stands. Please don’t let me spill on this thing. The sweater was beautiful, but somehow it made her feel even more plain than usual. Cashmere belonged on girls like Jaya: tall, thin, and chic. Emmy had to roll up the cuffs on Jaya’s slacks, which seriously lessened their sophistication.
Finally, she spotted Jack waving at her, and she eased her way toward him and his friends. A sandy-haired boy leaned down from the row behind and gave her a friendly smile. “It’s Emmy, right?”
She nodded.
“I’m Cadel,” he said, “I’m Jack’s roommate.”
Emmy tried to smile. This was one of those times when she was supposed to say something friendly but couldn’t figure out what it was.
“I expect you didn’t see much football in America,” he went on. “Have you ever been to a match before?”
Emmy grinned. “Um, yeah.”
“Well, if you have any questions about how it all works, just ask. I play on the boys’ team, you know. Made it all the way to the East Anglian Finals last year. Now, there are ten players on the field, excluding the keeper, of course, and—” Cadel was interrupted by the roar of the crowd; the teams had taken the pitch.
“Here, have some licorice.” Jack handed her some candy.
“Thanks, but I don’t really like licorice.”
Jack shoved it into her hand anyway. “Doesn’t matter, it’s good luck.”
Emmy ripped a piece off and dutifully chomped on it as the opening whistle blew.
The game was tense from the very first moments. Both teams were as good as any Emmy had played, and they obviously didn’t like each other. The atmosphere in the stands was electric, like the best matches she’d played back home. For the first time since she’d gotten here, something felt familiar: players yelling signals to each other, coaches screaming instructions, the scraping of cleats against grass and rubber. It was like getting a letter from home, one that was bitter and sweet at the same time. She didn’t belong in the stands; she belonged on the field. She should be the one calling out signals. It should be her cleats pounding the turf. When the Wellsworth striker scored in the eightieth minute, Emmy jumped up and down with the rest of the crowd, but she couldn’t help wishing she could do more than cheer.
It took a while for the crowd to file out after the match, which gave Cadel a lot of time to explain the game’s finer points. “You see, that St. Mary’s girl was offside because she was in front of the last defender when her midfielder passed her the ball. Her protest was totally unnecessary. I thought she…”
Somebody bumped into Jack and he grabbed on to Cadel so he wouldn’t fall. Then someone else bumped into Jack, and then a third person. All three boys snickered and kept walking up the stairs like nothing had happened.
“You okay?” Cadel asked.
Jack ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, no big deal.” His voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat.
“What was that about?” Emmy asked.
“Just a few blokes who don’t like me that much.”
Emmy looked at them. Brynn was there—he was the one who’d knocked Jack over—along with a couple other guys she’d seen before.
“I think all those guys are in the Latin Society.”
“Yup. I was in Latin Society as well.”
“Really?” That explained why Jack knew so much about it. “Why’d you leave?”
At first Jack didn’t say anything. “It just wasn’t for me.” He walked quickly up the stairs, Cadel following behind him. Emmy wanted to ask more questions, but she really didn’t know Jack that well. She didn’t want to seem nosy. But she couldn’t help but wonder what made Jack leave Latin Society, and why he couldn’t tell her about it.
CHAPTER 6
The Assignment
“Ugh, why do we have to walk all the way to the bloody library for humanities class today?” Lola asked.
Jack took a deep breath, and Emmy smothered a smile. Lola had been grumbling ever since they left the fine arts building, and it was definitely grating on Jack’s nerves.
“How is it that you’ll run for two hours straight at football practice, but you can’t walk an extra ten minutes without going on a
bout it?” Jack asked.
“That’s just it,” Lola said as they trudged up another flight of stairs. “I ran for two hours last night, and now I’m tired.”
Jack shook his head and stuffed his earbuds into his ears.
“Have you played football for a long time?” Emmy asked.
Lola nodded. “I think my dad bought me a football while my mum was in labor. We go to matches every time I make it back to Glasgow.”
