The Girls of Stone House

monday

*this part has been restored to its original version.*

I was packing up and my clothes were struggling to fit in my suitcase. My footman ran into the room to give me a five-minute warning.

"Okay, okay!" I snapped at him. I forced my suitcase shut, and he began helping me with my luggage. I stepped back and stared at it for a moment: Two big suitcases, a blanket, my bathroom bag, and a pillow. How could my life be so small?

The footman and I walked out of the room. He told another staff to go get the rest of my things and I waited outside the car for my parents. They wanted to say goodbye.

My house was midsize, on a plot of land way past the city. We lived in our ancestral home, not a factory-made little box. It looked menacing from the outside-but I called the old mahogany floors and chandeliers home. 

My parents came out, my mom wearing a casual housedress and my father with his collar unbuttoned as he was just at home for the day. My mom cried as she hugged me goodbye. She smelled like oranges. My dad and I did our secret handshake, and then he pulled out a book and handed it to me.

It was red leather, worn and untitled. It was older than him.

"Katie," he said. "This was your grandmother's. She wrote about meeting your grandfather and how they fell in love and ran away from the war. I hope you read it, it's beautiful. I just...want you to do something. I was hoping Nani's story might inspire you."

"The girl is going to have enough pressure without having to change the world at fifteen," my mom snapped.

"That's not what I meant-"

"--I know what you mean," I mumbled just to end the conversation. Dad looked at me with an age-old twinkle in his blue eyes.

"You will," he said.

I flung my arms around him. I wore the Heartwood Academy uniform-a green plaid skirt and blazer set. I wore the school's white hoodie over it.

"Mom," I said. I hugged her tightly.

"I'm afraid I don't have any proverbs," my mom said. She was short even for a woman, her hair in perfect curls.

"Just have fun. Do your homework, but have fun!"

"Okay," I laughed through my tears.

I got in the car and the chauffeur, a young and handsome man, drove me away. I was going to Heartwood Academy in New Hampshire. But I had the feeling I was going somewhere else.

A few hours later we arrived at the school. It looked like Hogwarts or something. it was essentially a castle with all the trappings: Gargoyles and a stone courtyard, Gothic carvings. It was beautiful like a movie set. I drank it in as my footman unloaded the luggage. I wondered what would happen. I planned it: I wanted to Focus on English, get into Wellesley, and finally make something of myself. I didn't want to live off the family fortune forever. My family was well-to-do, but not wealthy. We didn't own a private yacht and had only one vacation house. My father raised me with a work ethic, not as a budding trophy wife.

It was still cloudy, and the wind blew the orange leaves off a tree. I loved the fall. I breathed in the New England air and we walked inside to the entrance hall. There was no one in there, but the doors to Heartwood Hall were open, and I followed the sound of voices.

Suddenly I was in the throng of girls shouting at each other, hugging, complimenting each other's outfits, and asking about summers. Sophomores and freshmen arrived today, September 1. Juniors and Seniors had already been there for a week before us.