New Girl

by Laura Sieveking

  ‘So, can you tell me a bit more about this trophy that went missing?’ I asked Mrs Sinclair, with my pen poised over my open notebook.

  ‘Well, Ella,’ she said, gazing out the window, ‘we all know that the world is full of … of stuff, really. Items that crowd our lives—things we think we need which we really don’t. But there are also things that have immense sentimental value—they are more than just stuff.’

  I scribbled frenziedly. Sentimental value.

  ‘And the House trophy was a special thing of sentimental value to the Eden community. You see, the previous headmistress before me—the one who donated the trophy—was someone very close to me,’ Mrs Sinclair said.

  ‘Can I ask who?’

  ‘Yes, she was my aunt. She was the one who got me a job at Eden College as a teacher. I was young and keen and excited about teaching the girls here. And she was such a passionate person. Passionate about education. Passionate about literature. Passionate about changing lives.’

  I nodded as I continued to scribble.

  ‘She taught well into her old age, always inspiring the girls and faculty staff to be the best they could be. Do you know what our school motto is, Ella?’ Mrs Sinclair asked.

  I thought back to the school emblem. Underneath it were words in a language I didn’t know.

  ‘It’s in Italian, isn’t it?’ I asked.

  ‘No, my dear, Latin. Some people think Latin is a dead language, just because it isn’t spoken anymore. But Latin is like a key—it is a language which opened the doors to our own language, with all its richness. Our school motto is, In Meliora Contende. Can you say it?’

  ‘In Mel …’ I began.

  ‘Meliora Contende,’ Mrs Sinclair finished.

  I let the words roll around my tongue. In Meliora Contende. ‘What does it mean?’ I asked.

  ‘It means, Strive for Better Things. But it also means that the good you do will yield more good things.’

  I nodded, thinking about the meaning.

  ‘And that is what my aunt taught the girls. She taught them to always try their best and to always seek to do good in a world that isn’t always right,’ Mrs Sinclair said, taking a sip of her tea. ‘And so, when she passed away, we made a new House trophy. It was called the Meliora Trophy, and is very precious to me and to the school.’

  I continued to scribble down notes.

  ‘So, how do you feel about it being stolen?’ I asked. Ivy had said that good journalists always get to the emotion of a piece.

  ‘Well, I feel very sad, Ella. Because theft is the very opposite to everything my aunt, and indeed our whole school motto, stands for.’

  ‘The antithesis, you might say?’ I probed. That’s a fancy word for opposite.

  Mrs Sinclair let out a chuckle and nodded. ‘You are a smart cookie, aren’t you, Ella?’ But then she stopped speaking and stared out the window, into the distance.

  I paused in my scribbling and looked at Mrs Sinclair. She really did look sad. This wasn’t just another trophy to her. This was something that represented her aunt. And the school she loved.

  ‘Do you have any more information on your aunt— maybe some other things I can read about her? Maybe I could do a profile on her?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, that would be so lovely, Ella. I actually have some newspaper clippings about her. But alas, they are in my filing cabinet over there,’ Mrs Sinclair said, nodding towards the wooden filing drawers in the corner of her office. ‘Frustratingly, I lost my key just this week! So silly of me—I always keep it in my top drawer here, but I must have taken it out.’

  Still in reporter mode, I wrote that down in my notes.

  ‘But don’t worry—I’ll book the handyman in to come and open the lock for me, and when he does I will show the newspaper articles to you,’ she assured me.

  I took my last sip of tea and thanked Mrs Sinclair. Having tea with her felt like a little piece of home.

  ‘I look forward to reading your piece,’ Mrs Sinclair said, as I gathered my notes together.

  ‘Thank you for your time,’ I said, standing up.

  As I walked out the door, I thought about Mrs Sinclair’s sad face. It wasn’t fair that someone had taken her aunt’s trophy away. And it wasn’t fair that someone had taken Zoe’s special necklace.

  I knew Mrs Sinclair only wanted me to write about the personal side of the thefts, but surely I could also keep an eye out for clues? I wasn’t about to go and accuse anyone of stealing anything. But if I was writing a report on the issue anyway, and interviewing the victims, then surely I had more insight into the mystery than anyone else.

