Lessons I Never Learned at Meadowbrook Academy Read Online Free Page A

like an unpredictable sprinkler system.
    I wiped my hands across my pants to dry them off. I glanced down at my light brown cords, now covered with two moist handprints. Humiliating. Everything about me was humiliating.
    â€œThe bell rang. You don’t want to get a detention on the first day, do you?”
    I turned to see a petite, thin woman with thin brown hair tightly pulled back into a bun. Her pale blue eyes were covered with a pair of square, silver, wire-framed glasses. Her skin was so white I could see the veins in her face. She had on a light grey suit with a cream silk shirt and black flats. And she smelled like mothballs.
    I had been so absorbed staring at footwear that I hadn’t even heard the bell ring.
    â€œLast name?” She held onto a small wooden clipboard.
    â€œRomano.”
    She flipped through some pages and pursed her lips. “Sophomore…Romano. Go into the auditorium and find a seat in the third or fourth rows. Morning meeting is about to start and if you are late, you will get a detention. I am in charge of all disciplinary action at the academy, and I abhor tardiness.” She lifted her finger, which was so thin it looked like a twig, and pointed to the left. “Chop, chop, a Meadowbrook girl is always on time.”
    I took a few steps to my left. I really could’ve just made a run for it. You know, hide out in Christine’s basement for a couple of years until this whole thing blew over. I looked back and Twiggy Finger was still pointing the way. Nothing short of me vanishing into thin air would get me out of this situation now. I guess I had just become a Meadowbrook girl.

Morning Meeting
8:05 a.m.
    Two large potted trees—not plants, but actual big huge trees—were on either side of the auditorium door. It blew me away that rich people had trees indoors. I had seen an episode of MTV Cribs where this famous rock singer had a house in Italy, and since it was located on top of a mountain, there weren’t any trees around. The rock singer said something like, “Well, when you have more money than God, you can just buy nature.” So he had trees imported and grew them inside his house. It was very bizarre and I remember feeling that there was something entirely wrong about the whole thing. That somehow nature just shouldn’t be for sale.
    An older Asian boy wearing a pastel pink Polo shirt pushed past me. Now clearly, I don’t claim to be any kind of fashion expert, but a pastel pink shirt with a stupid emblem of a stupid polo player on a stupid horse is just stupid. My mother always said that horses were for the royal family and everyone else had dogs. I used this plea for my birthday once, but I got a banged-up hamster instead of the yellow lab puppy I was begging for.
    The pink Polo shirt boy let the auditorium door shut in my face. I rolled my eyes. Looks like I was invisible again. I put my hand on the wooden door and pushed, but it was surprisingly heavy, so I used both my hands.
    As I inched the door open, a wave of hushed voices hit me in the face. I stepped inside and felt…terrified. I saw the Polo shirt idiot obnoxiously push his way through the back row to an open seat that was being saved for him by two other Polo-shirt-wearing idiots. They all high-fived each other and made grunting noises.
    The aisle in front of me was covered in red carpet. I darted my eyes over the entire auditorium to take it all in. There were polished dark wooden seats upholstered in deep burgundy red velvet, graceful figures of angels holding outstretched scrolls etched into the cream ceiling, and a black glossy stage that looked like it belonged on Broadway.
    The auditorium reminded me of the very posh Paper Mill Playhouse in Milburn, New Jersey. I know about the Paper Mill Playhouse because when my dad receives a “hefty” Christmas bonus, he takes me there to see The Nutcracker . He calls it our special day, just for the two of us. My