Ordinary Girl

by Pamela Gossiaux

  “You still have plenty of great options,” she says. She digs out my folder and opens it up. Then she starts to list the schools who have let me in. None of them are schools I want to go to.

  “And you’ll get aid since you only have one parent,” she says.

  Perfect. I get the dead-parent pity money from the schools. Is that supposed to be some sort of bonus to make up for having your dad die?

  I don’t listen as she drones on. Instead, I feel this pit of despair come over me. I wonder if I am going to be depressed like Mom. Maybe they can lock me up too. Then I won’t have to do anything. I can rest.

  After four years of working myself to death over grades, I can finally rest. They’ll bring me meals and everything.

  “I should get back to class,” I say. Without waiting for her to respond or give me a pass, I get up and walk out.

  I mope about all day and avoid Brit. After class I go home to change, and Mom isn’t there. She’s at work again. I go and count her pills. Four more are missing.

  At work, I look for Mr. Sneeder. I need someone else to tell my college troubles to. But he isn’t there. He hasn’t been there in a few days. I wonder if he’s sick.

  That night at home I don’t do any homework. I just crawl into bed, smelling like coffee. Gracie is laying on my bed, purring. I’m about to drift off to sleep when I get a text. It’s from Cory.

  Sorry I didn’t call today. Crazy day! But I have some exciting news for you. I’ll tell you tomorrow! And there’s a heart emoji.

  Tell me now! I text back.

  Nope. I want to tell you in person. Good night!

  I send him a heart emoji back. Could it be about Harvard? I feel the little trickle of hope return. But I don’t want to get my hopes up. So, I pull the covers over my head and go to sleep.

  Today is an assembly honoring Women’s History Month. It was planned long before last week’s assembly on Yes Means Yes, so I guess the teachers feel the need to go ahead with it.

  I don’t know how we’re supposed to get our academics done with all this stuff going on.

  I see Brit up near the top of the bleachers in the gym, next to Aaron and Dennis. I make my way up.

  “Hey,” I say, sitting next to her.

  “Hey,” Brit says. “Why didn’t you answer my texts last night?”

  But the assembly starts, so I don’t have to respond.

  Principal Make-It-So gets up and welcomes us. Then the dance club performs some strange dance with twirling scarves. I have no idea what this has to do with Women in History, but they get their moment in the spotlight, and it gives me time to get some bubble gum off of Dennis.

  Then we see this stupid film about women throughout history and how they were oppressed. We couldn’t vote. We couldn’t own land. Blah blah blah.

  I know all of this. Then the film starts celebrating women who made a difference. Kaitlyn B. Anthony. Amelia Earhart. Sally Ride. Then there’s a slide of Fe Del Mundo, the first woman to enter Harvard.

  So women couldn’t attend college either?

  Suddenly I’m angry at all of the women throughout history. I mean, who was the first woman who decided she’d let men control everything? Who first said we couldn’t vote? Or own land? Or go to college?

  Why didn’t the women all rise up and revolt eons ago? Geez.

  Before I know what I’m doing, I get up to leave. Stupid women. Stupid assembly. All they had to do was fight back.

  I hear Brittney call my name but the blood is roaring in my ears. I stomp down the bleachers and past one of my teachers sitting near the bottom. Ms. Marple looks up at me.

  “Bathroom,” I say before she can ask.

  In the bathroom I let the water run as I stare at myself in the mirror.

  Stupid women. Stupid me.

  I think about all the hours I poured into studying. All the AP tests I took over the years, even though they were expensive. All the stress.

  I think about the internship I did last summer at the clinic, so I could log in some medical hours. Between that and my job at the café, summer was pretty much full-time work.

  And for what?

  “Heather?”

  I jump. It’s Brittney.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I shake my head no.

  I think of the rejection emails, and of the little bottle of pills in my mom’s drawer. Of her months of depression. Of the money I sometimes have to spend from my job to buy groceries.

  Brittney waits for me to say more, but suddenly it’s all too much. College. Mom and her drug problem. Our lack of money. There comes a point when, if you haven’t kept your best friend up on what’s going on in your life, it’s too hard to explain.

  “I’m fine,” I say and shut the water off. “Let’s get back.” I brush past her and out into the hall. Fortunately for me, the bell is now ringing, and we have to go to class.

  “Let’s talk,” Brittney says, following me. But I shake my head ‘no’ and blow her off.

  Then after school, I tell her I need to go right to work and can she get a ride home with someone else? She does, and I leave for home.

  — — —

  At work I try to focus on my job, but I keep looking towards the door. Cory texted earlier that he’d be by around 7 p.m. I have butterflies in my stomach, because whatever he has to say will determine my future. My life.

  I arrange to take my break then. Sure enough, about five minutes to seven, he walks in the door. I still can’t get over how cute he is. He has that long lock of hair hanging over his left eye, and he gives me his shy grin and a small wave.

  “He’s here. I’m taking my break now,” I tell Cherise, and untie my apron.

  I go over to the table where Cory is standing. He’s taking off his jacket, but he stops what he’s doing to give me a quick kiss on the lips. I know Cherise saw that! I try to hold back the smile that is threatening to take over my face.

  “I’m on break, so we can talk for a few minutes,” I say, pulling out a chair and sitting.

  “I missed you!” he says, taking a seat across from me. He reaches over the table and takes my hands in his.

  “I missed you too,” I say, because it’s true. My stomach is swirling with either anxiety and excitement. I can’t tell which. Maybe both.

  “So…” he says, and smiles. “I’ll bet I know what you’re waiting to hear.”

