“Why are you whispering?” Emily asked, amused.
“Because, I mean… it’s like, totally undercover. I mean, TOTALLY. I asked the senior at the Journalism table about it because I overheard some guys talking about it in my dorm… and well… it’s a long story but the girl I talked to happened to be the one who had been writing it and said it’s a lot of work and she’d be happy to hand it off this year.”
“What?” Emily said surprised, “It’s totally undercover, but she just told you that she writes it? Sounds like her cover is blown.”
“Yeah, sounded like she already planned on giving it up, she thought she’d just drop it… but I convinced her to give it to me… but the cover that needs to be kept is for the NEW contributors…” he said, nodding his head slowly and widening his eyes.
“So… are you telling me that you’re the new writer for this secret blog?”
Xander pulled Emily further from the crowds of students.
“Shhhh…” he said so suspiciously that if the place hadn’t been so buzzing and busy he would have blown his own secret identity. Emily wasn’t so sure he was cut out for the spy life.
“Yeah,” Xander continued, “Leila is her name… she’s in your dorm actually… she said I could take it over! I told her no one would suspect she would hand it off to a Prep… she bought it. But she also said it’s a ton of work, and that was one of the reasons she didn’t want to do it for her last year. She asked if I knew anyone else that could keep a secret…”
This was where Emily came in. She got it.
“Ah… And you think I can keep a secret?” Emily asked.
“Well, I hope so because now you know about me… I think you pretty much have to do this with me now. I mean, it’s that or I have to kill you.”
Emily giggled.
“Funny but not funny,” she said.
“We could take it over. Emily, this is so super cool. Think about it… we’d get to uncover campus mysteries… like, everybody reads this blog. It is literally the holy grail to someone like me. I love journalism and this blog is the campus buzz.”
“Well, it sounds like I don’t have a choice… I’m too young to die,” she said, smiling and giving Xander a wink.
“But just so you know,” said Emily, “I’ve never even written my own blog. I hardly post on social… I mean, I don’t really know what I’m doing but if it means that much to you I’ll give it a try.”
Xander squeezed his fists together in excitement.
“It’s going to be awesome. I’ll just run back to the table and let the Leila know… we can snoop on people. Tell people’s embarrassing stories. This is going to be so fun!”
“It sounds kind of mean,” said Emily, “I don’t want to like, hurt anyone though. So nothing like that, ok?”
“Of course. We’ll only expose total crims. The rest can be funny stuff or like… I don’t even know… but this is going to be awesome,” said Xander, hardly able to contain his intense excitement, “So… you’re totally in? I mean, it will be a bit of work, but it will be so cool.”
“I’m in,” said Emily.
And at that, Xander thrusted himself on her and gave her an enormous hug.
CHAPTER TWENTY
JUST WHEN EMILY was getting good at forgetting about her old self, she got assigned her math study buddy for the term.
“Pleased to meet you. My name is Randall James Cunningham the Third,” he said in a robotic tone Emily hadn’t really encountered before, “But people call me Randy.”
Randy. Like Andy.
Emily felt the name fall on her like a ton of bricks. She hadn’t thought about Andy for at least a week. Maybe even more. With all the packing to leave for Boston and meeting new people, she hadn’t even had one of her recurring dreams.
But suddenly images of his nighttime visits came flooding back. Andy had stopped by often in the dark of the night. In her dreams. They must have been dreams, but they didn’t feel like it.
It would be the middle of the night. Everyone would be sleeping and the house would be quiet. Emily would awaken, either needing to pee or for a glass of water, and she would go to the bathroom. She would sleepily go about her business and then she would look in the bathroom mirror. Only there, instead of her own reflection looking back at her, it would be Andy’s. He would look at her straight in the eyes. They would share an intense moment. And the next thing Emily knew, she was awake.
These dreams felt so real. They had been happening at least a few times a week since Andy died. And always, she would wake up wondering what he was trying to tell her. Why did he keep visiting her? She wished he would talk to her.
And now, “R”Andy. Just when she thought she might leave these dreams behind, the ones that made her want to go to sleep to see Andy as much as they caused insomnia. She had decided that she needed to stop these dreams somehow in order to move on from her sadness. But now, she had to hang out five days a week with a guy who would not let her forget.
Not that he looked anything like Andy. Randy was African-American and everything about him was worlds apart from Andy. Nevertheless… the name.
“So, you’re Emily,” he said without noticing her demeanor, “Do you like math, Emily?”
“Uh…” she said, snapping out of her memories, “yes, I guess so. I’ve never really thought about whether or not I like it. Just something you do for school, right?”
He looked at her intensely, with very little expression.
“Yes. Very true,” he replied, “I like math. It makes sense and is logical. I like logical things. Are you going to tell me something you like now?”
His directness was strange. She didn’t know if she found it funny or uncomfortable.
“Um. Sure,” she replied, “I like science. Biology and human anatomy mostly.”
“Did you sign up for dissection or no dissection?”
“Don’t judge me,” she said, “But I signed up for dissection.”
“Me, too.”
