Page 115 of Faux Real
He’s developing all of them? For what? For me? For him?
“Why—” I begin but the buzzing of my phone interrupts my train of thought. I pull it out of my pocket and look at the notification screen.
Dread washes over me.
Dad: I was just informed that Harvard has sent out their first batch of early acceptance letters. Check your inbox and call me immediately. I will be waiting. Do it now, Kennedy.
“Shit,” I whisper, my palms starting to sweat. “Oh, God.”
“What is it?” Oliver asks, a frown marring his brows. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, logging into my email, my heart erratic. This is it. This is what I’ve worked for all these years. My future. It’s here. Right here. My head buzzes with hesitation and panic as I close my eyes and hover my finger over the inbox tab. My eyelids refuse to open. To look. To see my fate. Oh, God. “I can’t do it.”
“Do what?” Oliver asks, shifting toward me.
“Is there an email?” I ask, turning my phone screen in his direction. “From Harvard?”
“Oh... Harvard,” Ollie muses, taking my phone. “You sure you want me to check?”
“I can’t do it,” I repeat myself as I control my breathing. “Please?”
“Okay,” he says, pausing for the longest second of my fucking life before an airy and indiscerniblehmmescapes his lips.
“Well?” I probe, eyes still shut.
Oliver clears his throat. “Dear Miss Carmichael,” he begins slowly. “Congratulations. On behalf of the Committee of Admissions of Harvard University, I am pleased to offer you conditional early acceptance to Harvard as a member of the Class of 2026. You were selected from an extraordinary and talented group of...”
The world stops. Everything stops moving. It’s still. Silent. No sounds. No voices. No noise.
Nothing.
I got in. I—I got in. I did it.
It—it was worth it. Every late night. Every missed party. All the tears. Breakdowns. Headaches. Sleepless night. It was... worth it. They want me. Harvard wants me. I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. I did it. I got in.
Now to do it all over again. For four more years. Because Icando it.
Iwilldo it.
“Kennedy?” Oliver’s voice cracks through my thoughts. “Kennedy?”
“What?” I ask, my vision slightly blurry.
“Did you hear me?” he asks, a wide grin on his face. “You got in! That’s incredible! Congratulations! I knew you would.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, forcing a smile. “I’m so happy.” His smile wavers for a second. “I gotta call my dad.”
“Of course,” he says, handing me my phone. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I stand up, dusting tiny flakes of frost from my jacket.
“Don’t forget this.” Oliver hands me the photograph. “Let me know if you’re free this weekend to get the others, yeah?”
“I will. Thanks, Ollie,” I say, slipping the photo into my backpack before dialing my dad’s number. I wave goodbye to Oliver as I head back into the school, the line ringing in my ear.
“Well?” My father asks, answering the call.
“I got in!” I exclaim, sucking in a sharp breath. “I got in, Daddy!”
