by Betsy Haynes
Puzzled, Christie opened it and folded back the tissue that was inside. It was a bracelet, made of cream-color strands woven in an intricate pattern.
"Rigel said to tell you it was for good luck," said Connie, smiling.
"It's made out of Rigel's hair, isn't it?" Christie asked.
"Hair from his mane," responded Connie. "But he had to have help weaving it."
Christie smiled. "Thanks, Connie," she whispered. "I know it will be good luck."
"I'll be back in a little while," he promised. "I've got to see what Davey and Nicki are fighting about now."
Christie watched him walk away. She wasn't sure what would happen between her and Connie, but she liked him very much.
A flurry of movement caught her attention. Some of the girls were bustling around their tables, adjusting things to make their projects look just right. Then Christie saw why. The judges were coming.
CHAPTER 16
Mrs. Tillington led the judges from table to table. With them were the man and woman Christie had seen before. At each table the judges stopped and looked at the student's project from every possible angle. Sometimes one of them asked the girl standing next to it a question. All of the judges made notes on their clipboards before they went on to the next table.
As Christie watched them, she noticed that the man and woman had clipboards, too. They were making notes and asking questions right along with Mrs. Tillington, Miss Woolsey, and Miss Finney.
As they moved closer to Christie's table, she watched Miss Finney's face. The teacher didn't look as if she were in a good mood. Her frown was deeper than Christie had ever seen it. I'm dead, Christie thought. It's all over.
When they reached Christie's table, Mrs. Tillington smiled at her. "Hello, Christie. This is Mr. Willoughby and Mrs. Thacker. They're helping us judge today." Then she explained to the two judges, "Christie and her family recently arrived here from the States."
Mr. Willoughby and Mrs. Thacker smiled warmly at Christie.
"What an enormous project," commented Miss Finney. But it didn't sound like a compliment to Christie. The teacher shook her head slightly as she made notes.
"Well," said Mr. Willoughby, peering closely at Christie's project. "What have we here? Is this supposed to be England?"
"Yes, sir," answered Christie quickly. "I wanted to show how the English people have adapted and used the things around them. That part is prehistoric England, that one's today, and that one's England in the future."
"Interesting concept," remarked Mrs. Thacker. "Is this meant to show when our island was attached to the continent?" she asked, looking at the first part.
"Yes," Christie replied.
Miss Woolsey circled the table, followed by Miss Finney, who was scribbling notes as fast as she could on her notepad. At one point Miss Finney stopped and looked at Christie with a raised eyebrow.
Christie could see her parents and Connie standing nearby watching. Connie raised his crossed fingers so she could see them.
"Hmm, one thing the project demonstrates is how the earth's crust moves around. How interesting," said Mr. Willoughby.
Christie thought she heard him mutter, "Ingenious." Miss Finney continued making notes without saying anything.
It seemed as if the judges were taking forever at her table. Of course, my project is bigger than the others, she told herself nervously. And Miss Finney probably needs the extra time to find all the things that are wrong with it. I bet she's even making notes about how bad my painting is.
"Are we finished here?" asked Mrs. Tillington finally. The other judges nodded.
"Very good, Christie," Miss Woolsey told her as they left.
Connie raced over. "Well, what do you think?"
Christie let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I think a couple of them liked it. But it won't make any difference if Miss Finney wasn't impressed."
"Maybe she was," Connie said.
Christie remembered the look on Miss Finney's face and her comment about the project's being big. "Don't count on it."
When the judges were finished looking at all the projects, they went up onto the stage and sat in a circle of chairs, talking. Phoebe, Nicki, Davey, and Charlie joined Christie and Connie.
"I bet they're not even talking about the competition," said Nicki. "They just want us to think they are so we'll be impressed."
"They've probably already counted your project out," said Davey. "Who'd ever expect watching colored water run up a stalk of celery to win, anyway?"
"Miss Finney assigned the experiment in her classes," protested Nicki. "If it was good enough for her, it's good enough for me. Besides, if I'd been more original and showed you how brilliant I really am, you'd feel even more inferior." Davey bumped her with his shoulder.
After what seemed like forever, Mrs. Tillington got up and moved to the microphone. The crowd quieted.
"Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and students. I appreciate your turning out in such numbers to show your support for our participants.
"First I'd like to introduce our judges to you." As she called each of their names, the judges stood up and were applauded. She introduced Mr. Willoughby as someone from the British Museum, where the Bloomsbury District competition was to be held; Mrs. Thacker was a member of the city council.