Emmy smiled, but she didn’t feel happy. She’d never know if her dad was a soccer fan.
“Do you play any sports?” Lola asked.
Emmy’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh, I used to.” She didn’t want to explain why her mom wouldn’t let her play. She didn’t understand it herself.
“I could never give it up,” Lola said. “Staring down a keeper, figuring where they’ll move next, hearing the crowd cheer—it just becomes part of you, know what I mean?”
Emmy did know what she meant. It made her chest ache to think about it.
“Plus, I get to bash people about without getting in trouble, which is great.” Lola winked, and Emmy laughed. Lola seemed like she’d be really fun to play with.
They walked past the giant oak doors that led to the Hall and through the narrow passageway that hitched the strange library tower onto the main building. They threw their bags down and sat at the nearest table just as Master Barlowe walked in. He crouched down beside the table and smiled at Emmy.
“I wanted to check in with you before class started. How are you getting on at Wellsworth so far?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“I hear you joined the Latin Society. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think your time might be better spent in one of the humanities disciplines, like the Anglo-Saxon or Shakespeare Societies. Shall I speak to Master Larraby about transferring you?”
“Oh, uh…” Emmy wasn’t a fan of Latin Society, but at least it gave her a quiet place to catch up on work. She didn’t really want to give that up. “Madam Boyd really wanted me in Latin Society, so I think I’d better stick with it.”
Barlowe smiled, but he looked a little disappointed. “All right, well, let me know if you change your mind. Latin Society isn’t for everyone.” He turned away, and Emmy frowned. That was two teachers who had tried to convince her to leave Latin Society.
“All right, let’s get started,” Barlowe said to the class. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’re meeting in the library today.”
Lola muttered something inaudible, and Emmy shook her head. Lola definitely had a hard time keeping her feelings to herself.
“We’ve been talking about the Dissolution of the Monasteries,” Barlowe said. “I trust by now you all know what a critical part it played in British history. Who can tell me one of the reasons why the dissolution was so important?”
The room was quiet. Finally, Natalie raised her hand. “The king made himself the head of the Church of England?”
“Correct,” Barlowe said. “That meant he could take all the church’s property, assets, and artifacts for himself. Many clergy who resisted were executed, and many priceless artifacts were lost or destroyed.
“And that brings us to our assignment,” he went on. “You will get into groups of two or three and research a building that was affected by the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Did the clergy resist? What kinds of artifacts did the building hold? What happened to them? What has happened to that building since? Extra credit will be given to those who put in extra effort, so this isn’t a good assignment to skive off on.”
Everyone started gathering into groups, and Emmy bit her lip. Being the new kid usually meant being the last to get picked.
“So, where do we start?” Jack asked.
Emmy held her breath. Was Jack just talking to Lola, or did he want Emmy to join them?
“The architectural section, obviously,” Lola said. She grabbed her bag and started marching toward one of the long spiral staircases that led to the upper floors. Jack trailed behind her, but Emmy hung back.
Lola started clattering up the staircase and looked over her shoulder. “Aren’t you coming, Emmy?”
Emmy smiled and grabbed her bag. She raced up the iron stairs. “Does your library really have an architecture section?”
“Of course,” Lola said. “Didn’t yours?”
Emmy laughed. “The last school I went to barely even had a library. We just looked everything up online.”
“I bet that’s what most people are doing,” Jack whispered to Emmy, “and they’ll probably be done before we’ve even chosen our building.”
Lola stomped up the stairs. “I heard that!” She led them through the maze of stacks and shelves. The library was massive. Its strange octagon shape made it nearly impossible to navigate, but Lola seemed to know it like the back of her hand. Finally, she stopped in the middle of a row. “Here, medieval architecture.”
“How do you know where everything is in here?” Emmy asked.
Lola scowled, but didn’t say anything.
“After she slugged Brynn in first year she had to do a little ‘community service,’” Jack said.
