and I know you think you can’t do this, but you took the finals with the seniors and you did extremely well. Hell, you aced each one. You can graduate with the seniors.”
“I only took those finals because I wanted to get you and the rest of the teachers off my back.”
“Really?” She raises that brow again and I almost roll my eyes in front of her, but I don’t. I have manners and sense enough to do it when she can’t see me do it.
“Okay, I did it to test myself, but I never told you to send out those college applications,” I say, my stomach flipping.
“You didn’t, yes, but you filled them in.”
I filled them in and added the essays that I write when I’m feeling anxious and that night, I felt like I needed an escape. I desperately needed an out, feeling like the walls of my castle were crumbling and now we live in ruins.
“And it’s not the only one that came back,” she says with a big smile, turning to open the other drawer. She takes out another thick envelope, this one from NYU, then another from Notre Dame, then UCLA and that’s only adding to the one she gave me first, the one I filled in with a passion only because my father went there, Stanford University.
“This is crazy,” I whisper, my eyes wide with awe. “What if they’re all rejection letters?”
“Big schools don’t waste paper on sending denials this thick, Mia. Besides, you and I both know that you can get into any school you want.”
Yeah, except the school that actually matters to my mother. I’m failing miserably at that. What does it say that when it comes to the one parent that I don’t give a damn about, the one who broke my heart, I’ve been accepted to his alma mater.
“Mrs. Henry,” I start, trying my hardest not to burst into tears right now. I compose myself. “I really do have to go.”
She watches me carefully. I don’t know what she’s searching for, but I look away.
“Alright. Take these with you.” I glance at the envelopes warily. “Maybe you’ll look at them when you have a moment.”
“Well, I think I won’t have a moment, you know, with summer coming up, there’ll be so many parties, some fun in the sun.” I smile my best spoiled brat smile, feeling empty inside, but she doesn’t buy it.
“Sure. I guess it’s at those parties that you sneak in an entire college biology textbook, huh?”
I sigh, not knowing what to say to that. The truth is, I haven’t been to a house party in over a year and I certainly haven’t actually had the time to read anything for the hell of it. Yes, I read college textbooks for fun. It’s much more fun to be an intelligent ice queen than a dumb one.
“Mia, listen to me,” Mrs. Henry starts, her voice soft and maybe a bit sympathetic. I shift on my feet, uncomfortable. “Life is scary, and the truth is, we don’t have any certainty when it comes to this life thing. But, don’t let that fear drive your future.”
When I don’t say anything, she stacks the thick, college envelopes, then places them in my hands. Feeling their weight in my arms, I start to panic, images of my mother flashing before my eyes. Not knowing what to do, and feeling Kristine’s eyes on my back, I quickly stuff the thick envelopes in my bag, breathing hard and fast.
“Just breathe, Mia,” Mrs. Henry says, watching me with sympathy in her eyes. She’s one of the teachers that picked up on how smart I was, even when I tried to downplay it so hard just for status. I hate it when some of the teachers call me a genius. If I was, my mother would still…
“Thank you,” I hurriedly say, and then turn on my six-inch heels that match my bag, and leave.
But before I can leave the room, she calls out after me. I glance back and she’s now standing, her arms folded.
“What’s going on, Mia?” Her voice is low, her posture relaxed. That in itself immediately puts me in defense mode. I straighten my spine, making sure my head is held up high, eyes wide with faux innocence, looking every bit the picture of a perfect girl with a perfect life that I knew so many were jealous of. I was that bitch. Well, I used to be.