Excerpt
Jess
âÈêWhen you get accustomed to people or places or ways of living, and then have them suddenly snatched away, it does leave an awfully empty, gnawing sort of sensation.âÈë
âÈ'Daddy-Long-Legs
Dear Miss Delaney âÈö
âÈêWhatâÈçs this?âÈë I ask, picking up the letter thatâÈçs lying in the middle of my plate and scooching my chair closer to the table.
âÈêI guess youâÈçll have to read it and find out, wonâÈçt you?âÈë my mother replies. ThereâÈçs a funny tone in her voice and sheâÈçs smiling across the table at my dad. One of those mysterious we know something you donâÈçt kind of smiles.
Frowning, I start to read:
âÈêDear Miss Delaney,
Congratulations! WeâÈçre delighted to inform you that you have been nominated for a Colonial Academy FounderâÈçs Award. Created in honor of Harriett Witherspoon, the illustrious educator and suffragette who established our school, this award for academic excellence is offered each year to an outstanding local eighth-grade girl. It is indeed an honor to be nominated for this scholarship, and we hope you will accept it. Once again, congratulationsâÈ'we look forward to welcoming you to our school!âÈë
I toss the letter aside and start assembling my burger. âÈêI donâÈçt want to go to Colonial Academy,âÈë I tell my parents matter-of-factly. âÈêPass the ketchup please, Dylan.âÈë
My little brother removes one sticky paw from the ear of corn heâÈçs busy gnawing and shoves the bottle over to me. I pick it up gingerly, trying to avoid the buttery smears where his fingers touched it. Out of the corner of my eye I see my parents exchange a glance.
âÈêHoney, are you sure you understand?âÈë says my mother. âÈêTheyâÈçre offering you a full scholarship!âÈë
âÈêSo?âÈë
âÈêShouldnâÈçt you at least think it over?âÈë
âÈêI did,âÈë I reply, slapping the top of the bun onto my burger. âÈêI donâÈçt want to go.âÈë
My mother glances over at my dad again, her brow puckering with concern.
I sigh. âÈêLook,âÈë I tell them. âÈêI want to stay at Walden Middle School with my friends. I donâÈçt want to go to some dumb boarding school with a bunch of snobby rich kids.âÈë
Dylan and Ryan start to snicker.
âÈêHush!âÈë My mother frowns at them, then turns her attention to me again. âÈêSweetheart, theyâÈçre not snobby rich kids.âÈë She pauses. âÈêWell, some of them are rich, thatâÈçs true, but underneath theyâÈçre just normal girls like you.âÈë
My mouth, which is open to take a bite of hamburger, gapes at her instead. âÈêNormal? Mom, gimme a break! Have you been downtown and seen those kids? Some of them have chauffeurs! Their parents are movie stars and politicians and stuff like that.âÈë
âÈêMoooovie stars!âÈë chorus the twins.
âÈêBoys!âÈë my mother scolds again. âÈêJess, I think youâÈçre exaggerating just a tiny bit, donâÈçt you? There are plenty of wealthy people who are perfectly nice and normal. Just look at the Wongs. YouâÈçd never know they wereâÈ'âÈë
âÈêBazillionaires?âÈë my dad suggests.
âÈêMichael! IâÈçm trying to make a point here, and youâÈçre not helping.âÈë
âÈêSorry,âÈë my dad says cheerfully.
âÈêAt any rate,âÈë my mother continues, âÈêI think youâÈçre being too hasty about this decision, Jess. ItâÈçs an amazing opportunity. Besides, you already spend part of your day away from WaldenâÈ'I donâÈçt see how going to Colonial Academy would be all that different.âÈë
âÈêTrue,âÈë says my father. âÈêItâÈçs not like itâÈçs in ChinaâÈ'itâÈçs right here in town.âÈë
Great. Now heâÈçs ganging up on me too. How can I make them understand why I donâÈçt want to leave Walden Middle School? Especially after itâÈçs taken me so long to fit in. Sure, theyâÈçre right, IâÈçll be taking math and science classes at Alcott High again this year, but thatâÈçs hardly the same as being away from my friends all day every day. What would I do without Emma and Cassidy and Megan? Where would I sit at lunch? And how could I leave Half Moon Farm, the one place on earth I feel completely happy and safe? I like sleeping in my own bed, in my own room. I donâÈçt want to have to sleep in a dormitory, and share a room with some girl I donâÈçt even know.
