Harcourt Academy

I sat down at the dinner table, and began to eat. My parents exchanged nervous glances; the first sign that something was up. Dad cleared his throat.

“Kathryn,” he started, obviously nervous. “You know how we are going to be moving further down state? Well, we don’t know how long we will be actually living there.”

I looked up from the mash potatoes that I has been serving myself, and stared at my father. “ So…where would we be going?” I asked. Mom and dad had announced that we would be moving the first day of summer vacation. I had been upset, but I, two and a half months later, was over it. The house we were moving into was nice, I had been promised the attic room, with a bathroom to myself.

“Well, you see Kathryn, my boss has offered me an amazing job opportunity, but it involves moving around. A lot. Every six months.”

“ What?” I said. “ You actually expect me to move every six months? I cant switch schools every half year, that—” Mother cut me off in the middle of my little tirade with something even more shocking then moving every six months.

“ No. We don’t expect you to switch schools every six months. That is why you are attending a boarding school.” Her mother handed mea manila folder willed with various forms and brochures for the school. The words Harcourt Academy for Excelling Students were scrawled at the top of one flashy pamphlet in gold lettering. The name sounded familiar, although I could not place it. As I read through some of the paragraphs advertising ‘top education’ which really meant ‘top dollar,’ Mother explained how I had gotten a partial scholarship due to my record in English and the Arts.

“ Wait,” I said. “Doesn’t Keith go to this school?” Dad nodded. Well, that made the situation a bit better. I had not seen Keith in what seemed like forever, because he had started going to Harcourt Academy last year. He said it was because the collage he wanted to go to had a high acceptance rate form Harcourt. “ But Keith goes to school in England…” I said, trailing off, the full effect of my words hitting me. “England? Im going to school in bloody England?” Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against England, and I have hard that it is a beautiful place, but believe me, it is a long way from home. A long way.

“Look, you have picked up some local slang already!” Dad joked.

“Not funny, dad. I have been saying bloody ever since I was ten years old, you know that.”

“Well, we know how much you enjoy the Arts and different cultures, and is just so happens that Harcourt has a great acting program, along with a widely know choir. We thought that Harcourt would be the best place for you to go. That is why you are leaving. On Saturday.”

“ Saturday!” I cried, furious that my parents would spring this upon me so suddenly, “ But that is in two days!”

“ It sure is, young lady. You better start packing,” Dad handed me the manila folder. I took it, spun on the heel of my white- clad foot, and walked upstairs

“Moving can be a good thing,” Samuel said, leaning against a post of the fence I was pacing on top of. I was fuming. How could they do this to me? I was in my sophomore year at the local public school, and they just uproot my and stick me into some preppy rich school for spoiled brats. Of course, I am sure there were people who weren’t snobs, but still, I was not looking forward to being thrust head first into a school where all that counted was how much money you had in your back pocket and how much your baby pink cashmere sweater cost. My foot slipped, and Samuel’s arm shot out to steady me. I smiled down at him, and continued pacing on the narrow whitewashed slats of the wooden fence.

“ I know it, but did it have to be a boarding school?” With a small leap I jumped off the fence and landed gracefully next to Samuel.

“It is the same school your brother attends, right? Doesn’t that make everything better?”

I nodded, and Samuel ruffled my red wavy red hair. I smiled at the brotherly gesture, and the fact that he knew my brother attended the same school, which made the situation is was tossed into seem a whole lot better. Samuel never needed me to tell him anything, he always just knew; I suppose he let me rant to him because he new that it made me feel better.

I first met Samuel when I was very little, probably around four years old. I was at the mall, and was behind my mother on the escalator going up to the second floor. Mother was scolding Keith for something, when I had decided that jumping off the escalator’s edge while over half way to the second floor looked like fun. It was a situation that would have ended with my certain death, but Samuel was at the bottom of the escalator’s side, and he plucked me from the air. I had smiled up at him from my cradle in his arms, and he had grinned down at the fearless, venturesome look gleaming in my green eyes.

“ Don’t do that again,” he had scolded gently. “Go up to your mommy now,” He put me on the first stair of the escalator and I had scrambled up the rest until I reached a stair a few down from my still lecturing mother. I looked back down to where I last saw Samuel, and I was just in time for me to see him wink at me with one blue eye, wave, and disappear into a nearby crowd.

I snapped out of my thoughts of the past and looked at Samuel. “ Why did you catch me?” I asked. He blinked and shrugged nonchalantly.

“ I always catch you,” he said. I shook my head.

“You know what I mean. When I was four. The first time I met you. When I was four. Why did you catch me?”

“ That wasn’t the first time I ‘caught’ you,” he said. “ When you were still crawling, you crawled off your blanket on the grass and decided to pick up rocks in the middle of the dirt road. A car almost ran over you. I picked you up first.”

“ I didn’t know that,” I said, blinking. “ But don’t change the subject. Why did you catch me?”

“ You needed help. My help. Why wouldn’t I catch you?’ I shrugged, and Samuel smiled.

“You better start packing, little Kass, if you are going to be ready to leave in two days. Well, no it is more like one and a half.”

“ I am not that little. I’m still growing! Besides, five foot five isn’t that short. And age- wise, you are only what, five or six years older? Not that much!” I looked at the fading sun, and he slung an arm around my shoulders.

“ I know you don’t want to go. I know that it is hard, with new people, new buildings and new rooms.” I nodded. “ But I will always be here for you Kathryn,” he continued, “ Just like when you were little, I will always be there to keep you safe. Always.”

A/N

Here is the deal. I keep on writing, you review. Even if it is "Nice Story" review, or a " This story Sux" review. I just want some feedback, because then I know that people actually read my stuff. Plus it modivates me! Thank you! Next Chapter up very soon!