by Julia Nobel
“No!” Emmy yelled, but it was too late. Nail polish was dribbling down into the textbook, oozing between the pages.
“Oops!” Victoria flipped through the book, making sure each page got a generous dollop of sticky pink polish. “Had a little spill! And if you don’t want me to have an ‘accident’ with any of your other books, I’d suggest you get out of MY room!”
Emmy pressed her lips together, then felt her shoulders slump. It’s not worth it. Just go. Let her win. Again. She reached for the door handle and walked out.
“Bye-bye!” A chorus of giggles rang out, and Emmy started to run. She ran down the stairs and flew out the door, knocking over a couple of first years as she went. She ran and ran, following the trail farther into the forest.
The pines grew thicker here. Their heavy branches bowed into the trail, slapping at Emmy with sharp blue needles. She kept running. The smell of the pines started mingling with something else, something she hadn’t noticed before—salt.
Was Wellsworth near the ocean?
The smell got stronger the farther she ran. The ground felt soft and squishy, with patches of mud here and there. The trees were getting thinner, and soon she reached the forest’s edge.
She’d never seen anything like it. A wide valley of mud stretched out in front of her with two towering cliffs on either side. Layers of red rock were woven together with long bands of bright white that stretched across the cliff face.
“What’s that white stuff?” she muttered to herself.
“Chalk.”
Emmy jumped. Jonas, the man who had picked her up from the airport, was standing a few feet away. He was wearing thigh-high rubber boots and carrying a bucket with a rake resting on his shoulder.
“That white rock inside the cliffs, it’s chalk. Makes for quite a pretty view, even though it’ll all tumble down into the North Sea eventually.”
“It will?”
“Sure. Every day the sea floods this valley, and when the tide goes back out it takes a little more rock with it. One day the sea will steal all of North Norfolk.”
“Really?” Emmy asked.
Jonas chuckled. “In a few thousand years, give or take. So, what brings you out here, young miss?”
Emmy looked down and shrugged. She didn’t want to talk about Victoria, or school, or her birthday. She didn’t want to say that her mother had forgotten it. Again. Or that she had to spend it without a father. Again.
Jonas put down his bucket and started pulling his rake through the sand. After a few tries his rake pulled up a clam, which he picked up and threw in the bucket. “Something got you riled up?”
Emmy shrugged again.
Jonas dropped another clam in his bucket. “You know, I had a bit of a tough time adjusting when I was in my first year. Most people were okay, but there were a few who were just impossible to get on with. I was lucky, though. I had a great roommate. Made all the difference.”
Emmy blinked back tears. “Mine is horrible. I don’t know how I’m going to live with her for the rest of the year. Maybe…maybe I should go home.”
“Maybe,” Jonas said.
Emmy looked up. She hadn’t really expected him to agree with her.
“I guess it all comes down to what got you on that plane in the first place,” Jonas said. “It’s like I said on your first day. You’re the only one who knows if it’s worth it.”
Emmy tucked her hair behind her ear. Her father’s box was still sitting under her bed, right where she had put it on her first day. She’d been so busy, she’d barely had time to think about it, let alone get it out. Besides, if Victoria found out about it, she’d probably trash it, just like her economics textbook.
“I don’t want to give up,” Emmy said, “but I don’t know what to do next.”
Plop. Another clam went into the bucket.
“I couldn’t help but notice you usually sit with the same two people at lunch. One of the Galt boys and Madam Boyd’s daughter, am I right?”
Emmy shook her head. “I don’t sit with Madam Boyd’s daughter.”
“Sure, you do. Black hair, from Glasgow—can’t remember her name.”
Emmy stared at Jonas. “Lola?”
“Lola, that’s it,” Jonas said. “Lola Boyd.”
Emmy couldn’t believe it. Lola was Madam Boyd’s daughter? How could she not have known that?
Jonas threw another clam in the bucket. “Can’t be that easy having your mother as your head of house. And the Galt boy—it’s John, isn’t it?”
“Jack,” Emmy said.
“That’s right, Jack. I don’t think he’s had the easiest time of it, either. Might be worth having a chat with them.”
Emmy looked at the ground. She didn’t usually confide in people.
“It’s hard to find people you can trust,” Jonas said. He threw another clam in the bucket. “Give them a chance, and give Wellsworth a chance, too. I think you’ll be surprised. I bet by the end of the year, Wellsworth will be in your blood, just like it’s in mine.”
Emmy looked away. There were some things she liked about Wellsworth. She liked Jack and Lola, that was for sure. But the school itself? She didn’t feel much of a connection to it. She’d never really felt connected anywhere. It seemed pretty unlikely that a place could ever be “in her blood.”
Jonas flung his rake in a new direction. “And when it comes to that roommate… Well, in my experience bullies don’t usually bother pushing people who push back.”
• • •
Jack and Lola were sitting in the common room when Emmy got back. They were playing a card game Lola had invented that involved a lot of slapping of piles and shoving the other person out of the way.
“You’re not Madam Boyd’s daughter, are you?” Emmy asked.
