The buzz at school started quietly at first, like one tiny mosquito that kept floating around near you, but always just out of reach so you couldn’t squish it. Then it got progressively louder after lunch, and by the time school ended, it was like someone had smashed a wasps’ nest full of gossip onto the floor.
“Why’s everyone freaking out?” I asked Drew once I ran into him. I mean, literally ran into him. He was wearing his soccer uniform and carrying his cleats in one hand.
“UCs are notifying people!” he yelled as he kept running. “Sorry, the bus is leaving! Away game!” He blew kisses in my general direction as he turned the corner, and to be honest, it was a good thing he couldn’t talk.
Because I had gone numb.
The admission letters had arrived. The yes or no I had been waiting for for four months—no, actually, more like four years—was sitting in an in-box somewhere for me, and I suddenly felt terrified no matter what the answer would be.
What was I supposed to do? I immediately started to text Caro, just out of pure instinct, but stopped before I could even start. I couldn’t tell Caro, not yet. She didn’t even know that I had applied to UCSD. In fact, only one person in the entire world knew what I had done, and I needed to find him immediately.
Oliver was coming out of the guidance counselor’s office when I bumped into him. He was scowling a little and had a tight grip on both straps of his backpack, but he smiled when he saw me. “Hey!” he said. “Why are you still—wait, what’s wrong?”
I just shook my head and Oliver bent down and grasped my shoulders. “Em. You’re totally white right now. Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“Acceptance letters are in,” I whispered, and Oliver’s eyes grew as wide and round as I knew mine were.
“They are?” he whispered back. “What did it say?”
“I don’t know!” I was starting to feel a little hysterical. “I haven’t looked yet! And I can’t go do it at home because my mom’s there and she . . .”
“Got it,” he said. “What about the library?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what the news is, or how I’m going to react, but either way, I don’t want to have my reaction in the school library!”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Oliver squeezed my arms again and I took a deep breath. “You can’t just check it on your phone?”
I glanced at my phone. “I have two percent battery—wait, now it’s one percent battery—left.”
“Okay, what if—oh, wait! Oh my God—ballet!”
“Oliver, only one of us can have a meltdown right now, and I don’t know what you mean by—”
“No, I mean, my mom took the twins to ballet class and Rick’s up in San Jose on a business trip! No one’s home! You can check on my laptop there.”
“But we’re not supposed to be alone in the house together,” I said.
“Emmy!” Oliver gave me a small shake. “Are you serious right now?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know! Let’s go!”
I drove back to our houses in record time, my hands shaking even as they gripped the wheel. “I think I’m going to throw up,” I told Oliver.
“No, you’re not,” he said.
“No, I really think I am. What have I done? Why did I think this was a good idea?”
“Because you’re smart and want to join the surf team and move out of your parents’ house.”
“Those are pretty good reasons,” I admitted.
“They are,” he agreed.
I parked my car around the corner so my mom wouldn’t see it, then Oliver and I ran down the street and let ourselves in through the back door. The house was quiet, with some pink plastic cups sitting half full on the countertop and a small purple hoodie left slung over a chair. “Oh no, Nora forgot her jacket,” I said.
“Worry about it later,” Oliver told me, hustling me up the stairs to his room. It smelled different from the rest of the house, like Oliver. Maureen’s scented candles from Anthropologie hadn’t made it this far, apparently. “Okay,” he said, opening up his laptop. “Type. Do whatever.”
I sat down at the keyboard, then froze. “Emmy,” Oliver said, his voice softer this time as he knelt down next to me. “The answer’s not gonna change now. You might as well open it.”
“Good point,” I said, but I didn’t move my hands. “Can you, um? Do you mind just standing over there?” I gestured toward his bed. “I want to read it by myself first, whatever it says.”
He moved without even questioning it and I took another shaky breath, let it out slowly, then typed in the admissions address. A few clicks later and I saw the letter waiting in my in-box.
I opened it and read it.
Then read it again.
Then read it once more just to make sure.
“Emmy?” Oliver sounded hesitant. “Are you . . . is it . . . ?”
“Dear Emily,” I started to read out loud, then stopped for a second so I could catch my breath. “Dear Emily, Congratulations! I am delighted to offer you admission to the University of California, San Diego for fall—”
“YESSSSS!!!!” Oliver grabbed me out of the chair and up into his arms and I squealed with laughter, a sound of pure delight.
“Oh my God!” I cried against his shoulder, and then I couldn’t hang on to him tight enough. “I got in!”
“You got in!” He swung me in a circle and I laughed again. “You’re going to college!”
“I’m going to college!” I cried, because in that moment, I didn’t care what my parents said, I didn’t care what anyone said. I had done it all on my own. This was all mine.
“C’mere,” Oliver said, and then he was kissing me while still holding me up. I kissed him back, dizzy from happiness and adrenaline and the spinning. Eventually, we made it back to his bed and I collapsed into the sheets, still kissing him, not letting him go anywhere.
Oliver had no problem with that.
“Good thing you’re a better kisser than a surfer,” I teased him in between kisses, moving his hair back so that it wouldn’t get in the way.
“Well, college girls turn me on,” he replied, then leaned in again as I started to giggle. He kissed my jaw instead, then right below my ear, and I instinctively turned toward him.
That’s when we heard the garage door start to mechanically grind open.
“Shit!” I cried, and we sprang apart. I slammed the laptop shut and grabbed my car keys while Oliver straightened the bed and then his shirt. We were both breathing hard, both flushed, and even though I was a minute away from being busted by Oliver’s mom and two prima ballerinas, I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Hurry,” he said. “Use the back door again.”
“Okay,” I said, then grinned at him.
“Are you trying to get us both grounded?” he hissed, but he had a pretty dopey smile on his face, too. “Go! Get out of here! Go research dorm rooms or something.”
I grabbed his hand and kissed it one last time, then disappeared down the stairs and out the back door just as the laundry room door started to open. “I’M SO COLD—” I could hear Nora start to say as I slid the door shut behind me, and I turned and went past a row of sago palms, tall enough to hide me from the windows.
“I’m going to college,” I whispered to myself once I was back in the car, and when I adjusted the rearview mirror, I didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection.
But I liked what I saw.