Lost in Thought: First Book of the Sententia

Chapter 4

She was a professional though, and as I worked through my lunch, she gave me a brief history of the school, most of which I’d heard in the Admissions building the first day, but I listened politely anyway. She moved on to how glad they were to have me—actually, she mentioned that one several times—emphasized her high expectations for me, and commented on how impressed she was with my worldliness, as she called it. I wasn’t entirely sure if she meant it as a compliment. She touched very briefly on my “medical concerns” and assured me that the school would do everything it could to help me. Then she threw a curve ball.

“There’s a long-standing tradition of student cooperation here at Northbrook,” she intoned. This seemed both obvious to me and also ominous. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at. “Each student performs four hours of service at the school per week—your assignments will be determined next week—and a team activity is compulsory each semester. Do you have any preferences, or any areas of sports expertise?”

For a moment, I was excited. I liked the idea of service to the school and I hoped to get back to my regular martial arts practices, one of the things I would miss most about my change in lifestyle. “I’ve taken martial arts since I was a kid, actually!” I told her. “I’m a brown belt in kickboxing and a blue belt in karate.”

My excitement deflated with her frown. “That’s wonderful,” she said, though her tone implied exactly the opposite of wonderful. “However, we focus more on cooperative sports…You’re rather tall, so I thought perhaps basketball?” she added hopefully.

I panicked a little, not wanting to be a disappointment at my very first meeting with the headmaster, but team sports and I were practically complete strangers.

“I’ve never had much chance to play basketball, but I’m willing to try?” I ended my sentence like a question but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to please this woman, so she wouldn’t make me run from the room like that poor eighth grader on the stairs. And, I admitted to myself, so she wouldn’t tell me my Legacy was an accident and send me packing three days after I arrived. As nervous as I was about this whole staying-in-one-place thing, now that I had it, I was surprised that I wanted it more than anything.

But my panic was not necessary, this time anyway. We determined that my “unique upbringing might not have been conducive to traditional team activities” and I learned the compulsory team requirements were not quite as cruel as I thought. There were all kinds of “teams,” including musical ensembles, ballet troupes, creative writing groups, debate clubs, and even a media production team. In the end, I was enlisted for the team sport that had the most individual performances: the swim team. A quick call to the athletic office had me scheduled for my first practice the next morning.

After a few more assurances that the school was “so delighted to have me” and that they were “certain I was going to be a valuable member of the student body,” my meeting with the headmaster was over. As I hitched my bag over my shoulder and was about to leave, Dr. Stewart said two things that, at the time, I assumed were separate thoughts, and I didn’t take either for very important. Not until much later I would realize I’d been wrong on both counts.

“I know your class books were delivered for you, but I’m sure you’d love to visit the bookstore yourself,” she suggested. “We’re lucky to have it as a benefit to Northbrook.” I nodded and turned to go, but as I opened the door she added in a light tone incongruous with the serious look on her face, “This is a special school, Lainey. We can’t wait to see what special part you’ll be.”

When classes ended for the afternoon, I decided to do as the headmaster suggested and check out the bookstore. I had plenty of homework, sure, but about the only thing I liked more than shopping for books was shopping for vintage books. Turned out I was in luck.