Most Likely (Most Likely #1) - Sarah Watson Page 0,90
ever had before. “The problem is money,” CJ said. “Adaptive equipment isn’t cheap.” She’d attended a city meeting where the subject was discussed. She’d listened carefully and waited patiently but was ultimately disappointed when they decided that they couldn’t make it work with their budget. “But,” CJ said, “if they had the money, they’d do it.”
“Is this where you tell me you won the lottery and want to spend your winnings on a park instead of hard drugs and fast cars?”
“I’m too young to play the lottery. And I think you know I’d choose the fast cars over getting suitable playground equipment for children with disabilities.”
He smiled. “Then what’s in the envelope?”
“I found a charity organization that raises money to augment city funds. It’s a long shot. They only have the funds for one park this year. We have to apply and they have to pick us. But why not try? I did all the application paperwork. They said on the website that personal letters really help. Dakota’s mom is writing one, and I’m going to talk to some of the other parents too. But I was thinking, as the director of this program, your words would mean a lot.” She handed him the envelope. “All the information is in here.”
“Clarke.”
It felt so good to hear her name on his lips.
“Of course I’ll write a letter.”
“And I want you to know that I’m not doing this out of guilt. I’m doing it because this is what the kids deserve. And, okay, I’m also doing it because I like to win and I really want to beat all those other parks. But mostly I’m doing it for the kids.”
“Then let’s kick the crap out of those other parks,” he said.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
She hoped he knew that she was thanking him for a hell of a lot more than just the letter.
April 3, 2020. It was a day that would live in infamy. It started off like any other day, but for every college-bound senior at William McKinley, it would not end that way. Because at exactly seven PM, Eastern Standard Time, the majority of universities across the country would release their acceptance and rejection information through an online log-in system. There were still a couple of schools who liked to do things the old-fashioned way with an e-mail that would arrive at some vague point that day. Boston University was one of those schools. Ava, CJ, and Jordan had all applied there. Ava still clung to the small hope that maybe they would stay together next year. Martha had ended up applying to only two schools, and one of them, MIT, was in Boston too.
School was tense that day. Most students were too antsy to do much learning, and the majority of teachers didn’t even try to rein them in. It was the one day of the year when everyone was allowed to keep their phones in their hands. During first period art, Mrs. Simon introduced the class to the style of Jackson Pollock and encouraged everyone to get out their aggression by flinging paint wildly at their canvases. Ava didn’t know if it was the new antidepressant that Dr. Clifford had prescribed for her or if it was the action of hurling paint, but she felt remarkably at peace with whatever news she would get later. Next to her, Logan heaved a giant glob of deep-blue paint at his canvas. “It’s my goal to splatter this thing in the school colors of every place that might reject me. That’s Duke blue.” He dipped his brush into a blob of cardinal red and flung it violently.
“Stanford red?” she asked.
He nodded.
It had occurred to Ava that she and Logan might potentially end up on the same campus next year. It had also occurred to her that she didn’t totally hate that idea. She admitted to Dr. Clifford that she had possibly the teeniest, tiniest hint of a crush. Not that it mattered. CJ still claimed that kissing Logan was a mistake, but Ava didn’t want to get in the way if that wasn’t true. She watched him fling another giant glob of cardinal red.
By lunchtime, there was still no news from Boston University. Things got so tense that the girls, who had never been regular truants, decided to skip fifth period. If they were going to sit around and be freaked out, they may as well do it outside in the gorgeous spring sunshine.