The trigonometry teacher, Mr. Kim, was very strict and was serious about the entire class succeeding, and therefore he assigned study buddies rather than allowing the class to haphazardly meet up, or worse, not meet up at all.
Mr. Kim was a tiny Korean man, smaller than Emily, but something about him was very intimidating. He explained the importance of his social learning method.
“First,” he said authoritatively, “having your study buddy will help you get to know another prep. You’ve all just started here, and it’s nice to have varying ways of meeting one another. Look around at the other students in this class. You will live with these people for four years here at Harlow. Learn to like them.
Second, I like to encourage students to study with others. I have found group study very beneficial. You will do the same work as one another and can pool your knowledge, resources and skills which will only increase your success rate. And I take my success rate, meaning your grades, very seriously. So don’t let me down.”
Emily sat around a large, round table with about eleven other students. It was not a traditional classroom with individual desks facing a whiteboard where some teacher dictated things to memorize. Classes at Harlow were discussions. The Harlow method of teaching was being seated around a table, figuring things out together with minimal teacher intervention. This was one of the things that Emily had thought was so cool in the prospectus.
But now that she realized the students would teach each other math, she wasn’t so sure she was ready to take that challenge on.
Mr. Kim handed out booklets that had nothing but a series of questions in them that appeared to get progressively harder. No formulas. No clues or tips. Just questions.
She looked at Randy who sat next to her at the table and who stared intently at the problems in the booklet not blinking. She probably lucked out being paired with him. He might have been a bit strange, but he seemed in the zone and because he appeared to be a robot rather than human, she didn’t feel like he would judge he
r if she didn’t understand something.
Suddenly Randy’s head shot up and he made eye contact with Emily.
He whispered, “We will be just fine. I know all of this.”
She decided that she really liked Randy.
Emily was the kind of girl that liked just about everyone. Even though she often struggled to find it in herself, she always seemed to find a bit of good in those around her.
She remembered a time when she had been selling the Washington D.C. fundraising candy. Pepper had driven her to a nearby neighborhood on a Saturday so she could go door to door. He had parked up and was watching a football game on his cell as she walked herself from one end to the other of each city block. She had gone go up each side of the road, and when she finished, she would knock on the window of the car and Pepper would move it to the next block.
She had come to a man’s house who had smiled kindly. He had been slightly older than Pepper. He had invited her in, saying he had wanted some candy bars but he had needed to find some cash. She went into the house.
The man had gone to another room; he had been there for a few minutes, presumably to look around for money. Suddenly, there was a massive, banging knock on the door. Whoever it was pounded so hard, Emily had almost thought there would be a police raid.
The man ran back into the living room where Emily stood and stared at the door. The insane pounding alarmed him. Emily, too, felt frightened. Finally, slowly, he went to the door and peered through the peephole.
“Open up,” it was Pepper’s voice, “I’m the girl’s Dad.”
After this, Pepper immediately wanted to go home. He had seemed shaken up. As they drove home in the car he told her, “Em, you can’t just walk into people’s houses. You’re too trusting.”
But Emily didn’t think she was too trusting. She thought the world was upside down, thinking more ghastly things were happening than were. Sure, she knew there were pedophiles and serial killers. Heck, it was impossible to shelter kids from knowing things like that these days. But Emily also knew that she was more likely to get in a car accident than to be kidnapped and murdered.
Pepper’s fear that day spurred Emily on to be less naïve. It had been scary seeing a powerful, grown man be so panicked. So, she became more careful with stranger danger. But where her peers were concerned, she enjoyed seeing the good in people.
Sometimes she felt her optimism for others was all she had. Since Andy died, she decided once and for all that she had to convince herself that God was a sham. And if she didn’t have God, then what she had was people. And she wanted to believe the ones surrounding her were good ones.
“We need to make a study plan,” Randy said, “I think we should meet up two times per week. Instead of the suggested once. We can get an edge that way. It’s what I call my Phelps Strategy. Incremental gains amount to a lot over time. Everyone else will only meet once per week. Can you achieve that?”
This Randy guy was extreme and over the top. It sounded like a lot. After all, Emily had Conundrum, Cycling Club… a full class load. But Emily figured she would really have to up her game, especially around this guy. And she wanted Randy to feel like she knew how to work hard and pull her weight.
“You got it,” she said, not fully convinced she could handle it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EMILY WAITED ON the grass, and early bird as always, her watch showed she had fifteen minutes to wait before her first cycle club began.
She looked at her incredible Specialized road bike and thought what a long way she had come from the clunky bike she had when she learned.
Andy had taught her.
She remembered the day. “I’m bored of not being able to ride around the block just because you can’t make it around so let’s do this,” he has said, standing Emily’s bike up and gesturing for her to get on.
“No,” Emily had refused.
“You will do this and you’re going to do this now,” he said, menacing.
At almost ten years old, Andy had been a lot bigger than Emily. Choosing between fighting him or the sidewalk, she opted for the sidewalk.
“Now, I won’t let go til I know you’re balanced,” he said, “Your problem is you keep trying to get the bike started going up ill. We’ll use downhill today to get you started, and then you’ll get the hang of balancing without having to pedal.”