Lola snatched a stack of cards from Jack’s side of the table. “Took you this long to figure that out, did it? Same last name, same accent, same winning personality.” She slapped her hand on a card and added it to one of her stacks.
Jack laid out four more cards and just managed to get his hand on one before Lola grabbed it.
“Is it weird having your mom as your head of house?”
Lola shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I don’t really know any different.”
Emmy chewed on her lower lip. There was something she’d been wondering about for a while, but she hadn’t figured out if it was okay to ask. “Your mom doesn’t seem very old. Why does she walk with a cane?”
“She was in an accident,” Lola said. “Tore the inside of her knee to shreds.”
There was a flurry of cards and both Jack and Lola emptied their stacks onto new ones. Jack pulled at his hair and groaned.
“Gotcha!” Lola grinned and turned to Emmy. “What about your mum? She writes books telling people all the things they’re doing wrong with their kids, right?”
Emmy laughed. “Something like that.”
“Do you hear from her much?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, but not today.” Emmy sighed. “I think she forgot that today’s my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday?” Lola said. “Why didn’t you tell us!?”
Emmy shrugged. “I’m not really a birthday person.”
“What about your dad?” Jack asked. “Did he send you anything?”
“Um, no.”
Jack and Lola looked at her like they expected her to say more. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She didn’t have to say anything else. But Jonas’s words kept coming back to her. Give them a chance.
She took a deep breath. “My dad disappeared on my third birthday. The police said it was really suspicious, and that someone probably…” Emmy swallowed, “…did something to him, but no one really knows for sure.”
“But then…” Jack hesitated. “Then he could have just…left?”
Emmy
didn’t say anything. This was why she hadn’t talked about her dad before. Because she didn’t want to answer that question. Finally, she nodded. “Maybe.”
The table went quiet. Lola tapped her cards, and Jack kept running his fingers through his hair.
“Look,” Lola said, “I know it’s not the same, but I know what it’s like to miss my dad. And Jack, well,” she glanced at Jack and he looked down at the table, “he’s never really known his dad at all. Not really.”
Jack nodded, but he didn’t look up.
“I guess all I’m trying to say is…you’re not alone here.”
Emmy pressed her eyes tight to keep any tears from falling. She’d never been any place where she didn’t feel alone. Maybe she’d finally found one.
Lola cleared her throat. “All right, enough sappiness, it’s making us all dreary and you can’t have a lousy birthday this year. Saint Audrey wouldn’t approve. Come on, let’s go to the feast.”
They stood up and were walking to the door when Victoria walked past and bumped extra hard into Emmy. She snickered and Emmy sighed.
“I’m so sick of her.”
Lola shook her head. “You’ve got to stop letting her push you around.”
“I tried.”
“So, try again,” Lola said. “Show her you’re not just some wishy-washy little girl.”
“But how?”
Lola flashed a smile. “Some people might punch her, but I frown on that sort of thing.”
Emmy laughed and felt a warm rush in her chest. She’d always wanted a friend who made her laugh like Lola did.
Emmy followed them out the door, then stopped. Punching Victoria wasn’t exactly her style, but maybe there was something else she could do.
She bit her lip and smiled.
“Are you coming?” Jack asked. “You can’t miss out on the chance to eat an Audrey feast while the rest of us are stuck with plain old Hall food.”
“Uh, I’ll catch up. There’s something I need to do first.”
She dashed up the stairs and grabbed a pencil and pen from her backpack. Her economics textbook had been tossed on her bed, but thankfully the nail polish hadn’t dribbled onto her bedspread. Emmy ignored her own book and rummaged through Victoria’s textbooks until she found the one she was looking for: a pristine, barely opened copy of Economics for Third Form. She opened the cover and carefully erased Victoria’s name, then wrote in a new one in pen. She grabbed the nail polish–soaked book, put it on Victoria’s bed, and grinned as she wrote her roommate a note.
• • •
Emmy dug into the feast with gusto, but after trying a pie that seemed to be filled with cold slabs of pork sitting in Jell-O, she was a little more cautious. The Audrey girls brought leftovers to the common room and were sharing them with the Edmund boys when a piercing scream rang out from upstairs. A bunch of people ran to the stairs to see what was going on, but Emmy ignored them and popped a piece of marzipan-covered cake into her mouth.
Victoria flew down the staircase and stomped over to Emmy. “What is this supposed to mean?” She waved a piece of paper in Emmy’s face.
Emmy cocked her head to one side. “Just what it says. I borrowed your economics textbook this morning.”
“What do you mean, you borrowed my economics textbook?” Victoria screeched.
“Well, I couldn’t find mine, so I borrowed yours. I was coming back to return it when I accidentally dropped it on your toes. Sorry about that, by the way.”
Victoria held up the polish-soaked textbook. “This is YOUR book, not mine!”
“It can’t be, I have mine right here.” Emmy held up a crisp, clean economics textbook and pointed to the inside cover. “See? It has my name in it.”
