What I Like About You - Marisa Kanter Page 0,78

will happen, too, because of the SATs and I don’t have any fancy leadership titles, only tiny film credits and a blog and a spot at a convention that hasn’t even happened—

“Halle,” Nash says. “On three.”

One. Two. Three. I tap the email open, holding my breath.

On behalf of the admissions committee, it is my honor and privilege to share with you that you have been admitted to the College of Arts and Sciences at New York University.

Nash and I look up from our phones and lock eyes.

He nods.

I nod.

Speechless, we both break into the stupidest smiles, I’m sure. In an instant, I forget that I am at school. I even forget about my strict no PDA rule and press my mouth against Nash’s because—I, Halle Levitt, got into NYU. And so did he.

“Best day ever,” Nash says.

“We’re going to NYU?”

“We’re going to NYU! I mean, hopefully after I tell my parents. Wow. I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell my parents.”

“It’ll be okay,” I say.

“I know. I mean, I don’t know. But I think so. Maybe that’s just the adrenaline talking.” Nash laces his fingers through mine and exhales. “But first, to calculus?”

“What’s calculus?”

At NYU, I’ll never math again.

I float through the rest of the day, rereading the email between classes to assure myself that it’s real, it’s not a fluke, I’m going to NYU. Ollie has an art elective fifth period, so I text him to meet me by the water fountain next to my physics class and we silently scream together for thirty whole seconds before we need to get back to class. We’ll celebrate tonight, Ollie promises.

“Gramps is going to freak,” he says. “So will Mom and Dad.”

NYU is reality. I’m going.

And that means Kels is going. Do I announce it on Twitter? How will Nash feel? Knowing he, Halle, and Kels will all potentially be on the same campus for four years?

Yeah, it’s getting confusing for me too. But it won’t be confusing for too much longer.

I have a plan.

* * *

“It sounds like congratulations are in order,” Dad says.

“Congratulations, Halle!” Mom cries into the phone. “We’re so proud of you!”

Gramps, Ollie, and I pass the phone around the kitchen table and wow, I wish my parents were here for this moment. I’d be suffocating, wrapped in one of Mom’s tight hugs. Dad would ruffle my hair and I’d pretend to be annoyed he messed it up. Ollie would tell Mom to please stop crying, for the love of everything.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Seriously, Hal,” Dad says. “Grams would be blown away.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose because I’m so done with tears today.

“I wish we were there,” Mom says. There are thousands of miles between us and still, she says exactly what I’m thinking. “I hate this. We missed too much. You’re a BookCon panelist! You have a boyfriend! You got into NYU! Being here, making this doc—it’s been amazing, don’t get me wrong. But part of me misses Charlotte.”

Ollie sits across from me at the table, protein smoothie in hand. “You hated Charlotte.”

“Okay,” Mom admits. “Maybe not Charlotte. But the idea of Charlotte. Us together in one place. Going to your baseball games. But now Halle’s heading off to college and it’s just going to be the three of us in L.A. through postproduction and—”

Ollie cuts Mom off. “Mom, I want to stay here.”

“What?” Mom says.

“I want to stay with Gramps.”

Gramps looks at Ollie with exclamation points of panic in his eyes. Ollie’s eyes widen and he shrugs, like, oops. Sometimes, Ollie has literally zero tact. Actually, not even zero. Make that negative tact. But to his credit, he sounds a thousand times more confident than he looks.

It’s so silent on the other side, I think they might have hung up.

“Hello?” I ask.

“We’re here,” Dad says. “Just—processing.”

“No,” Mom says. “No way, Oliver.”

“I kind of love it here. Did you know I made varsity baseball? That I’m the only sophomore on the team?”

“Well, that’s wonderful. But—”

“No,” Ollie says. He’s so worked up, face all red and blotchy like he’s going to explode. “Middleton is home now. I have friends, I have a girlfriend. I have Gramps. Please let me stay. Please.”

“A girlfriend?” Dad asks.

“Not the point,” I say, though I can’t help but be curious about when exactly Talia became Ollie’s girlfriend and why I didn’t know about this. I thought—well, I thought Ollie and I were back on track. Am I seriously still that checked out?

“It’s okay, Mad,” Gramps says. “Ollie and I

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