realist ━━ jess mariano

18| the secret history

ON THE LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL before spring break, Rosemary was sent to the principal's office.

    She couldn't guess what it could be about. She spent the past week working on extracurricular activities that would would look good on her application to Yale. This particular boost of motivation on achieving such titles resulted after two weeks ago, when her parents gave her the impression that she simply wasn't doing enough to get into Yale. As if being valedictorian the past two years, and if all goes well, this year, was not enough.

"Ah, Ms. Gilmore, always good to see you."

    "So i'm not in trouble?"

    The Principal gave a short-lived laugh as he sat down on his chair, straightening the stack of papers on his desk. "So quick to assume." He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit down."

Rosie did as he instructed, gaping eagerly at him until he reveals what she's in here for. "I hate to sound impatient, but could you tell me what this is about now?"

"Ms. Gilmore, you know I've always appreciated that you didn't follow Rory's footsteps and go to Chilton. Of course, you would've excelled there, too, but you'd be robbing us of our greatest triumph; you." He said. She leaned in, intrigued. "And I know you want to go into publishing, maybe be an author yourself one day. So I pulled some strings, and..."

He slid a piece of paper across the desk. Rosie picked up the printed email letter, skimming through the words. When she was done, she looked up, overwhelmed. "A summer internship? At a publishing house?" She asked, eager for clarification.

"At Ink Press." He nodded, hiding a smile. "I know, I know, it's not the best in the business, but it'll get you there." He added hopefully.

"I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything, yet." He said surely. "It's a big decision, it'll take up most of your summer and it's all the way in Rhode Island. And of course, we'll need a guardian's signature—"

    "I'll take it." She said decidedly.

"Like I said, guardian's signature—"

"When?"

"By the end of the month, if you're still sure."

Rosie got up from her seat, folding the paper. "I'm sure." She nodded.

    "I think you made a very wise choice, Ms. Gilmore."

    WHEN SHE WALKED TO HER HOUSE THAT NIGHT, IT WAS BOMBARDED WITH STUDENTS FROM HER HIGH SCHOOL.

    Rosie has never seen the house so utterly crowded before. She walked in, oblivious to what was happening. "Hey, what are you doing here?" She asked the two teenagers standing on her front porch. "Why are you at my house?" They drunkenly laughed and walked away.

    Walking through the front door, she had to tiptoe past ponds of spilled alcohol on the floor. What the fuck was happening?

     Looking up, she saw a stressed-out Rory by the kitchen. "Hey," She rushed over to her. "Why did no one tell me we were having a party?"

    "Because this isn't supposed to be happening." She said hastily. "It's my fault— Lane's band had a gig at Chuck's party, but Chuck's parents walked in and yelled at everyone— and then— and then..." She caught her breath.

    With wide eyes, Rosie clasped onto the girl's shoulders. "Rory, it's alright. I'm guessing you suggested continuing the party here?" She asked.

    "It was only a joke, but then her bandmates took it literally, and Lane tried to explain to them that it was a joke— then, boom, fifty people start running over to my house." Rory groaned. "Mom's going to kill me. They took out her Paul Anka cd's and used it as frisbees."