  I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I decided then and there that I was going to find Zoe’s necklace and Mrs Sinclair’s trophy.

  After class, we had another meeting of Eden Press. Ivy was running the meeting and we began our layout for the upcoming edition of the online paper. A couple of the Year 9 girls who were really good at online design had begun making a template for the new-look paper, which we hoped more people would be reading.

  Two Year 8 girls were working together on the puzzle section—creating find-a-words and sudokus, as well as mazes and crosswords.

  A girl named Sara was editing photos on the computer—photos she had taken of the recent music ensemble concert and the Seniors’ debating team. I watched in awe as she zoomed in on the photos, editing them to make them brighter and clearer. She was like a magician with a wand. It was so cool.

  I sat at a desk near Ivy and a few other writers working on their journalistic pieces, too.

  ‘So, how’s the report on the thefts going, Ella?’ Ivy asked.

  I saw Saskia glance up at us, then quickly look back down at her screen.

  I was slightly surprised to see Saskia at the meeting. She’d missed the last meeting, saying she had to study for our upcoming streaming tests. She seemed to be taking that whole thing pretty seriously, even though all the teachers said it wasn’t a big deal.

  ‘Pretty good,’ I said. ‘I’ve got my interviews with the victims of the thefts and I’m going to add a piece about the headmistress that donated the House trophy that was stolen.’

  Ivy nodded. ‘Good work, Ella.’

  Saskia rolled her eyes.

  ‘What are you working on, Sass?’ Ivy asked her sister.

  ‘It’s top secret,’ Saskia said, as she minimised her open window.

  ‘Well, as Editor, don’t you think I should know what you are writing?’ Ivy asked.

  ‘Don’t worry—I’ll show it to you soon,’ Saskia chirped.

  Ivy narrowed her eyes and smiled slightly.

  ‘OK, I need someone to cover the athletics carnival next week,’ Ivy said in a loud voice to everyone in the room. ‘Who has time?’

  ‘I can!’ Saskia jumped up.

  ‘Really?’ her sister asked. ‘You just said you’re working on something else. And I know you’ve been really bogged down with studying for your testing. I don’t want you overwhelming yourself.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Saskia laughed. ‘I’ve studied my head off—I don’t think I need to study much more anyway.’

  ‘No studying anymore? That doesn’t sound like you, Sass! Usually you study right up until the last minute,’ Ivy laughed.

  Saskia flashed a bright smile and waved her hand in the air. ‘Oh, I’m prepared. And I’m sure I’ll end up in the top stream anyway, so what’s there left to stress about?’

  Ivy shrugged, clearly confused. ‘OK, if you are happy with that, it’d be great if you could cover the carnival.’

  ‘Done!’ Saskia sang.

  She sure was in a good mood today.

  ‘OK, everyone, feel free to go when you need to,’ Ivy said, beginning to shut down her laptop. ‘Great work today, reporters!’

  I watched Saskia as she continued to type on her computer. She seemed so much more bubbly today. I wondered why.

  ‘And what are you looking at?’

  I startled as Saskia caught me staring
at her.

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ I mumbled. ‘I was just thinking that you’re in a good mood today.’

  ‘Well, why wouldn’t I be? The sun is shining, I’ve got new ideas for Eden Press and I’m going to absolutely nail those streaming tests. What’s not to love?’

  ‘I guess,’ I said uncertainly.

  As I finished packing up my things, Saskia shut down her computer and gathered her own belongings together. She flashed a smile at her sister and skipped out the door. Ivy looked at me with a confused expression. Then she simply shrugged and gathered her items together before following Saskia out of the room.

  Chapter 11

  × −

  From: Ella

  Sent: Monday, 7:30 AM

  To: Olivia

  Subject: Weird, weird, WEIRD!

  Hi Olivia!

  Mum told me you went through to zone for the swimming carnival. That’s awesome! What else has been happening?

  It’s week three now, which means one thing: my class tests must be soon. They’re just to stream us into our classes, but I’m a bit nervous about it all. Saskia reckons you can lose your scholarship if you don’t do well in them. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I hope I can do OK, especially in English.