Emily was nervous. She had fallen a number of times before and had a constant collection of itchy scabs.
“Let’s go,” Andy blurted and pushed the bike.
Emily hadn’t been ready and she and the bike crashed down almost immediately, as one big messy unit.
She hit the ground and knocked a scab off her knee. Blood oozed from her knee and hands.
“I don’t want to do this, Andy,” she shouted loudly, defiantly.
“Stop being a baby. It’s just a bit of blood. Come on. I promise once you can ride your bike you won’t want to stop. It’s so fun. Get back on.”
She hadn’t felt had a choice.
“This time I’ll count it in. One… two… three!” He hushed her down the slope.
Emily gathered momentum. Andy hadn’t let go. She gained speed and put her feet on the pedals for better balance. Noticing her how fast the bike moved, she thought to tell Andy to slow down, but when she took a quick look behind, he had long since let go.
She had done it!
“Told you you could do it, Em. Come on, now we can actually have a fun summer instead of moping around inside.”
Thinking of her brother made Emily feel sleepy. She lied down in the grass and looked up at the clouds. She often looked at the clouds to re-center her mind. As they took on various shapes, fresh stories also formed, sometimes the clouds matching in theme. Sometimes, they simply provided a segue and a path away from whatever bothered her.
One cloud looked like an oar. She took a deep breath and sighed. She couldn’t wait to see Pierce again. And mister tall, dark and handsome was just around the corner. She peeked at her watch. Five more minutes.
She had seen Pierce in passing a few times over the course of the week. He was only in the dorm next to hers so she occasionally saw him from a distance going into Wainwright. She also saw him a couple times at Oak Street at dinner time, eating with an enormous group of jocks that Emily wouldn’t have dared walk up to.
When Emily saw Pierce with a big group of upper and senior athletes, it was a bit like looking a group of scary, wild dogs. They were loud in a barking, nonsensical sort of way. They didn’t seem to ever be holding one coherent conversation but rather howled for the sake of it. Humans are pack animals just like wolves, and everyone wants to belong to one.
Emily woke up early to grab a quick bite before cycle club on Sunday morning. She had to grab some toast in her dorm common room as even the dining hall hadn’t opened yet. As there were Saturday classes at Harlow, depending on one’s schedule, it might have been the only day of the week that any student would have to sleep in. This may have been the reason that there were only eight students in cycling club. Up in time for a 7am start, on the only day one could sleep in, meant only the most passionate were in attendance.
Cycle Club was lead by Mr. James, the lacrosse coach for junior girls and the hunky teacher on campus. Pierce perched on his bike seat next to him, looking the total part in his high end Team Ineos, Tour de France cycle jersey. Emily knew those jerseys cost almost a hundred dollars. She watched the Tour de France with her Grandpa every year who loved the event. Once, she thought to ask for a team jersey but looked them up and they were very much out of her price range.
She walked her bike up to Pierce and Mr. James.
Georgia had made the junior lacrosse team and knew Mr. James. When Emily mentioned she would join cycle club with him, Georgia could not stop talking about how awesome Mr. James was, how cute he was. How young he was.
She had a little crush. She seemed to like older guys. Much older guys. When Emily had asked her once which celebs she thought
were hot, Georgia had said Brad Pitt and Idris Elba. The other girls in the room were thinking more Justin Bieber and Zayn Malik.
“Hey, nice jersey,” she said to Pierce, “Fan of Geraint Thomas?”
She flaunted her cycling knowledge to score points with the guys.
Mr. James chimed in, “Ah… is this the one you told me about, Pierce? The real Gearhead?”
Emily suddenly felt shy. Pierce had been talking about her, again.
“Well, I don’t know that much about bikes, just watched the Tour with my Grandpa every year,” she said, feeling childish after saying it. She should have said something cooler.
But Pierce made her feel better, “Funny, me too. That’s how I first tried out cycling. My Gramps was on the US Olympic team and used to take me out biking. He can probably still cycle better than I can at 75.”
She gave a smile. He made her feel both better and impressed.
It seemed like these stories rang true of almost every Harlowite she met. “Grandpa was an Olympian,” “Mom is a Congresswoman,” “Dad works on the Mars exploration program”… the thing was that Harlow kids weren’t bragging, not really, because these things were factual. But these stories had made Emily feel so ordinary.
She thought about her family in that moment. The flooding reality of back home drowned her. Her mom was now an alcoholic. Her step Dad was a menacing builder. Her brother would never be the astronaut he had hoped to become.
She hadn’t meant to lie. It wasn’t pre-meditated. But there it was…
“Oh that’s cool. I’m going to check out the Tour next year. My Grandpa and I are going to tour France together, a sort of bonding trip,” she said, trying to fit in and whisk herself away into an imaginary life that belonged here at Harlow.
“Awesome. I love France. You ever been?” Pierce asked.
“No, not yet,” Emily said, trying not to dig herself deeper.
The End Defines the Beginning : A Boarding School Coming of Age (Harlow Academy Series Book 1) Page 9
