Cragbridge Hall, Book One: The Inventor's Secret (3 page)

“His head was later placed on a stake near the Hampton River to warn all pirates,” Mr. Hendricks continued, pacing up the row. “The message was that the pirates had to change, or they could expect the same fate. Which brings me to one point of our orientation.” Mr. Hendricks pointed to a digital poster on the wall with a three-dimensional image of Blackbeard. A few of the fuses under his hat still burned. His cutlass was raised in front of him, his strong arm holding it forward. But he was also weak, injured. Beneath his determination, Abby could see surprise, and maybe even fear.

“I keep this picture on the wall to warn you. You do not want to be like Blackbeard. Sometimes bright young people believe they are above the rules. They think they can take advantage of the system. At times, they even delude themselves into thinking they should. Believe me, you are not above the system. If you break the rules of this academy or the rules of this class ...” Mr. Hendricks didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he ran his finger across his throat.

Abby froze in shocked silence. No one in the class made a sound.

After several moments of tension, Mr. Hendricks laughed. “That’s sign language for suspension or dismissal,” he teased. “Did you think I meant something else?”

Abby exhaled, and several other students did the same.

Mr. Hendricks gestured for the class to stay quiet. “But I’m not joking about suspension or dismissal. You must keep the rules. And for you to keep the rules, I’d better make sure you understand them.”

As Mr. Hendricks went through the rules, Abby took copious notes. She knew most of them from the virtual orientation tour, but rewrote them to make sure they were seared into her memory. Breakfast was at 7a.m. sharp. Each of their seven classes began on the hour, starting at eight, with a one-hour lunch at eleven. Those in the higher grades ate at noon. If tardy or truant, students received two warnings before detention. After three detentions, they would be suspended. If the problem continued, they may be expelled. The highest penalties would be enforced against cheating.

The library, the commons, and even the gym and the fields were all open areas after school if not occupied by a team. Students had to pass through several levels of security as they entered, both to keep the students safe and because of the great inventions at Cragbridge Hall. This meant that students could leave the school grounds only with permission and on special occasions. Dinner was at 6:00, curfew at 9:00. All students had to be in their rooms by curfew. Lights would be turned off and doors locked at 10:00.

Abby looked over at Derick, who hadn’t even turned on his rings. She hated his excellent memory. He didn’t take many notes about anything. She had to read, study, and pound information into her brain, while her twin brother often glanced over the textbook the night before and still got the class high on a test. She never scored higher than he did.

“Any questions?” After Mr. Hendricks waited an uncomfortably long time, he continued. “That is it for orientation. You’ll return here for first period tomorrow morning, and I’ll go over another set of rules.”

Abby thought she could feel the class weighed down by the drudgery of the regulations.

“You will need to follow those rules meticulously when it is your turn to use ... the Bridge.” The general feeling quickly changed as excited noises spread through the room like wildfire. They were going to get a chance to control the world-famous device that had just allowed them to see a pirate battle.

3

Jacqueline

"So,” Abby said, seeing that Derick had finished his conversation with a few other boys. “What do you think?” She felt grateful to know one person in the room. At least she had someone to wait for.

“Incredible,” Derick answered. He waved good-bye to his new friends, and the twins walked out of the history room, into a great hallway. The ceilings were several stories high, and a long sunroof let in the twilight.

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “I don’t think this place could be any more amazing.”

“Sure it could,” Derick said, one eyebrow cocked between his dark hair and blue eyes. Abby knew a joke was coming. “They could let us paint murals on the walls and give us all amusement parks, and x-ray vision... Oh! And pet dragons.”

Abby hit Derick—not a full-blown punch, but not just a playful kidding around hit, either. It was a hit only a sister could give and not be considered abusive. “You’re so weird,” she said.

They passed a series of digital images posted on the wall like paintings. Abby guessed they all portrayed Shakespearean plays—
Romeo and Juliet
,
Julius Caesar.
The last one showed a man in a large storm. Abby didn’t recognize it.

“But I’m right,” Derick responded. “I’d love a fire breather or a dragon that could become invisible and turn people to stone with its tail. You’d probably have a little pink dragon with rainbow scales that spit flowers and cried candy hearts.”

