Page 36 of Love and Other Goals

My heart rate is slowly deescalating back to a normal rhythm. “Sheesh you scared me, Mom. I was afraid something had happened.”

“I’m sorry honey, I wasn’t thinking about what time it was or that it might startle you,” she says apologetically. “I just wanted to let you know that I read through your essay this morning, and it was so moving. The admissions team is going to love it, but I loved it even more. I didn’t realize how impactful that trip was for you.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either,” I answer as I head downstairs to the living room. “I mean, of course I knew it was impactful, but I hadn’t really pieced together that it was the defining moment in making me want to become an immigration lawyer until yesterday.”

“Really? What made you think of it for the essay then?” my mom asks, right before I hear her honk the horn and mutter something about an incompetent driver. Morning traffic in Kansas City can be a wild ride.

“Actually, Mateo is the one who helped me realize it,” I say with a small smile. “I was struggling to know what to write, and he asked me when I knew that being an immigration lawyer was the part of the solution that I had to be.”

“Well, another gold star from me then,” Mom says with a chipper tone to her voice. “Do you know if he’ll be in town the weekend we come to visit in a few weeks?”

“I’ll have to find out, Mom. They have an away match that Saturday, but if you’re coming in Friday night we might be able to have dinner. When it gets a little closer, I’ll ask him about it,” I say. “We’ve gone on a couple of dates, but I’m not sure it’s quite to the ‘make plans with my parents weeks in advance’ stage yet.”

I hear the grin in my mom’s voice when she responds, “Oh honey, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like Mateo is far beyond that stage already.”

“Mom!” I scold. “That is not helpful! I’m trying not to let my thoughts run wild, okay?!”

“Mmm-hmm, whatever you tell yourself,” Mom replies. “I just pulled into the parking lot, so I need to head inside. I emailed you back a couple of suggestions to reword in your essay, but otherwise I think it’s ready for you to submit.”

“Thanks Mom, I appreciate the input,” I say. “Have a great day with your clients. Tell everyone hello when you get home later.”

“Will do. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too.”

I’m wide awake now, so I grab breakfast before heading upstairs to get dressed. Amaya and Teegan are both up, so I plop down at the desk and power up my laptop to look at my mom’s suggestions.

My inbox shows my mom’s reply, but also a response from the email I forwarded to Mateo. I click on that first, unable to resist his pull even via email. It’s a short response that makes me smile big. This is so good, Lana. Do you have any weaknesses, or do you just do everything well?

By the time I’ve made the few tweaks from my mom, Teegan is back in the room after eating breakfast, so she and Amaya crowd around my laptop to read together. When they get to the end, Teegan wraps her arms around my neck. “Beef, you have such a beautiful love for people. You’re going to make the best lawyer.”

Amaya stands up and joins our group hug, adding her affirmation. “I agree, and if UC Davis doesn’t let you in, then their idiotic admissions department should all be fired.”

I laugh, but inside I’m a puddle of gratitude for having found such incredible friends. Now that my essay is complete, my application is ready to submit. It seems fitting to have my two best friends with me when I press send.

I log in to the UC Davis application website and upload my personal statement and other documents. Teegan and Amaya are standing on either side of my chair, and I give a quick glance up to each of them before hitting the submit button.

Smiling at the confirmation screen, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. It may be out of my hands now, but I feel one step closer to my future.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The rest of the week flies by now that I’m no longer weighed down by the burden of finishing my early admission application. I’ll hear back with enough time to apply to other law schools if I don’t get accepted, so for now I can fully focus on the fall semester of classes.

Well, classes plus Mateo. And I guess AOPi and Arrow will get some of my attention too.

Unfortunately, aside from a smile across the room at the Arrow meeting, I don’t see Mateo throughout the week. They have an away match on Saturday, which they win 2-1. Mateo texts me a rundown of the game play, and I’m itching to watch him play again. Next Saturday’s match is at home, and I’ve already recruited Amaya to attend with me.

The first week of October sends a charge of energy through the AOPi house—we are nothing if not a group of basic college girls obsessed with the fall season. The dining hall gets decorated with pumpkin centerpieces, and everyone pulls out the fall fashion from their wardrobes. With homecoming now just a few weeks away, it also means assigned work hours on the float and yard display, as well as more practices for the showcase performers.

I love the fall frenzy even more so when Mateo asks if we could go to the fall festival together on Friday night. Every first Friday of October, the city of Brooklyn sets up a festival in Center Square with all of the fall essentials—pumpkins, hay bales, music, apple everything, and local businesses with booths to sell their autumn merchandise. It’s one of my favorite nights of the entire year, and I’m extra excited to experience it with Mateo this time.

Friday after dinner, I submit myself to Teegan’s demand to pick my outfit and do my hair and makeup. The temperature dropped today, so I insist on my outfit including pants instead of a dress, which she initially whines about. By the end of her beauty session, Teegan seems satisfied with my leggings, oversized ribbed tunic, loosely curled hair, and darker-than-usual eye makeup.

As I walk out the front door to greet Mateo, I don’t even mind the crowd of girls outside, not-so-subtly staring and whispering. He’s smiling as he walks toward me. “Lana, you look incredible, as usual.”

I want to return the compliment, considering that Mateo looks nothing less than completely hot in dark jeans and a brick-red Henley shirt, sleeves pulled up to mid-arm. The red of his shirt starkly contrasts his tan complexion and black hair, which looks perfectly tousled tonight. The words stick in my throat, though, because I haven’t quite figured out how to feel comfortable complimenting his physical appearance. I mumble something about being glad to see him again.

He opens the passenger door for me, and there’s no mistaking the increased volume of girls’ voices talking about us. Mateo doesn’t seem to mind at all. He simply flashes a dimpled grin at me as he gets in the driver’s side and says, “Ready to go revel in your favorite season?”

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