Page 120 of Forever We Fall

Hota clears his throat.

“Okay. Okay. Stanford.” I start over at the top and work my way down. “Accepted.”

“Hell yeah.” Hota smiles at me. He clenches his fist and gives it a little triumphant shake.

But really, it would only be triumphant if he also got accepted.

“You go.”

“Iowa.” He rips and reads. “Accepted with a full scholarship.” He stuffs it to the right and goes again. “NC State. Accepted.” He grimaces and sets that letter to his left.

“Keep going.”

He grabs one more but pauses before he rips. “Stanford.”

I nod while also chewing on my cheek.

His upper lip curls for a flash, then disappears. “Waitlisted.”

“Fuck.” I can’t catch my reaction or pull it back.

“Yeah.” He huffs. “Fuck.”

A part of me perks, just knowing he’s disappointed. Then I remember I don’t know why he’s disappointed. It could and probably does have nothing to do with me or us going somewhere together.

He crumples the paper and tosses it toward the waste basket. The finality makes my eyes burn. “Iowa State?” I motion to the letters in his lap. There are only two left.

“Sure.” He grabs, rips, and reads. “Accepted. Full scholarship plus room and board.” Center pile.

“That’s good.”

We both stare at the letters remaining. One in his lap and one in mine. Both for Harvard. The school that held so much promise for my family but had taken so much away.

I’m scared as hell to go there. That there might be a Judge Harvard curse that would leave me crippled but alive. A falling elevator or a dead limb from a tree.

At the same time, I’m determined to make my statement and leave my stamp on the school.

Are they willing to give me the opportunity? Me and my friend?

My mouth is suddenly Sahara dry.

“Together?” Hota asks.

I nod. Fuck, I hope so.

We rip the envelopes and pull out the letterhead. Slowly, we unfold them.

“Accepted.” I choke. I blink at the words and then drop my paper in a near desperate search for Hota’s outcome.

“Accepted.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Scholarship?” I beg since that seems to be important to him.

“Scholarship.” He nods, and his smile blooms.

I collapse against the leg of his bed, panting my relief for a few seconds. And then he puts the letter on the right side of his thigh instead of the center.

A quick double knock rattles my door as Arlo pushes it open.

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