Why not, he says.It’s an Ivy.
Last week you said Cornell.
Who cares? Any of them will do.
Did she talk about Yale again?Courtney asks.
Oh yes. It’s your dream school.
I swear, she’s driving me insane.
That’s what parents do,Zach says.Must be in the manual.
Is there a manual?
Has to be.
13
EARLY FRIDAY MORNING,before Sonia is even at school, she starts getting messages from Courtney. Deadline day for theBugleis always stressful, especially for its editor.
I’m afraid the article on the new library wing will be way too LONG!
Still worried about the sports roundup, we won’t have everything until after the weekend.
I think we may have to redo the layout.
Sonia answers that last one:We don’t have to redo the layout. We just have to make the articles fit the layout we have.
Courtney is always stressed about deadlines, but today it’s even worse.The memorial issue is the one she wants to use for her college applications next year. Her anxiety is at a ten, which means Sonia’s stress is at fifty-seven. Especially after a flood of emails last night about the school’s test scores. The school had stellar scores last year, so of course they have to beat them this year.
“You okay?”
Sonia’s husband wanders into the kitchen, fresh from his run on the treadmill. Mark is a lovely, sweet man whom she has been with since her own high school days, and she can’t imagine being with anyone else. Even if he does tell her she has snits.
“Everything’s fine,” she says. “Why?”
“Because you’re gripping your phone so hard, it might break.”
So she is. Sonia puts her coffee cup down in the sink and takes a deep breath. “It’s deadline day,” she says.
“Ah. You’ll be working late?”
“Absolutely.”
Mark leans over and kisses her on the forehead. “I’ll leave dinner in the fridge for you.”
He runs off to the shower while she heads to the garage. Her phone pings several more times on the drive to school. Before getting out of her car, she closes her eyes and repeats her daily mantra.
Today will be a good day.
Today will be a good day.
Today will be a good day.
Ten times, and then she opens her eyes, puts a smile on her face, and gets out of the car. Three steps later, Courtney appears. Physically, she looks perfect, as always. Pressed clothes, shiny shoes, brown hair pulled back into a neat, if tight, ponytail. Just like her mom.
Panic is in her eyes. “The library article is definitely too long.”