I set my hamburger down on my plate. My stomach is starting to tie itself in knots. âÈêI just donâÈçt want to go,âÈë I say flatly.
My parents are silent. The only sound in the room is coming from my brothers, who are chomping loudly on their corn. I look out the window and spot a familiar figure on a bike, riding past our farmstand. ItâÈçs Kevin Mullins. HeâÈçs been doing this all summer. HeâÈçll ride by, and if he spots me in the front yard he makes a beeline in my direction, telling me he was âÈêjust in the neighborhood.âÈë Which is a big lie, because he lives way up on Ripley Hill Road and my house isnâÈçt on the way to anything.
âÈêThis really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,âÈë my father says. âÈêSurely there must be some nice girls who go to Colonial Academy.âÈë
Nice? I think of the squadrons of students parading around downtown in their designer clothes, bragging to one another about their vacations to places like Nantucket and Palm Beach and Switzerland. The girls from Colonial Academy are like a whole fleet of Becca Chadwicks, only worse. At least Becca never called us âÈêtownies.âÈë I shake my head again.
But my mother isnâÈçt taking no for an answer. âÈêYour fatherâÈçs right,âÈë she says. âÈêYou already know some of the students there. Lots of people here in town send their daughters to Colonial once they get to middle school and high school. ThereâÈçs Nicole Patterson, and that Bartlett boyâÈçs older sisterâÈ'whatâÈçs her name?âÈë
âÈêLauren,âÈë I mutter.
âÈêThatâÈçs the one. And how about Ellery Watson? You used to play with her sometimes back in elementary school.âÈë
I can tell by the looks on their faces that my parents are really excited about this stupid FounderâÈçs Award, but accepting it is absolutely, positively out of the question. Goat Girl at a private school? I would so not fit in.
My mother places her hand on my fatherâÈçs arm. âÈêTalk to her, Michael,âÈë she urges.
My dad reaches over and tugs on my braid. âÈêAt least think it over, okay? Colonial Academy is one of the best schools in the country.âÈë
âÈêHowâÈçd they even get my name?âÈë I grumble.
My mother reaches for a manila envelope on the sideboard behind her and pulls out a sheaf of pages. She riffles through them, then plucks one out. âÈêLetâÈçs see here âÈö award âÈö Witherspoon âÈö local eighth-grader. ThatâÈçs funnyâÈ'thereâÈçs no mention of who nominated you.âÈë
âÈêDonâÈçt you think thatâÈçs kind of creepy? ItâÈçs like somebodyâÈçs been spying on me.âÈë
My father laughs. âÈêIt just means that someone observed your academic abilities, honey. Your principal, probably, or maybe one of the guidance counselors. It would be pretty hard not to notice the smartest kid at Walden.âÈë
âÈêIâÈçm not the smartest,âÈë I reply sullenly. âÈêKevin Mullins is way smarter than I am.âÈë My eyes stray to the window. By the entrance to our driveway, Kevin is still riding around in circles.
âÈêHe didnâÈçt get nominated,âÈë says my mother. âÈêColonial Academy is a girlsâÈç school.âÈë
Which is another really good reason not to go, in my opinion. But I keep that thought to myself, because itâÈçs obvious my parents have their minds made up already.
My mother pulls out another sheet of paper. âÈêThey sent us an invitation to tour the academy and its facilities, followed by lunch with the headmistress. New student orientation starts soon, so weâÈçll have to hop on this if weâÈçre going to make it happen.âÈë
âÈêBut I donâÈçt want to make it happen!âÈë I tell her, starting to feel a little desperate. âÈêWhat about my chores? WhoâÈçs going to help look after the goats and the chickens and everything? Half Moon Farm needs me!âÈë
âÈêWeâÈçll work something out,âÈë says my dad. âÈêThe boys are going into the third gradeâÈ'theyâÈçre responsible enough to take over the morning milking. You did at their age.âÈë
I shoot my twin brothers a skeptical look. âÈêResponsibleâÈë is not the first word that comes to mind when I think of Dylan and Ryan. They may be almost nine, but they act more like theyâÈçre six most of the time.
