Everwood Academy

It was a cool Sunday morning; the crisp, chill pre-November air nipping at my cheeks and bare ankles. The oak trees lining the front drive were turning orange, preparing for the oncoming decay of winter that would soon pull their beautiful leaves down to the sidewalks and paved streets, where passerby would then stomp all over them in their designer shoes, completely destroying the beauty that those small, detailed pieces of nature had once held. Neatly trimmed hedges formed the barrier of the smooth brick sidewalk, spread out in even, nice rows along the wrought-iron fence surrounding the campus. The iron archway in the center of the fence was tall, large white lettering spelling out two single words along the top, while below, a man in a suit held open the heavy gate, a smile upon his wrinkled face. There were already people entering the large, wooden school doors, their smiles bright and chatter an uproar as they carried their bags into the glorious building, their families crying as they followed them inside. Limousines and fancy, chrome vehicles were lining the parking lot on the left side, looking lavish compared to our beat-up mini van, parked crooked in the drive.

I had begged my father to park a few blocks away, that way we could avoid the embarrassment of showing up to such an establishment in a run-down van. But, despite my disapproval, he pulled into the drive just like everyone else and parked right behind a shiny silver Porsche. Once he cut the engine, he turned to me, ignoring my glare, and gave me one cheesy smile before hopping out onto the pavement in his Bermuda shorts.

Not only were the cars beautiful, painted sleek, extravagant colors, but so were the students climbing out of them. Each was unique, yet gorgeous in their own way. Instantly, I knew that fitting in at Everwood was going to be way harder than I had originally thought.

A small, pretty girl with a flower headband in her golden hair opened the door to the Porsche in front of our family’s van, climbing out and tattering onto the sidewalk beside my siblings and I. She looked over at me, a smile taking over her delicate features before retreating to the small, compact trunk.

I held my duffel bag close to my side, my small hands grasped tight around the strap draped across my shoulder. Beside me, Jackson and Amelia were lugging their own suitcases out of the back of the van, groaning as they tugged and pulled, struggling to get the bags out from under each other.

I, on the other hand, could not keep my eyes off of the girl unloading her bags. She already had three to four suitcases on the sidewalk, and was continuing to pull out more. Her long, blonde hair was stick-straight, touching just a few mere inches above the hem of her white skirt.

I sighed, glancing down at my quivering hands. My luggage looked miniscule compared to the girl in front of me, and immediately, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong at such an elite, top-of-the-charts boarding school. I didn’t belong at Everwood Academy, and I knew it. To be honest, none of us did; not Jackson, not Mia, and especially not me.

The only reason we were here, at Everwood Academy, preparing to move into the dorm rooms that we would be living in for the rest of our high school careers was because of my grandmother. She was wealthy, probably just as rich as the owners of the cars surrounding me in the lot, and loved us--her grandchildren--more than life itself. So after my father was fired from his job back in Colorado, we immediately set off for Grandma Cadwell, begging for both financial and moral support.

She was a dotty old lady, my grandmother was, with gray hair that she swore to us was really silver and a permanent smirk on her face. She was short, so short that my five feet and five and a half inches caused me to tower above her figure. But still, her heart was big enough for plenty. Grandma let dad, Jackson, Mia, and myself stay with her at her house in Manhattan for the whole summer, until finally, sometime in late July, she gave us the surprise of the lifetime. According to Grandma Cadwell, Everwood Academy, located on the west side of upper Manhattan was one of the top boarding schools in the country. So, with a giant wad of cash and a whole lot of love, she offered to pay our tuition at Everwood for the rest of our high school careers, as long as we promised to get good grades and eventually go to college.

So here we were, Jack, Mia, and myself, staring in agony as our father began to sob into his hairy forearm, the top of his head bald and shiny.

“It’s okay, daddy,” Mia stepped toward him, slinging a slender arm across his broad shoulders.

Even though seeing my grown-man of a father cry at a public place was rather embarrassing, I honestly felt bad for him. Our mother left us over ten years ago, leaving my father to take care of us for practically our entire lives. Taking care of three growing kids all by oneself had to be hard, and my dad did it well. He barely brought enough money home to put food on the table, yet still, through all the hard times, he was one of the best father’s a girl could ever ask for--Bermuda shorts and all. We were all our father had left. Besides Grandma Cadwell--who was so old and withered it was hard telling how long she had left--and his large, talkative parrot Pete, Jack, Mia, and I were basically our father’s life. He loved us more than anything in the world, and I knew that seeing us go, knowing that we were all growing up right before his eyes had to be one of the most difficult things a father could go through.

He continued to weep, his shoulders heaving softly with his wild cries. After a quiet groan, Jackson rolled his eyes, trudging toward our father.

“Come on, dad,” he said under his breath, rubbing his shoulders soothingly, “it’ll be alright.”

Slowly, he looked up, cheeks stained with tears, eyes bloodshot and glassy, “But you are my babies!” he cooed aloud.

At least a dozen faces cast confused glances in our direction, eyebrows raised at the grown man toppled over in a puddle of his own cries, his two youngest children surrounding him as the youngest stood off to the side.