Abby hit Derick again. How could he come up with funny things to say so quickly?

“Always resorting to violence,” Derick said. “You’re lucky I don’t have my dragon yet.” There it was again. Did he even have to try to be funny? Abby could sometimes come up with something witty, but by that point she’d missed the chance to say it.

Derick pushed open the large doors, and they left the Hall—the building that housed the history classes, the commons, and the cafeteria. It’s official name was Cragbridge Hall and was the original building of the entire school. As the school grew, other buildings were added, but the entire academy kept the name. They walked down the steps and onto a path surrounded by grass fields and shrubs carved into a variety of shapes. One shrub looked like a bear on its hind legs, and another was trimmed to look like Abraham Lincoln.

“Well,” Derick finally said, pointing down the path to the left, “I guess I should head to the boys’ dorm—unpack and stuff.” He waved good-bye. “Try not to do anything too stupid. I’m your twin, so people assume things.”

There was something in his smile, or maybe in his eyes, that made Abby think he wasn’t completely joking. “Thanks,” Abby said. “Your confidence is inspiring.”

“I lift people,” Derick said sarcastically. “It’s what I do.” He headed down the other sidewalk.

Abby slowed her pace as she watched him go. She didn’t know how Derick could seem so casual about living away from home for the first time. They were at the premiere secondary school of the world—the pressure was on. He should be nervous. Then again, Derick succeeded at everything.

It wouldn’t have been so completely annoying if he wasn’t her twin. He hadn’t lived longer. He hadn’t attended a different school. She had no excuses. The truth of the matter was, they both had the same experiences in life—same family, same school, even the same vacations—yet he outdid her at everything.

Abby made her way to the younger girls’ dorm on the other side of the playing field and raised her hand at the scanner as she approached. She couldn’t feel it, but she knew it was doing its work. She didn’t even have to slow down before the doors opened.

Ninth graders were busily talking in the halls on the first floor. There were hugs and squeals as girls reunited after the summer break. They didn’t have to attend the orientation, so some were just arriving, suitcases dragged behind them. Abby looked at the smiles, braids, pressed skirts, beads, sandals, and boots. She suddenly became self-conscious about her jeans and fitted T-shirt. Abby saw every shade of skin, and guessed the girls came from all over the globe. They all looked so mature and ready for the world.

It took Abby a moment to reorient herself. She had only been in the building once before to drop off her luggage. She opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator chute. Sure, the chute would bring her to both her floor and then across to her room, but she wanted to stretch her legs and look around. She peeked out of the stairwell to look at the second floor—more of the same crowded hallways.

Abby continued up to the third floor, her new home. She tried not to think about the house she grew up in, which was less than a half-hour drive away, and Grandpa’s house, less than a mile away. She didn’t want to feel the pangs of homesickness, not on the first day.

She pushed the door open and stepped onto the third floor. It was different from the lower two stories. There were a few loud conversations, but the seventh graders were definitely quieter than the eighth and ninth graders. Abby imagined most of the girls would be like her, not knowing anyone else.

Abby had to turn on her rings to check her room number: 326. As she walked down the hall, she heard a girl speaking to her mother. Abby thought about using her rings to sync up to her mother’s rings to talk to her, but decided against it. She had only been gone for a few hours. Syncing up now would look wimpy. Out of another room came some sort of syncopated music. Whatever it was, the lyrics were not in English. Eventually she approached her room. The door was partially open. She figured her new roommate was inside. Abby paused and took a deep breath. She twisted her hair into a ponytail, then tapped her knuckles on the door as she entered.

A girl with long, black hair that fell flat and shiny down to her shoulders turned around. She was unloading one of five suitcases opened on the floor and bed. That was three more than Abby had.

The girl held a skirt and a hanger. “Hello?”

“Hi! I’m Abby. I guess we’re roommates.”

“Oh.” Her smile revealed perfect teeth several shades whiter than was naturally possible. “I’m Jacqueline.” Her voice was filled with energy. She surveyed Abby from bangs to sandals, a head-to-toe evaluation. “Nice to meet you.” She offered a hug. Abby accepted, though it felt incredibly awkward. “So, tell me about yourself,” Jacqueline said.