Victoria tried to open the front cover of her book, but the first few pages were completely stuck together.
“That sure was a nasty spill,” Emmy said sweetly. “You ought to be more careful.”
Victoria clenched her jaw. “You switched these books, I know you did!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re welcome to take your suspicions to Madam Boyd. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about how that little spill happened.” She smiled and put another slice of cake on her plate.
Victoria stood there for a few moments before storming off, taking the ruined book with her.
Jack and Lola stared at Emmy.
“Is that really your book?” Jack asked.
“Of course not,” Emmy whispered. “She dumped nail polish in mine, so I switched them before dinner. Not like it was hard—I just erased her name and wrote mine in. That’s why you should always use pen.”
Lola shook her head. “Not bad for your first act of vengeance.”
Emmy’s phone dinged. She pulled it out of her pocket, read the new text message, and sighed.
“What’s up?” Jack asked.
“From my mom,” Emmy said, and she read the text aloud. “‘Sorry I couldn’t call, Em, I was filming all day and I’m just about to get on a plane to Denver. I transferred some money into your account as a birthday present. Next year I’ll do something more special, I promise! Love you.’”
Lola grinned. “Cash in your bank account’s not bad, is it?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Cash was nice, but a phone call would have been nicer.
CHAPTER 9
Christmas
The closer it got to Christmas, the less people seemed to be paying attention to their schoolwork. Working in the common room was hopeless, but Emmy didn’t mind. She was one of only a handful of students who wasn’t going home for the holidays, and with Victoria gone, she could use the break to catch up on schoolwork. In the meantime, she was happy to hang out in the common room, listen to punk rock carols, and snap the little gift packages called Christmas crackers with whichever third year had gotten their hands on some that day. Emmy didn’t miss being in Connecticut at all. Her mom usually spent the holidays working on her latest book, and being with friends at Wellsworth was a lot merrier than sitting in an empty living room and staring at an artificial tree.
The school got a lot quieter on the last day before Christmas break. Lola left at lunchtime to catch a train to Glasgow to see her dad, and by the time Emmy finished her last class, it seemed like half the school was gone. She walked Jack out to the parking lot while he waited for his ride home.
Malcolm was there, too, but he stood on the opposite end of the lot, playing on his phone like his brother wasn’t even there.
“Who’s picking you up?” Emmy asked.
“Vincent, I think.”
“Is that your oldest brother? The one who left school a couple years ago?”
Jack nodded. “He works for my dad now.” He picked up his suitcase. “There’s his car.”
A silver sports car pulled into the drive and stopped right beside Malcolm. The driver jumped out, pulled Malcolm into a tight side hug and slapped him on the back.
“I’d better go,” Jack said. “Happy Christmas, Emmy.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Jack pulled his suitcase across the parking lot and threw it into the trunk. He hopped in the back seat, and it didn’t look like he or his brothers even said hello.
Emmy wandered back to the mostly empty common room and got out her schoolbooks. She worked most of the day and the next day, too. By Christmas Eve, she had made a serious dent in all the reading and worksheets that had been looming over her since she arrived.
Emmy woke up early on Christmas morning. Master Barlowe had arranged for a bus to take people into the nearby town of King’s Lynn for the day. Apparently, they were going to a concert, which didn’t sound that interesting, but it was better than doing homework on Christmas day.
It didn’t take long for the bus to get to King’s Lynn. Emmy had never seen so much brick in her life. Some w
ere rusty red, some dingy gray, and some in a black-and-white checkered pattern that seemed like it had been there forever. Finally, the bus stopped in front of an old stone church.
“Here are your tickets,” Master Barlowe said as he walked up the aisle. “Make sure you’re back on board by two o’clock.”
Emmy grabbed her ticket and had just hopped off the bus when her phone rang. “Hello?”
“Merry Christmas, darling!” her mother sang.
“Merry Christmas, Mom.”
“How was your morning?”
“Pretty good, actually. We had a huge English breakfast this morning, and we’re just about to go to a concert.”
“That sounds lovely. I’m in New Mexico. We’re taking a break from filming over the holidays, but it didn’t seem worth it to go all the way back to Connecticut when there wasn’t anyone there.”
Other students jostled past Emmy and went into the church. She checked her watch; she had a few minutes yet. “How’s filming going?”
“All right, I guess. I don’t really get to see much other than the hotel and the house of whichever family I’m working with.”
Emmy wrinkled her nose. That didn’t sound like much fun. “Are you meeting lots of people?”
“Constantly,” her mom said. “There are producers and more crew than I ever imagined, and I don’t actually spend that much time with the families. Most of it is just filming whatever some producer or director tells us to do that day. It’s strange. There are people everywhere all the time, but it’s actually kind of lonely.”
The phone got quiet. Emmy didn’t know what to say. It didn’t really sound like her mother was all that happy, but what could Emmy do about that?
“But the work is the important part,” her mom said. “It’s all about helping people. I’m sure it must be helping someone.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” She checked her watch. “Sorry, Mom. I have to go, the concert’s about to start.”