Page 43 of All Saints: Pledge

We chat for a while about my classes. I convey the monumental pile that is my reading.

“I worry about you staying up so late every night. Are you taking care of yourself?”

My ankle falters on the uneven sidewalk, which puts me in the path of an oncoming bicycle. A whoosh of air gusts around me as the woman yells something at me in a British accident, the wheel of her tire grazing my bag. “Mom, I'm taking great care of myself. Everyone here has loads of studying. It's almost the end of term, anyhow. I'll get a few weeks off." Lies, all of it. Well, except the studying. It's why the libraries are twenty-four hour institutions.

“Are you sure you can't come home for Christmas?”

“It's just too expensive.” As it is, my check from the last test is just barely going to cover my books and food for this term. “I'll be home in the summer.” Probably. Maybe. Possibly. “How is empty nest life? Have you taken up cribbage yet?”

“Your Dad and I have been using our evenings to go through your grandma’s things. We should have done this years ago, when she died. We thought Grandpa had done some of the work, but it’s clear now that neither one got rid of anything before they died. Can I send you pictures in case there's anything you want to keep?”

My heart quickens at the mention of my grandparents. "Oh, yeah sure. Hey, speaking of, did you know that Grandpa went here?"

There's a long silence. “Yes,” she says, finally. “I did. Well, your father knew, at any rate, and told me recently. Your grandmother went there as well, in fact.”

I stop dead in my tracks, earning me another angry bell ring from a cyclist. “And you didn't tell me?” I pull out my fob and hold it up to the big wooden door in the stone wall to my left.

“There isn't much to tell. I gather he had a terrible experience there, and didn't enjoy talking about it.”

“And Grandma?”

“You know she never went against your grandfather’s wishes.”

I want to shake my fist at the sky. “You don’t know what happened?”

She sighs. “Your Dad doesn't know much either. Your grandpa forbade him from going—anyone in the family—but it just... after he died it seemed like a silly grudge to uphold. He always said he was protecting you from the worst sort in the world. He really hated the Brits, especially for a man who married one. They never visited England once after emigrating. But just look at how wrong he was. You’re doing wonderfully there.”

I stop just outside my door. Given the All Saints pin on his lapel in the picture, his concerns seem a little more pointed.

My mom gives a laugh. “Don’t take it too seriously, hon. Your grandfather was borderline paranoid. For a long time, he asked to look at your school rosters. We always thought he was just doting on you, that and he didn’t like the American school system. But your Dad thinks he was making sure no Brits were in your class. Odd or not, he was a wonderful man. I don’t want to color your memories of him with this stuff.”

My stomach drops again. “Thatisout-there behavior.”

“We chalked it up to whatever terrible company he kept at school. And after he passed, we decided his vendetta against Oxford had gone on long enough. Maybe it's your destiny to go there. As crazy as it sounds, you've always wanted to go. Your father and I were nervous but it seems like you were meant to carry on the family lineage or something. To right the wrongs, whatever Oxford did to your grandfather. We are so proud of you.”

I press my head against my door. “It's beyond what I could have imagined,” I say.

“You sound tired. I'll send you pictures of their things, and you tell me if there's anything you want to keep, okay?”

I unlock my door and press it open. I blink as light spills out of my door. I hadn't left any lights on.

“Yeah, Great. Bye.” I peer cautiously inside. Surely a robber would have waited in the dark? I catch sight of a figure in my room, an arrogant set to his shoulders. I keep the phone in my hand in case I need to use it to call the police.

“How did you get into my room?” I pause halfway in my door, not sure if I should run.

Kendall turns from the window as if this happens every day. He doesn't answer my question, he just holds out an envelope. Familiar thick paper. With a thunk, I drop my purse and keys on my desk before reaching for it.

“You passed,” he says as he watches me rip open the envelope and stare at the check in my hand.

My eyes fly to his face before reading the amount on the check again. I cough. “Are you serious?” It's more money than I've ever had in my entire life, including right before I bought my car last year.

The smile he gives me isn't amused.

The scale... the scale of this check is ten times what I got before. My head swims. This is my reward for simply charming donors at a party? I slide into my desk chair and stare at it. “Everyone got this?”

“Everyone who passed. The others receive a parting bonus if they keep their NDA.”

Disbelieving, I raise my eyes to meet his. He’s holding out another envelope, which I tear open without ceremony. “A plane ticket?”

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