Paper Flowers (Pretty Plastic People) ★

bonus 04

I don't think Mr. Denham was forced to report anything—in fact, I'm pretty sure he took a certain amount of glee from the report—but I say instead, "You aren't defined by one stupid mistake two years ago.  Clearly, Central did the right thing and saw past that.  I'm so proud of you.  Are you going to tell Allison?  How about Spencer?"

"I'll put it in the group text now."  Only now do I see a grin appearing, widening quickly so that his eyes crease at his smile lines.  Reality must just be sinking in for me.  I really hope the same will happen to me later.

Once he sends the text, he puts his phone away for real and starts back in on his frozen yogurt.  "Do you know what time the Princeton email comes out?" he asks.

"Four o'clock."

"Shit, Erika.  That's less than twenty minutes away!"

I stab at my yogurt, splitting a piece of granola in half.  "Don't remind me."  Another stab.  "I'd rather not think about it."

"Well, what are your other options?" he asks, setting down his spoon.  "Knowing you, you have at least four back-up plans."

I can't help but smile at that.  "I do.  I already got into Northwestern and Tufts.  I'm waiting on a few other Ivies after Princeton, but I'll probably go to Northwestern if things don't work out today."

"Northwestern's good," he says.  "Far away though."

"Yeah.  Maybe that's a good thing."

Chicago seems like a million miles away right now, but I think that'll be a good thing in the end.  Aquino High was poisonous for me, and once I graduate I don't think I'll want to stay in this town for long.  It'll be a fresh start for me, where I can meet new people and not fall subject to the same toxic relationships I did here.  I'll have a chance to make a positive difference without tainting anything.

"I've seen Northwestern's brochures in Allison's room," says Liam.  He's almost finished with his yogurt by now, and I can tell he's eyeing mine, too.  "All posh and fancy.  And super smart.  You'll fit right in."

Only Liam can say this without coming across as insulting.  It's one of the many things I love about him.

I stomach a few more bites of yogurt before I'm too nervous to eat anymore, so I shove the bowl across the table and Liam finishes it for me.  Then he distracts me with stupid conversation: prom and gossip and what Mr. Denham does for fun.  I laugh and smile and nod at all the right places, but under the table my legs are shaking.

Four o'clock finally comes, and I feel like I could either run a few laps around a football field or be sick.  Taking as many deep breaths as I can muster, I pull my phone out of my purse and go to my email.

1 new email.  From Princeton's Board of Admissions.

"It's here," I mumble, clicking on the link that directs me to my online portal.  It takes me three tries to get my password right and then I'm logged in, and the words are right in front of me except they're blurring together.  

"We are unable to take definite action...waitlisted..."

"No," I whisper.

Liam stretches a hand across the table and places it on my arm, grounding me.  "It's okay, Erika," he says.  "Princeton's really hard to get into.  Not everyone—"

"I didn't get rejected," I say.  I want to clear that up right away.  I was better than that.  They didn't turn me down flat—they couldn't.  Not after my sparkling grades and extracurriculars.  "I'm on the waitlist."

"Oh.  That's not bad!  Erika, that's good.  You might still get in—"

"I'm turning down the offer."