My mother plucks a brochure from the pile of papers sheâÈçs holding and slides it across the table to me. âÈêJust look at this place, Jess! State-of-the-art science labs, a professional theater, a fabulous music departmentâÈ'you could take voice lessons again! ThereâÈçs even an equestrian center.âÈë
I glance down at the brochure. I didnâÈçt know Colonial Academy had horses.
âÈêIt would be kind of like getting an early taste of college,âÈë my father coaxes.
âÈêCollege?âÈë I leap to my feet. âÈêIâÈçm not even fourteen yet! Why are you trying to get rid of me?âÈë
I storm upstairs and fling myself on my bed. Sugar and Spice, our two Shetland sheepdogs, are close on my heels. They pace around my room anxiously, whining. The dogs hate it when IâÈçm upset. But how could I not be? I canâÈçt believe my parents are even seriously considering this. Colonial Academy? No way. I grab the phone off my night table and dial the HawthornesâÈç number. I need to talk to my best friend.
Emma picks up on the first ring. âÈêHey,âÈë she says.
âÈêHey back.âÈë
âÈêOh, itâÈçs you. Hi, Jess.âÈë
She sounds a little surprised, and I realize she was probably expecting Stewart Chadwick.
âÈêSomething awful happened,âÈë I blurt out, my voice quivering. âÈêI got this letter from Colonial Academy and it turns out IâÈçve been nominated for some scholarship and my parents want me to go but I donâÈçt want to!âÈë
âÈêWhoa, hold on a sec. Run that by me again?âÈë
I take a deep breath and repeat everything I just told her.
Emma is quiet for a long time. A really long time. So long, in fact, that I start to think maybe sheâÈçs hung up on me.
âÈêAre you still there?âÈë
âÈêYeah,âÈë she replies. âÈêIâÈçm just thinking.âÈë
âÈêWhatâÈçs there to think about? ItâÈçs a horrible idea.âÈë
âÈêI suppose,âÈë she says. âÈêI mean, it would be horrible not to see you at school every day. But itâÈçs not like youâÈçd be going to China or someplace.âÈë
My stomach lurches. Emma is sounding weirdly like my parents. She was the one person I thought I could count on to be on my side. âÈêYou mean you think I should go?âÈë
My bedroom door opens a crack and my mother pokes her head in. I frown and point at the phone, but she tiptoes in anyway and places the Colonial Academy brochure at the foot of my bed, then sneaks out. She leaves it open to the picture of the stables. A beautiful chestnut mare stares at me from out of one of the stalls.
âÈêYouâÈçve got to admit itâÈçs an honor to be nominated for something like this,âÈë Emma continues. âÈêYour mom and dad are right about that. I think you should at least go check it out. I mean, think about itâÈ' boarding school! ThatâÈçs pretty cool.âÈë
âÈêMaybe I should call Cassidy and see what she thinks.âÈë
âÈêSheâÈçs still at her grandparentsâÈç, remember?âÈë
CassidyâÈçs mother got married a couple of weeks ago and she and Stanley Kinkaid, CassidyâÈçs new stepfather, are on their honeymoon. Cassidy and her older sister Courtney are staying with their grandparents at their condo in downtown Boston.
âÈêIâÈçll ask Megan, then.âÈë
âÈêShe went with the Chadwicks to Cape Cod.âÈë
ItâÈçs Labor Day weekend, and most of the rest of the world is off someplace having a last blast of fun before school starts. Not us, of course. This time of year the Delaneys never budge from Half Moon Farm. Too much work to be done. The Hawthornes donâÈçt go away very often either. TheyâÈçre on kind of a tight budget, plus EmmaâÈçs dad always says he hates fighting holiday traffic and whoâÈçd want to be anywhere but beautiful Concord this time of year anyway?
âÈêBoarding school, Jess!âÈë Emma repeats. âÈêThatâÈçs so awesome! Maybe I could come visit you sometime.âÈë
Perfect. Now EmmaâÈçs sounding excited too. And even a little bit envious.
âÈêStill,âÈë she adds quickly, âÈêIâÈçd really miss you.âÈë
âÈêDonâÈçt worry,âÈë I tell her, shoving the brochure off the bed with my toe. âÈêYou wonâÈçt have to miss me. ThereâÈçs no way on earth IâÈçm ever going to Colonial Academy.âÈë
Âû 2009 Heather Vogel Frederick
