“Maybe you’re not so boring, for a nerd.” He winks before turning on his heels and disappearing at the corner.
It's not until much later that I realize: though we only spoke twice in total, he remembers my full name.
I smile to myself as I fall asleep.
3
LILY
If anyone had asked me before today, I would have said, “I’m so glad I moved across the country to attend Thorn Falls.”
Firstly, it forced some distance between my ex and me. God knows he wasn’t taking the hint that I wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship past high school.
Not that there was anything wrong with Jon per se, but I ended up dating him because he asked and I didn’t see any reason to say no at the time. Dating was what other people did, so why not? I never really had butterflies in my stomach, or any of the romantic shit other people talk about. A well-made Marvel figurine titillated me more than Chad.
Jon was accepted to the University of Michigan last year, and when I suggested we should break up because he’d be in college while I still had my senior year of high school, he grew controlling, demanding his friends keep an eye on me, calling me constantly, even trying to get my own parents on his side. I also got accepted there, but I had zero intention of heading to the same college as him if I could help it.
Besides, Rothford’s a million times more prestigious than all my other choices, and the terms of their full ride scholarshipsseemed easy enough. Rate amongst the first thirty percent in my year? Piece of cake. I’d always been valedictorian without really trying, simply because I took enough AP classes, had little to no absences, and prioritized work over partying.
I genuinely believed it’d be the same here. I might even have had a bit more fun than I usually did, being so close to an epic big city with nerdy gatherings every other week.
My stomach feels like there’s a pit of vipers coiling inside it as I read the email.
Forty-seven. I am ranked forty-seven, out of one hundred and twenty-two freshman students. Even before I read the rest of the email, I know that that’s not nearly good enough. My brain hasn’t atrophied enough for me not to realize that I’m just above middle of the pack. I do the math quickly. Top 46.7%.
I haven’t scored high enough to qualify for the scholarship that pays for my tuition, my food, my dorm room, even my parking space.
Dear Ms. Trueman,
You will find attached your grades and your current rank amongst the freshmen in Rothford Unversity.
As per the term of your scholarship, you no longer qualify for the merits award totaling $170000 per annum. Should you wish to remain for the second term, please contact the faculty to process the payment by the first of January.
Wishing you a lovely holiday,
Ms. Ruth Anne Guilford
Secretary
I’m not even crying, too shocked to manage tears, or any thought other thanoh god oh god oh god. This can’t be happening to me. Not now.
I look at the breakdown on the second page. It’s simply impossible for me to come up with eighty-five grand in two weeks. Even if I just focus on paying tuition, handling food and lodging elsewhere. And how would I pay for a flat? I don’t work. I just…study. Except I didn’t do nearly enough of that last semester, did I? I went to LA six times, spend at least three nights a week out with my friends and?—
I’ve done this to myself.
The tears start.
“Trueman?”
I haven’t really computed the fact that I’m in public until the sound of my name pulls me out of my bubble. I’m in the library building, at the café on the ground floor, pathetically crying like the idiot I am.
I can’t believe I’ve squandered my one chance here.
“Hey, what’s wrong, Lily?”
I blink several times as my vision is obscured by the broad-shouldered, tall man sitting in front of me, watching me with a concerned frown.
Cross.