14
FSG expertly maneuvers our boat to a sleek wooden dock. I scan the shoreline. In every direction, there’s nothing but trees, trees, and more trees.
Huh. This place looks more like a forest than a fancy pants school.
About twenty teachers stand in front of the greenery, both male and female. All of them are wearing khaki pants and blue blazers. I get out of the boat, stand on the dock, and anxiously scan their faces.
My heart sinks. No Lincoln.
Along with the teachers, a half-dozen girls stand by the dock as well. They’re done up in short plaid skirts, white tops, and cutoff blue jackets. Somehow, in all of this, I didn’t realize there would be a dress code involved. More rules. Yuck.
Prescott steps off the boat and introduces me to the teachers. I make a few quick hellos and hold
