one hell of a journalist someday, Jordan.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe I’ll be something else. I still haven’t decided for sure. I’m only eighteen, after all.”
Ava squinted at CJ in the darkness. “How could you tell it was me?”
“Nobody else is as short as you.”
They were mismatched as friends in so many ways. Height was just one of them. But they aligned in all the ways that really mattered.
“I stopped by your house when you weren’t answering your phone,” Ava said. “Your parents are worried.”
“Then I guess they told you I got into only Ohio State?”
Ava nodded.
“It’s a good school,” said CJ.
“I don’t think they’re worried about you going to Ohio State.”
“I know. They’re worried I’m going to crack. But I’m not. I’m okay. It’s the right place for me, I think.”
“Really?”
“I’m working on being at peace with my failures. I think I’m getting better at it. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m a master at failing.” But Ava knew that’s not what CJ was asking. “You want to know where I got in.”
CJ nodded.
“I got rejected from Georgetown and Wellesley.”
“Idiots,” CJ said. “I’m pretty sure you’re just trying to make me feel better. But still, they’re idiots. And what about Stanford?”
“I got in.”
“Congratulations.”
“You can be pissed at me.”
“I’m pissed I didn’t get in. I’m not pissed that you did. I’m really proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
“And RISD?”
Ava nodded. “Yeah.”
“Damn, Ava.”
“I know. I don’t know what I’m going to do. My mom said she’ll support me in whatever decision I make.”
“Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
“Yeah. I do, actually.”
Ava thought about the moment that she’d found out. Her mom had been sitting next to her when the letter from Stanford popped up on the screen.
Congratulations! On behalf of the Office of Undergraduate Admissions, it is my pleasure to offer you admission to Stanford’s class of 2024.
Ava had actually screamed. Next to her, her mom had kept her cool. She kept the same poker face when the good news came from RISD. “Looks like you have a tough choice ahead of you” was all she’d said.
“It is a tough decision,” CJ agreed. “I guess that’s the advantage of getting into only one place. Bet you’re super jealous of me.”
“So jealous.”
Ava laughed and CJ gave her the biggest hug ever. “Hey,” CJ said, pulling away. “Do you mind if I ask—just because I’m incredibly curious about what a successful Stanford essay sounds like—what did you write about? For your transformational-experience essay?”
Ava knew everyone assumed she’d written about the moment she met her birth mother or about being diagnosed with depression. And while those things were both certainly transformational, they were far from the most significant thing that had happened to her in her life so far. “I wrote about that day at the park. The summer before kindergarten. When I met you and Jordan and Martha.”
“What?” CJ said. She couldn’t have been more surprised.
“Yeah. It basically changed my whole life. I wouldn’t be who I am if I didn’t have the three of you as best friends.”
CJ laughed. “That is such a good answer.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“It’s so simple. And so perfect. And something I could have written too.” But then she shook her head. “No, it’s not, actually. I wouldn’t have written about it in the same way. I love you, Aves. I’m super proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you too.”
CJ smiled. “You know, I’m kinda proud of me too. Wanna go for a jog?”
“Hard no,” said Ava.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MARTHA WALKED past Old Navy and Chico’s and turned into the Army Recruitment Center. The young sergeant stood as she entered, and she walked right past him too. Major Malone was at her desk doing some paperwork when Martha appeared in front of her, jumpy and tense. “Hi,” Martha said. “Do you have a minute?”
“I would invite you to sit, but you seem…” The sentence did not need to be finished. Martha was in no position to be still. “How about we take a walk?”
“Sure, yeah.” Martha shoved her hands in her pockets. “A walk would be good.”
It was a nice spring day, and they stepped outside, where the air was fresh and everything was blooming. “So,” Major Malone said. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for?”
Martha was too nervous to be anything other than honest. “Well,” she said, “I’m basically looking for someone to pay for college. But also… maybe more.”
“Okay,” Malone said. “We can work with that. There are a couple of options. One, you enlist. Give the army five years,