Preparatory
New York City
The view from his room in the New York Preparatory School was not nearly as appealing as the one in his study at home, which was actually quite helpful when it came time for Charlie to complete his assignments. Despite Walter’s constant invitations, he generally chose to stay indoors and do his work, even during the times when the young men were allowed to go outside and have a bit of fun in the yard. Today in particular, he was much more apt to stay inside and finish his history assignment. The temperature was near freezing and there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. However, Walter was persistent, and for some reason, Charlie decided that the only way he was ever going to stop Walter’s pestering was to finally give in and head outdoors, promising himself he’d only stay for a bit and would head back in as soon as he possibly could.
Though his school didn’t have a football team, one of the other young men was fond of the sport and always had a ball handy. Walter’s promise that Teddy was bringing the ball out today was about the only factor that had caused him to change his mind and join them. Nearly a dozen of his classmates were already out in the yard, bundled up with thick coats, gloves, scarfs, and hats to keep out the cold.
“Hey, look who it is!” Teddy yelled as they approached.
“Well, if it isn’t Charles Ashton himself!” another boy, Reginald, hollered.
“I want Charlie on my team,” came another voice. Though he was difficult to recognize behind the scarf, Charlie realized it had been Tim who had yelled out for him, and despite a bit of a kerfuffle with Teddy, Charlie soon found himself standing alongside Tim with Walter, Reginald, and a few other chaps.
“All right, Charlie,” Tim was saying, “You’re the fastest. I want you to go long, and I will throw it to you, right down the middle. All right?”
“What about me?” Walter asked before Charlie could even respond.
“You just make sure Charlie gets open,” Tim, a lankier boy who was nearly seventeen, insisted.
Though Walter didn’t seem to like that answer, he nodded, and the boys went to the line to start the play. Tim shouted a few numbers and then, “Hut! Hut!” and Charlie took off running. He easily skirted past Teddy, past the other boys as well, and then turned back to see if Tim had thrown the ball. He spied it over his right shoulder and brought it down, running until he’d passed the line Teddy had drawn in the snow to show the end zone.
His team cheered while the others groaned, and then Charlie was on defense and lined up to try to protect the other team from scoring.
The game went on for about twenty minutes, Charlie scoring once more and catching an interception. He was having such fun; he’d hardly thought about his studies at all. Tim sent him out for one more long pass. This time, Teddy seemed to know what he was about and attempted to sneak in and get the ball before Charlie could do so. In an attempt to outplay him, Charlie reached his hand out and knocked the ball up into the air. It teetered on his fingertips for a moment before bouncing up again. Teddy got a hand on it but only knocked it free once more. Charlie was certain he could rein it in this time. Just as he stretched his arm up to grab it, another hand shot out of nowhere and plucked it from the sky.
“I’ve got it!” a high pitched voice shouted, and Charlie turned to see a young lady running with the ball toward the elected end zone.
Teddy and Charlie stared at each other for a moment, absolutely dumbfounded, before they turned to see her run past the line and then raise the ball in the air, cheering.
Once Charlie had regained his composure enough to have a look around, he realized Mr. Founder, one of the instructors, and what appeared to be a potential scholar and his family, stood on the walkway a few steps behind where the girl had apparently come from.
“Stella!” the father shouted in a stern voice. “Put that down and get over here this instant!”
Stella, whose enthusiasm only seemed slightly abated, dropped her hands, cleared her throat, and then, taking a few steps in his direction, extended the ball. “Beg your pardon,” she said, her green eyes twinkling. “I believe this was intended for you.”
Charlie had never seen a lovelier face. Her skin looked so soft and smooth—it was as if it were made of porcelain. She had long dark eyelashes that matched the tufts of hair that peeked out from beneath her red winter hat. She must have been about his age, he was certain, and when his hand grazed hers, though it was surrounded by a thick, red mitten, he couldn’t help but feel as if a pulse of energy radiated from her fingers through his entire body.
“Th—thank you,” he stammered, his eyes wide.
She smiled, showing perfectly white, dazzling teeth, and then turned around to rejoin her family, who, despite the admonishment, didn’t seem quite as put out as many parents he knew might have been.
Mr. Founder continued with his tour, and the family disappeared into a nearby building shortly thereafter. It was only then that the group of gaping boys were able to voice their amazement at seeing such a young woman, there in their midst.
“Who was she?” Teddy finally got out.
“An angel,” Tim answered, standing next to the ball-owner.
“The devil!” Walter murmured, though his eyes were like saucers.
Charlie said nothing, but for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was no longer concerned about Mary Margaret Westmoreland and her inability to write letters.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