I crossed my arms over my chest, turning away as tears began to well in my own eyes. Boarding school wasn’t like normal high school. Jack, Mia, and myself were going to be living at Everwood for the next few months. Of course, we were aloud family visits on weekends and holiday, but the whole reality of not being able to see my father or Grandma Cadwell or even smelly, annoying Pete was finally hitting me hard.

All I had ever wanted was a big break, a chance to, once and for all, break out of my sheltered little shell and enjoy life like I was meant to. I was nearing my seventeenth birthday, and still had yet to step even a centimeter into the real world. Life back home in Colorado was simple. I slept on that small, twin-sized air mattress every night in the room that Mia and I shared. In the mornings, I’d wake up with a smile on my face, get ready, then walk to school. Once at school, I would do exceptional in my classes, ignore all of the drama, and then, when the day was done, I’d come back home and prepare to start the routine all over again. I didn’t have many friends back at home. I normally just stayed by myself--it was just easier that way; not having to explain why my mom was never around, or why I never wanted people over at the house… let’s just say that keeping to myself was the only surreal option I had.

I wiped away stray tears from under my green eyes, biting my lip and tapping my foot impatiently against the sidewalk.

I could still hear Mia from behind me, trying her very best to calm my father, while I ignored the pain, ignored his unedifying emotions just like I did best. If Grandma Cadwell were to see me at that moment, standing there with my back turned away from my father as he cried over me, I knew exactly what she would say. You’re just like your mother, Spencer, I could almost hear her voice in my head, always running away from the problems, and giving up on everything you have ever imagined possible.

Just the thought of it brought more tears to my already-stinging eyes. But then I remembered, I wasn’t like my mother; I wasn’t like her at all. My mother had been blonde, her hair a mix between gold and a light, coppery color, and her eyes were brown, not green. She was short, wavering at a measly five feet and two inches, with a petite frame. I was rather tall compared to other girls my age, and had barely any curvature to my body. Besides, my mother was a coward. She left us so many years ago, and hasn’t said more than a “happy birthday” since. I wasn’t a coward. I wasn’t scared. I faced my fears; I dealt with the challenges of life, no matter how hard they were. I was strong, and that was exactly why I was here. Instead of spending my time mourning and crying over my lack of a mother-figure, or whining over how much better the other kids’ toys were than my own, I stayed calm.

I was at Everwood Academy, for Christ’s sake. And I was going to do something here, at this school, that my mother could only have dreamed possible; I was going to be myself.

Finally, I turned on my heels, making my way to my father, who had began to regain his composure. Mia looked up as I approached, meeting my eyes before smiling lightly.

I smiled back at her, spreading my arms open wide as I came up to my sobbing father, wrapping my slender limbs around him in a tight, warming hug.

“I love you, dad,” I said to him softly. I felt the eyes on me; possibly dozens of pairs of eyes looking straight at me as I hugged my father like I meant it for the first time in several years. But I didn’t care. I was doing what I thought was right; what made me, as a person, proud. And ultimately, that was all that mattered.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered into my hair as he slowly gained back his calm and serene composure, kissing me softly on the forehead as his arms wrapped tight around my slender body.

I let my raven-head fall onto his shoulder, knowing for a fact that my salty tears would dampen his clothes as I said softly again, feeling his large hands caress my back, “I’m going to miss you.”

I felt him nod before he pulled away from me, staring down at me with a wide, bright smile, the corners of his mouth nearly touching his ears.
“I will miss you too, Spence,” he said softly.

He pulled away from me in slow, considerate movements before finally shoving his hands back into the pockets of his Bermuda shorts.

As an awkward silence filled the air, the only sounds being the constant chatter and cries of other families surrounding our still positions, I found my time to gather my luggage into my arms and finally, everything coming to me at once, I turned to face my future.

The building standing before us was unlike anything I had ever seen. The brick walkways beneath my sneakers were smooth, the wrought-iron gate lining the walk over five feet tall.

Slowly, a smile took over my features. This is it, I thought silently to myself, my happiness and excitement unbearable, I am really here.

“Dad,” Jack said from behind me, his voice sounding quiet--as if he were taken aback, “are you sure Grams didn’t ship us to Hogwarts?”

Mia snorted at Jack’s remark, as I only continued to stare at the glorious structure before my very eyes.

Jack was right, from our position, Everwood Academy had a very strange resemblance to the fictional school Hogwarts in the Harry Potter series. Yet the beauty and realism of it was remarkable. Rather Everwood looked like a school of witchcraft and wizardry or not, it was the most beautiful place I had ever seen.

“Are you kids ready to go in?” I barely heard my father’s voice as his hand rested on my shoulder.

My eyes were still wide on the school, gaze transfixed on seemingly everything; from the terraces, to the large windows, to the neatly trimmed hedges lining the walks… it was as if my eyes couldn’t figure out what to look at. It was all too glamorous, too glorious, too breathtaking for a ragged girl like myself.

But, despite my hesitation, I managed to mumble a quiet “yes”, before following my siblings and disheveled father into the large, wooden doors that looked like the entrance to heaven; yet, without my knowledge, just so happened to be my very own highway to Hell.

Looks like Everwood Academy is about to meet it’s match.