Cragbridge Hall, Book One: The Inventor's Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

the edge of her bed, quietly hoping for the tension to fade.
    After several minutes, Jacqueline broke the silence. “Do you know how many of my friends applied to Cragbridge?” Abby didn’t answer; she could guess it was a lot. “Tammy got perfect grades her entire life, and she was declined. Amiya was the junior racquetball champion of the United States and a mathlete. Jared was published in the fifth grade.”
    “I’m sorry,” Abby said. “I don’t know how the admissions board works, and I’m sorry your friends—”
    “No. Don’t even say it.” Jacqueline was nearly shouting. She reached into the closet, found the shirt she gave Abby, and ripped it off the hanger. “I’m taking this back.”
    Abby couldn’t believe it. Minutes ago it seemed like the two of them were going to be fast friends. Now, it was shaping up more like archenemies.
    “In fact,” Jacqueline said, “this isn’t going to work.” She pinched a series of Abby’s clothes between her two arms, and lifted them from the bar in the closet. She walked outside of their dorm room and dropped them on the floor. “There is no way I can room with you.”
    Abby stood there in shock. Was this really happening? “What do you mean?” she asked. “Let’s talk about this for a—”
    “No. No talking,” Jacqueline interrupted. “This ... is ... over!” She grabbed the rest of Abby’s clothes and threw them in the hall. Abby walked to the hall and started to pick them up. Several girls peered out of their doors, watching the commotion. When Jacqueline came back out, pushing both of Abby’s suitcases out of the room, she noticed the gathering crowd.
    “This girl,” she said, pointing at Abby, “got into this school because she’s the granddaughter of Oscar Cragbridge.She didn’t work for it. She didn’t earn it.” Jacqueline looked into the eyes of the other girls. “She’s taking the spot of someone else who got denied—maybe one of your friends—because she got a free pass.” Jacqueline shook her head, then disappeared back into the room.
    Abby looked into the eyes of the girls in their doorways. Some looked on curiously; some scowled.
    “I really have worked hard,” Abby said in her defense. “It’s just that ...”
    Jacqueline returned, holding one final suitcase.
    “Let me take that,” Abby started, trying to grab her suitcase. “Some of my things are very special to—”
    “I don’t care,” Jacqueline said. “My friends are special to me, and thanks to you, they aren’t here.”
    “Where am I going to go?” Abby asked.
    “Don’t care,” Jacqueline said. “Maybe you should try a normal school, with people who do normal things. You might fit in there.” Jacqueline slammed the door. The lock clicked behind her.
    Abby met the gaze of several girls staring at her from the hallway. No one asked if she needed help. Instead, most of them glared at her. They probably had friends who had been rejected too. One by one, they all went back into their rooms, some of them following Jacqueline’s lead by slamming their doors.
    Lights flashed in the hallway. Ten seconds later, the door to leave the floor automatically locked: 10:00 curfew.
    Abby could feel tears building up, threatening to stream down her face, but she closed her eyes and refused them. Then she wiped them away. She was not going to break down just because one drama queen overreacted. Then again, that drama queen had just kicked her out of her own dorm room. Now where was she going to sleep? What should she do with her things?
    Abby remembered the Cragbridge student-body helpline. She blinked and sniffled as she turned on her rings. She searched her history until she found the sync code. Within a moment, she was looking at a tired, middle-aged woman.
    “Cragbridge Hall. How can I help you?” the woman said. The words rattled out of her mouth without feeling. A small earpiece that accompanied the rings allowed Abby to hear what the woman said.
    “I ...