“What do you want to know?” Abby had no idea where to start.

“Where are you from?” Jacqueline asked.

The girls exchanged answers. Jacqueline was from New Hampshire. “So what did you do to get into Cragbridge?” Jacqueline asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” Jacqueline answered. “Aside from grades and citizenship, they look for the whole ‘ambitious youth,’ thing—‘trying to excel and to contribute to the world.’”

“Um,” Abby hesitated. What could she say?

“Okay, I’ll go first,” Jacqueline said. “I was a student body officer, and I played cello in the New Hampshire Youth Orchestra.” She spoke and moved with a poise and grace that surprised Abby. “But my real claim to fame is that I have my own fashion line—Jaq-L. Have you heard of it?”

“Of course I have,” Abby blurted out. She had seen it on several teen-based sites. She’d heard it was designed by a girl her age, but she never imagined she would be roommates with her. “I think one of my tops is a Jaq-L.”

“That’s fantastic!” Jacqueline sifted through her suitcase and picked out a red shirt, which had layers around the neck that draped down in different levels. “Here, have this one. It should be about your size.”

“Thank you!” Abby said, thrilled. “It’s beautiful.” She thought about asking Jacqueline to sign her new shirt, but wasn’t sure if it would just wash out. She could picture telling her friends back home about her roommate. They would be so jealous. Abby hung her new shirt on a hanger in the closet and turned to her packed suitcases.

“I’m glad you like it,” Jacqueline said. “So what about you? How are you ‘excelling and contributing to the world’?”

Abby pulled her Cragbridge blazer from her case. “What? Oh. I do okay in school. I’m decent at track. And I was part of a service club.” It all sounded so ordinary coming out of her mouth.

“You’re just being modest. ‘Okay’ and ‘decent’ don’t get anyone into Cragbridge.”

Abby looked at her jacket, slowly threading the hanger into its sleeves. “Hopefully I’m a bit better than okay.” She placed the jacket on the rack, wondering if she deserved to have it. “My twin brother is here, though,” Abby tried to change the subject, “and he is a genius. Perfect grades. Aces every test. He designed a virtual program that supposedly could train him to be a samurai. He wants to market it to the video game crowd. He’s done it all.”

“He sounds great. I’d love to meet him.”

Hoping to keep the conversation away from her, Abby asked if Jacqueline had brothers. Then she asked about the rest of Jacqueline’s family, her business, and her future. She even asked if Jacqueline had left a special boy back in her hometown.

“You still haven’t answered
my
question,” Jacqueline said. “What makes you special? We’re roommates. We’re destined to be best friends and know everything about each other. You might as well just come out with it.” She sat on her bed, gazing at Abby, ready to listen.

She had a point. She would find out sooner or later.

Abby clenched her teeth for a moment. “I’m not like my brother. I don’t have a list of accomplishments.” She exhaled slowly. “I’m just average.”

“Whatever.” Jacqueline stood and hung up another skirt. “So do I have to guess?” When Abby didn’t respond, Jacqueline kept on going, “You probably like invented some new math formula and run a four-minute mile.”

“No,” Abby said quietly. “I didn’t even get straight As. And I couldn’t break any team records. Well, I got close to one, but that’s it.”

“You’re just holding back.”

“Part of me wishes I was ... or were, or however you say that,” Abby said. “But I’m here, and I’m hoping to keep up.”

Jacqueline looked at her for a moment, gave a half-smile and turned back to her clothes. As she put the second shoulder of a blouse on a hanger, her hand slipped, and the shirt fell. It landed on top of Abby’s suitcase. “Sorry about that,” Jacqueline said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Abby said.

When Jacqueline picked up the shirt, she noticed Abby’s name on the suitcase tag. “Your last name is Cragbridge?” She pointed at the tag.

“Yeah,” Abby said.

“Are you related to
the
Oscar Cragbridge?”

Part of Abby did
not
want to answer. She loved her grandfather dearly, but she didn’t want to be known as just the inventor’s granddaughter. She wanted to stand on her own. Abby wanted to change the topic, but could see no way around it. Jacqueline would find out sooner or later. “Yes, I am.”