Emmy grinned. “Um, yeah.”
“Well, if you have any questions about how it all works, just ask. I play on the boys’ team, you know. Made it all the way to the East Anglian Finals last year. Now, there are ten players on the field, excluding the keeper, of course, and—” Cadel was interrupted by the roar of the crowd; the teams had taken the pitch.
“Here, have some licorice.” Jack handed her some candy.
“Thanks, but I don’t really like licorice.”
Jack shoved it into her hand anyway. “Doesn’t matter, it’s good luck.”
Emmy ripped a piece off and dutifully chomped on it as the opening whistle blew.
The game was tense from the very first moments. Both teams were as good as any Emmy had played, and they obviously didn’t like each other. The atmosphere in the stands was electric, like the best matches she’d played back home. For the first time since she’d gotten here, something felt familiar: players yelling signals to each other, coaches screaming instructions, the scraping of cleats against grass and rubber. It was like getting a letter from home, one that was bitter and sweet at the same time. She didn’t belong in the stands; she belonged on the field. She should be the one calling out signals. It should be her cleats pounding the turf. When the Wellsworth striker scored in the eightieth minute, Emmy jumped up and down with the rest of the crowd, but she couldn’t help wishing she could do more than cheer.
It took a while for the crowd to file out after the match, which gave Cadel a lot of time to explain the game’s finer points. “You see, that St. Mary’s girl was offside because she was in front of the last defender when her midfielder passed her the ball. Her protest was totally unnecessary. I thought she…”
Somebody bumped into Jack and he grabbed on to Cadel so he wouldn’t fall. Then someone else bumped into Jack, and then a third person. All three boys snickered and kept walking up the stairs like nothing had happened.
“You okay?” Cadel asked.
Jack ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, no big deal.” His voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat.
“What was that about?” Emmy asked.
“Just a few blokes who don’t like me that much.”
Emmy looked at them. Brynn was there—he was the one who’d knocked Jack over—along with a couple other guys she’d seen before.
“I think all those guys are in the Latin Society.”
“Yup. I was in Latin Society as well.”
“Really?” That explained why Jack knew so much about it. “Why’d you leave?”
At first Jack didn’t say anything. “It just wasn’t for me.” He walked quickly up the stairs, Cadel following behind him. Emmy wanted to ask more questions, but she really didn’t know Jack that well. She didn’t want to seem nosy. But she couldn’t help but wonder what made Jack leave Latin Society, and why he couldn’t tell her about it.
CHAPTER 6
The Assignment
“Ugh, why do we have to walk all the way to the bloody library for humanities class today?” Lola asked.
Jack took a deep breath, and Emmy smothered a smile. Lola had been grumbling ever since they left the fine arts building, and it was definitely grating on Jack’s nerves.
“How is it that you’ll run for two hours straight at football practice, but you can’t walk an extra ten minutes without going on about it?” Jack asked.
“That’s just it,” Lola said as they trudged up another flight of stairs. “I ran for two hours last night, and now I’m tired.”
Jack shook his head and stuffed his earbuds into his ears.
“Have you played football for a long time?” Emmy asked.
Lola nodded. “I think my dad bought me a football while my mum was in labor. We go to matches every time I make it back to Glasgow.”
Emmy smiled, but she didn’t feel happy. She’d never know if her dad was a soccer fan.
“Do you play any sports?” Lola asked.
Emmy’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh, I used to.” She didn’t want to explain why her mom wouldn’t let her play. She didn’t understand it herself.
“I could never give it up,” Lola said. “Staring down a keeper, figuring where they’ll move next, hearing the crowd cheer—it just becomes part of you, know what I mean?”
Emmy did know what she meant. It made her chest ache to think about it.
“Plus, I get to bash people about without getting in trouble, which is great.” Lola winked, and Emmy laughed. Lola seemed like she’d be really fun to play with.
They walked past the giant oak doors that led to the Hall and through the narrow passageway that hitched the strange library tower onto the main building. They threw their bags down and sat at the nearest table just as Master Barlowe walked in. He crouched down beside the table and smiled at Emmy.
“I wanted to check in with you before class started. How are you getting on at Wellsworth so far?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“I hear you joined the Latin Society. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think your time might be better spent in one of the humanities disciplines, like the Anglo-Saxon or Shakespeare Societies. Shall I speak to Master Larraby about transferring you?”
“Oh, uh…” Emmy wasn’t a fan of Latin Society, but at least it gave her a quiet place to catch up on work. She didn’t really want to give that up. “Madam Boyd really wanted me in Latin Society, so I think I’d better stick with it.”
Barlowe smiled, but he looked a little disappointed. “All right, well, let me know if you change your mind. Latin Society isn’t for everyone.” He turned away, and Emmy frowned. That was two teachers who had tried to convince her to leave Latin Society.
“All right, let’s get started,” Barlowe said to the class. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’re meeting in the library today.”
Lola muttered something inaudible, and Emmy shook her head. Lola definitely had a hard time keeping her feelings to herself.
“We’ve been talking about the Dissolution of the Monasteries,” Barlowe said. “I trust by now you all know what a critical part it played in British history. Who can tell me one of the reasons why the dissolution was so important?”
The room was quiet. Finally, Natalie raised her hand. “The king made himself the head of the Church of England?”
“Correct,” Barlowe said. “That meant he could take all the church’s property, assets, and artifacts for himself. Many clergy who resisted were executed, and many priceless artifacts were lost or destroyed.