How I Became Mrs. Watts ✓

How I Became Mrs. Watts (45)

CHAPTER 45

I woke up to a lovely Friday morning. My last Friday of classes. I felt like celebrating this monumental event with somebody, but when I thought about, and I mean really thought about it, it didn't seem like that much of an accomplishment.

I got out the waffle maker-I secretly wondered why Andrew even had one when he couldn't use it-and began to make, you guessed it, waffles. Andrew got up and was carrying Oliver down the hall. “Good morning!” I said.

“You know, I could get used to this,” Andrew said.

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, don't get used to it.”

He raised his eyebrows at me, as if silently asking where I would go. I frowned and he pulled me into a big hug. I had to smile then. We ate our breakfast and were on our way to class. I realized why I hadn't wanted to celebrate this morning: it was my last day in Andrew's class. “I'm going to transfer schools after this quarter is over,” I said. I had already talked it over with my parents and had Taylor step in to convince them.

He knew why and he didn't look relieved like I had thought. “Where?”

Now I knew why. He was concerned about the distance between us. “Don't worry, it's not that far away. It's an hour away, but Taylor let it slip that I was living with you. My parents want me staying on campus, but agreed that I could stay with you on weekends.” I knew that he wouldn't exactly be thrilled about that. I wasn't either, but what could we do about it? The answer was nothing at all.

“Okay,” he sighed. He realized what I had. I sighed as well.

“We better make the last moments count then,” I said.

“Oh, I will. You can count on that, Ella,” Andrew said.

I placed myself in my usual seat and got my notebook out for the last time in this classroom. Ethan stopped by the room and said, “Here, Ella” while throwing my book to me. It whizzed past my head because I couldn't catch things to save my life. Andrew somehow knew this and stepped in to save High School Romance.

I sighed in relief. “Thanks,” I said, to Andrew, not Ethan. Ethan was long gone by then.

The class filled in the room for the last time. I really need to stop saying that phrase, I thought.

“Well, for our last class I chose the topic of all of the scandals and violence in Church history,” Andrew began.

“Why did you wait until now for that stuff?” a boy asked.

“I wanted you to hear about the beliefs of the Church first, before we got into this kind of thing. I want to leave a lasting impression on you and this topic is sure to do that,” Andrew answered.

A girl raised her hand and asked, “But isn't that the wrong kind of lasting impression? You want a good one, don't you?”

Andrew laughed, “Yes. Give me some time and you'll see.” We let him teach the class without further interruptions.

“I thought I'd begin with the Spanish Inquisition. This was an event started by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel of Spain. A Dominican friar convinced Isabel that many Jews who were baptized as Christians were not Christian at all. He had her convinced that they were faking. There were thousands upon thousands of trials for these Jews-turned-Christian. Many believe that thousands were killed , but in reality only 775 deaths were recorded.

“Pope Sixtus IV did what he could to stop it by prohibiting the Inquisition's extension to Aragon, saying 'Many true and faithful Christians, because of the testimony of enemies, rivals, slaves and other low people-and still less appropriate-without tests of any kind, have been locked up in secular prisons, tortured and condemned like relapsed heretics, deprived of their goods and properties, and given over to the secular arm to be executed, at great danger to their souls, giving a pernicious example and causing scandal to many.'1