  Remember I told you about the stolen items at school? I’m investigating them for Eden Press. All the items have gone missing from the Year 7 dorm, except for one—a trophy from Mrs Sinclair’s office. But I can’t work out why on earth anyone would want to steal that?! Mrs Sinclair said it’s not worth lots of money. What would someone do with a trophy?! It’s really WEIRD.

  Speaking of weird, I asked Violet to sit with us at dinner last night. She did, but then halfway through eating she went kind of pale and left. I just don’t get that girl.

  Email me!

  Love, Ella

  xx

  PS. I STILL hear a clinking sound every night by my door. It’s so creepy! I’m too scared to get out of bed and check it out. I need a ghost trap—can you invent one for me???

  I loathe PE. PE is physical education, or sports class. Don’t get me wrong, I love gymnastics and dance and I even got pretty good at soccer at the end of primary school. Because I am so nimble and agile (that means light on my feet), I was a pretty good goalie. But PE is not my favourite subject. In primary school we’d have to run laps around the oval. Or do a thousand jumping jacks. Or play tug of war, where the boys would get so competitive that it would feel like our arms were getting yanked out of their sockets.

  I was sitting on the grass with Grace and Zoe. Two other girls in our year, Annabelle and Ruby, had come to sit with us too. Annabelle was the one who’d had her watch stolen from her room. I’d already interviewed her about it. We sat in a circle on the oval, waiting for our PE teacher to arrive. I stretched out my legs and felt the warm summer sun beating down on me. I rolled down my socks as far as they would go to try to avoid getting a sock tan line. So unsightly, as Nanna Kate would say!

  We all wore matching sports uniforms, which consisted of a teal t-shirt with a royal blue collar. It also had royal blue cuffs at the shoulders and our initials were embroidered onto the sleeve. The t-shirt showed the Eden crest, which had the school motto printed in Latin underneath. ‘In Meliora Contende,’ I whispered.

  We also wore royal blue shorts and white socks with white sneakers. For Christmas, I had received new purple sneakers with bright blue laces. They had a neon blue lightning bolt up the side and Dad said they would make me run extra fast. But then I found out Eden only allows white sneakers, which is very boring and not very expressive. So I have to save my cool sneakers for weekends. We also all wore matching royal blue caps with our ponytails pulled through the hole in the back. So much matchy-matchy at this school. It really does make it tough for a girl to express her fashion sense.

  ‘Can’t we just sit here in the sun all day?’ Grace said, dreamily. ‘I don’t want to get up and run.’

  ‘Maybe PE is different in high school,’ Zoe suggested.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Annabelle laughed, flicking her long, black ponytail over her shoulder. ‘Haven’t you heard about Coach Bright?’

  ‘What about her—’

  ‘EVERYBODY UP!’ a voice boomed from behind us. This was followed by what can only be described as excessive whistle use.

  A woman ran onto the field. She wore sports shorts, a t-shirt and long, white socks. Around her head was a fluoro pink sweatband, and a silver whistle was clenched between her teeth. Her frizzy, blonde hair curled out the top of her sweatband and she looked a bit like Mum did that time she and Dad dressed up for an 80s theme party. I remember Mum yelling, ‘The 80s are BACK!’ and looking at Coach Bright, I guess she was right.

  She jumped from foot to foot while intermittently blowing her whistle and yelling, ‘Up! Up! Up!’

  We fumbled about, trying to get to our feet as quickly as possible.

  ‘Gather around,’ she yelled, which was odd because we were already standing pretty close to her. ‘Right, follow me!’

  And with that, she bolted off up the grass, waving for us to follow.

  We were all too shocked to complain and ran after her like a clumsy pack of toddlers. She ran us around the oval four times (and the Eden oval is WAY bigger than our primary school oval). When we all got back to our starting places, we were hunched over, puffing and trying to catch our breath.

  ‘You are all so unfit!’ Coach Bright boomed. ‘You are meant to be my young, spritely Year 7 girls! Why so sluggish? Too many midnight feasts already?’

  Grace’s face went bright red.

  ‘Follow my stretches!’ Coach Bright cried.

  We all stretched out our arms, necks and legs, before collapsing into a heap on the grass.