“I spent three months restocking shelves,” Lola muttered. “I don’t see why Brynn should’ve complained. His nose looks much better since I broke it.”
“Why don’t you guys get along?” Emmy asked.
“Because he’s a prat,” Lola said. “He thinks his side of the family is so much better than ours because they have more money.”
Emmy blinked. She knew there were people who thought having money made you better than other people. After all, she’d gone to elite private schools all over New England, and she’d seen plenty of snobs. But it was jarring to hear Lola say it so matter-of-factly.
Lola pulled an enormous book off the shelf and heaved it onto a nearby table. “Gothic Architecture in Britain—there ought to be something in here.” She flipped the book open and started running her finger over the index. “Westminster Abbey, Canterbury Cathedral, York Minster… I don’t know, they’re all the same to me.”
Emmy sat down in a nearby window seat. “We need something unique, something no one else is doing. I need those extra effort points.” She tapped her fingers against the heavy window pane. The stone passageway was right underneath her, making a bridge to the old Hall, which had stood for so many centuries, with its aging stonework and crumbling statuaries. The Hall… So many centuries…
She jumped out of her seat. “The Hall!”
“What about it?” Jack asked.
“We should do the Hall! It used to be a cathedral, right? I bet it was here before the Dissolution of the Monasteries.”
“I remember reading that it used to be called Blacehol Abbey,” Lola said. “Let’s see if we can find it in one of these books.”
They searched the shelves, pulling off every book they thought might be relevant. After half an hour, Emmy slumped down in her chair and leaned her head against her hand. “Has anyone found anything?”
“Nope,” Lola said. “Seems like there’s something about every church in the country except this one.”
“Maybe it just wasn’t important enough to make it into any books,” Jack said.
Lola shook her head. “But that doesn’t make sense. Abbeys were always important. We read about them last year, remember?”
“Not everyone remembers every page of every book they’ve ever read, Lola.”
“So, what are we going to do?” Emmy asked. “Should we just pick something else?”
“I think the mezzanine has a section with local history books,” Lola said. “It’s a bit of a long shot, but we could try.”
The mezzanine was at the top of a set of rickety steps, and it felt more like an attic than a library. Emmy wrinkled her nose. The air stunk of moldy leather and some kind of toxic dung. “Are there ba
ts up here?”
Lola ignored her and walked to the far side of the loft. “This is the local history section, but I haven’t got a clue if we’ll find anything. Most of these books are so old they don’t even have titles on the covers.”
Emmy ran her fingers along the dusty leather spines. “If they don’t even have titles, how are we supposed to…” She stopped. One of the books had a strange symbol, a symbol she had seen before: a skull with a cross on the right and a dagger on the left.
“I’ve seen this symbol before.” She pulled the book off the shelf. “It’s on a stone outside the Latin Society.”
Jack took the book from Emmy and looked at the spine. “Oh, that just means the book will be in Latin.” He put it back on the shelf. “I don’t think there’s anything up here, we should just choose another church.”
“I’ve never seen that symbol before, and I’ve been taking Latin for years.” Lola said. “Is that a skull?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Emmy grabbed the book and opened the cracked leather cover. “It’s not in Latin, and it’s called Wellsworth School for Boys: An Early History. This is exactly what we need!” She looked at Jack. “Why did you think it would be in Latin?”
He chewed his bottom lip. “I guess I got the symbol mixed up with something else.”
Emmy flipped the pages until she found a table of contents. “Looks like there are three whole chapters about Blacehol Abbey. That should be enough for our report.”
“I could read them,” Jack said, “and tell you guys what they say.”
“No, that’s okay,” Emmy said, “we can each take a chapter.”
“Seriously, I don’t mind, I’ll just—”
“What’s gotten into you?” Lola asked. “Since when do you want to do extra reading?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “I just want to help.”
“We’re supposed to do equal work on group projects,” Emmy said.
“But how are we all supposed to read the book at the same time?”
“Why don’t we just photocopy the first three chapters and we can each take one.”