"As you may or may not know, we originally planned to have only three judges. Miss Woolsey, however, suggested that we change our scoring procedure in a way to make things more fair, which is why we added two members to our team.
"We also changed our scoring procedure. Both the highest and the lowest scores received by each student have been discarded, and the three remaining scores averaged."
Mrs. Tillington's words hit Christie like a shock wave. If Miss Finney scored Christie's project low, the way Christie guessed she would, it would be thrown out. A thrill raced up Christie's spine. There was actually a chance her project would be treated fairly.
Connie squeezed her shoulders and grinned at her.
"If Christie's project doesn't win, I'm going to go on strike," muttered Nicki.
"I think you've got a good chance now, Christie," whispered Phoebe.
Christie smiled at her new friends. Suddenly she realized it was almost like being back home in the States with the rest of The Fabulous Five. Nicki, Phoebe, Connie, and the others were cheering for her.
"Let me announce the winners from the bottom up," continued Mrs. Tillington. "Third place goes to Miss Wilma Turley." The crowd applauded as Wilma went to get her award.
"Second place goes to Miss Sarah Pike."
When the crowd quieted down again, Miss Tillington announced, "First place goes to Miss Christie Winchell."
Christie almost fainted.
"Miss Winchell, I'd like to see you for a moment," said Miss Woolsey as the girls filed out of homeroom to go to their next class.
"Have a seat, Christie." It was the first time Miss Woolsey had called her by her first name.
"I'm very pleased that one of my girls took first place in the science competition. I must say, your project is impressive. I expect you'll do very well in the Bloomsbury District competition."
"Thank you, Miss Woolsey."
"Christie . . ." Miss Woolsey seemed to be searching for the right words. "I have a rule that I don't get involved between my students and their other teachers. The other mistresses are quite professional, and it is not my place to judge them.
"You are aware that I've been concerned about your science grade, however. In this case I looked more deeply into the problem than I normally do. I broke my rule. There's something that I think you should know.
"I know Emma . . . Miss Finney, that is, very well. She is a dedicated educator. Do not doubt that. When we were in school together, her greatest ambition was to go to Oxford University, just as yours is. In her case, her family was poor. The only way she could manage the expense of going to Oxford was to receive a Rhodes scholarship. She worked hard and thought she ha
d obtained one, but she was beaten out by another girl. An American." Miss Woolsey looked in Christie's eyes, apparently to see if she fully understood.
"It doesn't excuse her actions, but perhaps it will help you better understand her bias in this case."
"Yes," said Christie.
"I can't say any more, but I don't believe you'll have any more problems in science. One other thing you should know. Miss Finney's scoring of your project was thrown out, but not for being the lowest. It was thrown out because it was the highest."
Christie stared at Miss Woolsey. She couldn't believe her ears.
The teacher smiled at Christie's obvious surprise. "She guessed why the scoring changes were made and was upset. But when she saw your project, she knew she had been wrong. As I said, Miss Finney is a dedicated teacher. I believe you should give her another chance, too."
"I will, Miss Woolsey. I will."
"And, Christie."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Miss Finney told me she thought you know more about England than any of her other students."
Christie slipped into her pajamas and moved her bears to their usual place in the chair beside the bed. She pulled back the covers and climbed up onto the big, soft mattress. Next she scrunched down until she had found just the right spot and picked up her notepad and ballpoint pen.
The trophy she had received for her project was in the center of her desk, where she could see it easily. Right next to it was a picture of Connie he had given her that evening. He had said he wanted to do everything he could to keep her thinking about him and not the cove in the States.
She would never tell Connie, but Chase's picture was on the other side of the trophy so she could see it, too. It was going to take a lot of thinking for her to separate her feelings about the two boys in her life.
It was complicated, like trying to understand Miss Finney She guessed that Miss Finney's actions just proved teachers were human beings, too. Not everyone can be perfect, although it was hard to imagine teachers better than Miss Woolsey and Mr. Dracovitch.
Christie pursed her lips as she started her letter.
Dear Jana,
I'm sorry it has taken me so long to answer your letter. I needed to think about the situation between you and Randy for a while before I wrote.
Christie paused for a moment, then glanced at the trophy. After I finish giving her my advice, she thought, I'm going to ask for hers about Chase and Connie. Then she picked up her pen again and continued.
I hope by the time you get this, you and Randy will have worked things out. . . .
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
