is the best damn day, Abby rests her head on my shoulder.
Like the two of us are normal. Like the two of us are seventeen and belong in this room and don’t have a care in the world. Like how life should be.
Abby’s pretending this isn’t real, but it is and I’m dead set on having more moments like this... a lot more.
Abby
Harvard. I’m sitting across from a bastard from Harvard. I’m going to drop kick Logan the next time I see him. Fucking Harvard.
Me and Mr. Harvard have been in the library conference room for thirty minutes though, way past the maximum of fifteen allowed per student. His tie is loosened, the first button of his white shirt undone, and he’s grinning because he doesn’t know what the hell to think of me.
He leans forward in his seat and rests his arms on his thighs. “Let me get this straight, you’re able to create an 80-percent markup on the items you sell, most are aware of this, and none of your fifty-plus client base care?”
This guy is going back to my opening line of: I have my own business with an 80-percent markup. I have a client base where I have to turn people away and I have sales that on average triple yearly and I possibly make more than most college grads do so wow me on why I should attend your school.
He forgot Logan pretty quickly.
I shrug. “I’m sure they care, but the key is to act like I don’t care. That’s wrong. I’m all about customer service, but people often mistake customer service with people pleasing and that’s not the same thing. My customers ask, I provide. They tell me when to show, I do. I keep my word, which is important, but at the end of the day, I have a product they want and the beauty of capitalism is all about supply and demand. I’ve got the supply and I demand the price. Succeeding in capitalism is not for people pleasers. It’s about my clients receiving what they want and it’s about me making money.”
“I’ll ask you again, what do you sell?”
I widen my eyes to mimic annoyed and a tad crazy. “I’ll tell you when you offer me a full ride.”
He laughs. “You’re different, Abby. Sometimes that’s good. Sometimes that’s bad. In the end, it’s always refreshing.”
“But I’m not Harvard material, am I?” I’m bold with the question and hate the little twinges of hope that he’ll disagree with me.
He flips through the folder he requested on me after the fifteen-minute marker. The teacher in charge of this area freaked out. Freaked. Couldn’t believe I was in here. Couldn’t believe Logan wasn’t. She was red-faced, flustered, apologizing and this guy asked for my student record.
“Great test scores and grades. Aptitude tests are impressive. But your attendance is sketchy and you have no outside activities.” He closes my folder. “You sell yourself well, but I need to be able to sell you on paper.”
Besides junior college, the story will always be the same. “Paper kills trees and I like trees. Creates oxygen and all that.”
A sad smile on his end. He reaches into his breast pocket and withdraws a card. On it is his name, his number, and his address. “Email me. Send me a list of schools you’ll be applying to. Maybe I can help you, give you a word of recommendation if it should help.”
I accept and push past the defeat and focus on the golden pass in front of me. That’s another thing about running a business. You don’t let emotion get in the way of an opportunity and that’s exactly what this guy is offering.
“Your loss.”
He stands with me and shakes my hand. “I agree. Good luck, Abby. I have a feeling I’ll be hearing about you someday.”
Probably. On the six-o’clock news and not in the good way. “You better believe it.”
I walk out the door and in front of me is the principal, guidance counselor, and the flustered teacher. Before any of them can say a word, I flash his card. “Anyone else walk out with this? I believe it reads Harvard.”
Only the guidance counselor smiles a knowing “No.”
“Didn’t think so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”
Gotta admit, all of that, including turning my back on them felt really good.
I’m down the hallway, heading toward the exit and sitting on the steps near the exit to the school is Logan. He’s resting his