  ‘When will this be over?’ Annabelle moaned.

  ‘Over?’ Coach Bright yelled, overhearing Annabelle. ‘Why, we’ve only just begun! Now the FUN starts! We’re going to play a game.’

  Coach Bright dragged over a big, netted bag filled with balls.

  I like plenty of types of balls—soccer balls, gumballs, Cinderella’s ball, crystal balls, disco balls, I could go on and on. But there’s one ball I really despise and it’s …

  ‘DODGEBALL!’ yelled Coach Bright.

  I slapped my forehead.

  ‘OK, grab a bib. Girls on this side, you are the red team. And girls on this side, you are the white team. I’ll line up the balls in the centre of the field. Everyone go to their team ends, and when I blow the whistle, you run in and get a ball. Remember, you can only hit people with the ball on the legs. If you get hit, you’re out!’

  We all took our places. I had Grace, Zoe, Annabelle and Ruby on my side, as well as some other girls from my class. I could see Saskia, Portia and Mercedes on the opposing team. Portia and Mercedes looked most unimpressed, but Saskia bounced around excitedly, ready to compete. I could also see Violet standing towards the back of their team.

  ‘Take your mark, get set …’ Coach Bright blew forcefully through her whistle as everyone ran into the centre to get a ball.

  As soon as I reached the centre, balls started flying around all over the place. I ducked and dodged and jumped to keep out of the way. In my peripheral vision, I saw a ball smack into Zoe’s thigh.

  ‘Ow!’ she complained, rubbing her leg as she walked to the sideline.

  I threw my ball and it rolled into Mercedes’ ankle as she stood still, unmoving.

  ‘Oh, I’m out, how terrible,’ she said sarcastically.

  The numbers slowly began to dwindle as more and more people got hit with a ball. As much as I don’t like dodgeball, I had to admit, I was doing pretty well!

  Soon there were only four of us left. Annabelle and me versus Saskia and Portia.

  Saskia threw the ball hard and fast. Annabelle dodged it, but then lost her footing and fell over. While she was on the ground, Portia gently rolled the ball into her legs.

  ‘You’re out!’ Portia yelled.

  Annabelle
got up and walked off the field. ‘Go, Ella!’ she yelled. I was the last one left.

  I heard Saskia yelling tactics to Portia to get me out. ‘Portia, go left! Let’s attack, one after the other! Throw harder!’

  Saskia hurled the ball towards my knees. I did a big jump over it and landed awkwardly on my ankle. It didn’t hurt, but it did cause me to lose my balance and my body came down into a crouch.

  Right at that moment, I saw Portia’s arm whip back and release.

  BANG.

  Everything went black for a second. I stumbled backwards, falling onto my bottom as a hot pain surged through my eye.

  ‘Oh, Ella, I’m so sorry!’ Portia squealed, as she came running over. ‘I was aiming for your legs—I didn’t expect you to be down!’

  Pain throbbed in my eye.

  ‘OK, clear the way,’ Coach Bright said, tutting as she waded through the crowd that had gathered around me. ‘Let me have a little look.’

  She gently pulled my hand away from my eye. ‘You might have a bit of a black eye there, Ella,’ she said. ‘But I loved how you put your body on the line!’

  I didn’t love it.

  ‘Violet, can you please take Ella down to sick bay to get some ice?’

  Violet shuffled over from the back of the crowd and gently took my arm. ‘Come on, Ella,’ she whispered, as she helped me up. Everyone was staring at me and I felt mortified. Which means extremely embarrassed.

  ‘Everyone else, let’s get ready for ROUND 2!’ Coach Bright hollered. Everyone groaned.

  Violet continued to loosely hold my arm as we walked off the oval and onto the path that wound its way through the school.

  ‘I’ve never been to sick bay. Do you know the way?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said flatly.

  We walked in silence until we arrived at a little building down by the dormitories. Violet held the door for me as we walked inside. Everything looked clean and sanitary. White walls. White floor. White cabinets. There was the unmistakable smell of antiseptic in the air. The reception room at the front of the office was empty except for a desk and some chairs scattered around the room. I could see smaller rooms off the reception area and, as I peeked inside, I spied long trolley beds with crisp, white linen.