chapter twenty-two

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INTO THE STARS
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BRINLEY

"I am fucking shitting myself. I am going to shit my pants," I ramble, my blood rushing so loud I can hear it in my ears, blocking out everything except for my nervous thoughts.

"Stay calm," Brooklynn advises, letting out a light chuckle at my current distress.

I peer over at her, pinning her with a serious look. This is not a laughing matter; this is the deciding factor for my future. I inhale a deep breath, close my eyes, and shut out my surroundings.

"You will be fine," I mutter, only for my ears. My point is lost, and I find it hard to convince myself otherwise.

My hand hovers just above the mouse pad and the big red button at the bottom of my page taunts me.

My life has finally caught up to me. I am about to send my submission letter away to my dream medical school—University of California. Part of me is in disbelief that I made it this far without doubting myself somewhere along the way; the other part is just proud because of how far I have made it.

I can feel Brooklynn's hand wrap around my shoulders, turning my entire body to face her. From my place on the barstool and her standing right next to me, we are at eye level, which is a rarity considering I am about five inches taller than her when standing.

"Brinley, listen to me. You are one of the smartest people I have ever met. I have no qualms that you will not only make it into this school but come out of it, being one of the best surgeons in the country."

That's a bit of a stretch and we both know it, but I will not interrupt her little inspirational speech.

"Now, how about you do the honors of pressing the red button and sending in your submission?" Brooklynn shoots me one of those half-encouraging, half-amused smiles.

I roll my eyes, looking away and staring right back at the screen. I know I will have to press that button sooner rather than later, but I can't gather up the courage to do it just yet.

Maybe if I stare at it long enough, it will be mentally sent to them without me having to go through the mental distress.

Fat chance in hell of that happening.

I hear Brooklynn huff out a long, exasperated breath right into my ear and her hand pops out of nowhere, pressing the button for me.

"Hey!" I protest.

"There you go. If I hadn't done that, we would stare at that screen like idiots all night long," she tells me and I know she is right.

Truthfully, I am kind of thankful that she did that for me.

I slide off of the barstool, itching for something to occupy my brain. I want an answer right now, but I know I won't magically receive an answer within five seconds of submitting my submission. If only, though. I still have to wait at most a couple of months until I receive any sort of answer.

"Right, let's do something." I clap my hands in front of me, looking at Brooklynn, who now sits in the spot I was just in.

"What did you have in mind?" she asks, warily. And judging by the narrowing of her eyes, I can tell she is worried about the crazy idea I have now.

I think it over for a moment. Only a few things come to mind and I would rather not spend all my monthly budget, online shopping because I couldn't restrain myself.

"Baking and drinking expensive wine?"

Brooklynn's face looks thoughtful the second the proposition exits my lips. "Not as bad as I was expecting." She shrugs and I consider that a win.

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