"She loves me."
"She loves me not."
"She loves me."
"She loves me, not."
A teenage girl sat on the wall not to far down from me, ripping petals off of daisies a little forlornly. I did not envy her the drama of teenage love, when everything seems so important and so right now that it feels like it will break you if it isn't all just so.
"....not."
She sighed, and got up, brushing off her dress. Green, like new leaves, but simple. She twirled her hair up into a loose pineapple bun, and made off, likely to her next class, but just before she reached the door she stopped, a huge smile on her face as another girl walked over, excited like a puppy. I suspected the feelings were mutual if not yet expressed as she grabbed her hand, and they both ran off toward the garden instead. Skipping class. That, unfortunately, meant I'd have to go stop them.
I sighed, got up, and brushed off my own skirts. Then I made my way after them, hoping I could convince them it was in their best interest to go to class.
But I couldn't find them. Anywhere.
I knew these gardens well. I could walk them in my sleep. My mother had been a teacher here before me, and her mother before her. I'd gone gone to Miss Carnegie's Finishing School for Girls myself, just had the last four generation of women in my family. The school was ideal, because unlike many of the other finishing schools, the girls also took advanced science, math, philosophy, and language courses. Carnegie Girls were bluestockings, and quite proud of it, ad their families tended to be the sort who were as well.
I heard the bell ring and realized I'd be late to teach my own class if I didn't return, and a bit perplexed made my way back.
That night, in my pajamas, I paced my room. I'd walked those gardens my whole life. There were no other entrances, and the walls were quite high. I guessed the girls could have climbed the walls, but in those dresses it was unlikely. Unless they'd stripped down to their petticoats and made a run for it, which was a possibility, but also highly unlikely. Either way, they would both suffer a weeks detention and now I had to find out if there was some other way in and out of the gardens we had missed.
The next morning, I awoke early, and made my way to the gardens. I searched every row, every wall. I looked behind ivy and for trees that were perhaps a bit to close to the wall for safety. Nothing. It seemed I was going to have to be a bit of a spy, and see if I could follow the girls to their destination.
It took two weeks of meandering for the right opportunity to arise. This time, I quietly followed the girls into the garden, being careful not to be seen. They walked and talked about the silly things that teenage girls often do, until they reached one of the patches of heavy ivy I had checked just that morning, moved it aside, and revealed a door.
I was shocked. I knew I had checked that ivy, but I scurried over to look again. Blank wall. Stone. Absolutely normal. While my mind raced, the academic took over, and I sat myself down directly in front of that ivy and waited.
It was nearly dinner before the ivy moved, the girls emerged, and looked absolutely horrified to see me there, arms crossed.
"Miss Dale." they said in unison, with a curtsy. As if manners would explain this away.
"Ladies. My office. Now."
Miss Elizabeth tried to explain the mechanics of it, but I had come to understand that Miss Emily had a bit of a gift. She could think doors and other entrances into existence. Not much of a talent, but incredibly useful for a teenage girl. She showed me by repeating the trick with both my wardrobe and a solid wall.
"Well, it's a bit early for this." I said, the two girls staring at me.
"But I guess you'll have to start your training earlier."
An with that, I pulled two books from the shelf, laying them on the table in front of them. Without laying a single hand on them, of course. My mother was an excellent practitioner.
"Carnegie girls, you see, are special."
"She loves me not."
"She loves me."
"She loves me, not."
A teenage girl sat on the wall not to far down from me, ripping petals off of daisies a little forlornly. I did not envy her the drama of teenage love, when everything seems so important and so right now that it feels like it will break you if it isn't all just so.
"....not."
She sighed, and got up, brushing off her dress. Green, like new leaves, but simple. She twirled her hair up into a loose pineapple bun, and made off, likely to her next class, but just before she reached the door she stopped, a huge smile on her face as another girl walked over, excited like a puppy. I suspected the feelings were mutual if not yet expressed as she grabbed her hand, and they both ran off toward the garden instead. Skipping class. That, unfortunately, meant I'd have to go stop them.
I sighed, got up, and brushed off my own skirts. Then I made my way after them, hoping I could convince them it was in their best interest to go to class.
But I couldn't find them. Anywhere.
I knew these gardens well. I could walk them in my sleep. My mother had been a teacher here before me, and her mother before her. I'd gone gone to Miss Carnegie's Finishing School for Girls myself, just had the last four generation of women in my family. The school was ideal, because unlike many of the other finishing schools, the girls also took advanced science, math, philosophy, and language courses. Carnegie Girls were bluestockings, and quite proud of it, ad their families tended to be the sort who were as well.
I heard the bell ring and realized I'd be late to teach my own class if I didn't return, and a bit perplexed made my way back.
That night, in my pajamas, I paced my room. I'd walked those gardens my whole life. There were no other entrances, and the walls were quite high. I guessed the girls could have climbed the walls, but in those dresses it was unlikely. Unless they'd stripped down to their petticoats and made a run for it, which was a possibility, but also highly unlikely. Either way, they would both suffer a weeks detention and now I had to find out if there was some other way in and out of the gardens we had missed.
The next morning, I awoke early, and made my way to the gardens. I searched every row, every wall. I looked behind ivy and for trees that were perhaps a bit to close to the wall for safety. Nothing. It seemed I was going to have to be a bit of a spy, and see if I could follow the girls to their destination.
It took two weeks of meandering for the right opportunity to arise. This time, I quietly followed the girls into the garden, being careful not to be seen. They walked and talked about the silly things that teenage girls often do, until they reached one of the patches of heavy ivy I had checked just that morning, moved it aside, and revealed a door.
I was shocked. I knew I had checked that ivy, but I scurried over to look again. Blank wall. Stone. Absolutely normal. While my mind raced, the academic took over, and I sat myself down directly in front of that ivy and waited.
It was nearly dinner before the ivy moved, the girls emerged, and looked absolutely horrified to see me there, arms crossed.
"Miss Dale." they said in unison, with a curtsy. As if manners would explain this away.
"Ladies. My office. Now."
Miss Elizabeth tried to explain the mechanics of it, but I had come to understand that Miss Emily had a bit of a gift. She could think doors and other entrances into existence. Not much of a talent, but incredibly useful for a teenage girl. She showed me by repeating the trick with both my wardrobe and a solid wall.
"Well, it's a bit early for this." I said, the two girls staring at me.
"But I guess you'll have to start your training earlier."
An with that, I pulled two books from the shelf, laying them on the table in front of them. Without laying a single hand on them, of course. My mother was an excellent practitioner.
"Carnegie girls, you see, are special."
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