  “Stop!” I say, because he’s teasing me. But I laugh. I’m suddenly nervous. “So get on with it!”

  “My dad talked to his friend about you, and he says there are always openings left over at Harvard, and always unclaimed scholarship money. He thinks he can help you out.”

  My heart starts pounding in my chest. This is the best news I’ve had in weeks. Months, even.

  “Really?” I say, not quite believing it.

  Cory nods.

  “He wants to see your transcripts and college essay.”

  “Okay. I can print those out or email them—”

  “Even better,” Cory says, his eyes sparkling. “He wants to meet you in person.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. That’s what he says. I’m heading home again this weekend, and he said he’d love to interview you. In person.”

  “So like…I’d go to Harvard this weekend?” I’m trying to figure out the logistics of this.

  “Not exactly. He and my dad have been wanting to get together, so Dad invited him to dinner next Friday night at our house. Come home with me. I can drive. We can leave Friday morning, be there by dinner time. Saturday we can sightsee. I can have you back Sunday.”

  “Wow,” I say. I think for a minute. It sounds too good to be true. “I mean…we’ve only known each other for a week…”

  Cory sits back. “I know. And this isn’t a way to get you…you know…to get alone with you. It’s just to help you out. You can sleep in my sister’s bedroom. She’s away at college. And my dad will be there all weekend.”

  “Of course. It’s all co
ol,” I say. My head is spinning with the possibilities. Harvard! People say, it’s who you know, not what you know. This is amazing!

  For the rest of my shift, my mind is busy planning. I wish Daddy was here so I could tell him. If I can go to Harvard, I can start my medical studies. And Cory said they could get me scholarship money! I’m so happy I can barely focus. I accidentally put milk into a dairy-free latte and have to remake it.

  When we close up, Cory walks me to my car. “I’d love to do dinner tonight, but I really need to get my nose back into my books,” he says.

  “That’s okay. And thank you so much for talking to your dad.”

  “No problem,” Cory says. He leans forward and kisses me. This kiss is longer than the other ones, and I can feel my tummy tingling with the anticipation of more. But I’m also a bit afraid to go further. I mean, he’s a college guy, and I’m…well, he’s my first real boyfriend. I’m sure he’s plenty more experienced than I am with this sort of thing.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.

  I nod and tell him to meet me at the city library. I’m not ready for Mom to meet him just yet.

  — — —

  I wait until lunch the next day to tell Brittney.

  “What? Absolutely not!” Brit says right away.

  “What do you mean? It’s my chance to get into Harvard! Harvard, Brit!”

  “You’ve only known this guy for a week.”

  “So? He’s super sweet.”

  “Brit has a good head on her shoulders,” Aaron says to my benefit.

  “Thanks, A,” I say.

  “No prob.”

  Dennis is eating his sandwich. Pickles and cheese on Rye. He pushes his glasses up with his finger. “What does your mom think about this?” he asks.

  “My mom?”

  “She hasn’t told her.” Brit says matter-of-factly.

  I sigh. Of course I haven’t told my mom. She’d have a heart attack, and it would be a definite no.

  “She hasn’t told her mom she’s going to go off to New York City with a college guy she just met?” Dennis says.

  When I hear it said out loud, I can kind of see why they’re worried.

  “I want to meet him first,” says Brit. Her arms are crossed and she has that look in her eye. “Then I can tell if he’s safe.”

  “Doesn’t your mom have that family app on your phone?” Aaron asks. “The one where she can track you? So you kind of have to tell her.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “Yes. She does.”

  “That’s not a problem,” says Dennis. “I can change your location.”

  “Dennis!” says Brittney. “You’re not helping. Not one bit. We’re supposed to be discouraging her. What does that even mean, you can ‘change’ it?” She does air quotes.

  Yes. I’m wondering the same thing.

  “I can change her location so that her GPS says she’s at Brittney’s house. Or wherever she wants to be. I do it all the time to play Pokémon Go. Sometimes there’s a really cool one in Chicago, or someplace I can’t actually be. I can catch a Downriver Pokémon while sitting in class.”

  “Cool!” Aaron says. “How do you do that?”

  “With an app. And some savvy nerd knowledge.”

  But that’s perfect. I can have him change my GPS location so it says I’m at Brittney’s house. Then I’ll tell Mom that I’m spending the weekend with her. We used to have sleepovers all the time when we were kids, and I still spend the night over there every now and then, so it’s a great cover story.

  “I don’t want any part of this,” Brittney says.

  “Brittney, please,” I say. “This is my only chance. Michigan rejected me.”

  “Oh, Heather…I mean, what if she calls?” Brit says. “I’m not lying for you.”

  “She won’t call,” I say. “I’ll text her a bunch over the weekend. That will keep her happy.”

  The bell rings for class so Brittney has run out of time to argue. Dennis tells me to give him my phone at the end of the day tomorrow, and he’ll change my location. Mom shouldn’t stalk me on Friday. She’ll be busy at work and assume I’m at school.

  “You don’t know this guy,” Brittney says again. “I’m totally against this.”

  But I convince her not to say anything to my mom, by telling her I’ll rethink the situation. Of course, I’ve already decided.

  I’m going to New York.

  There ends up being no time for Brittney to meet Cory. He’s super busy with school.

  He picks me up Friday morning at 8 a.m. My mom is still sleeping. I sneak out of the house with my weekend bag, a printed copy of my resume and college essay carefully packed inside a folder. I also bring my school backpack, just in case. I should probably try to do some homework this weekend. I have a paper due in English on Monday.

  I’m waiting outside when Cory pulls into the driveway, because I don’t want to wake mom. Cory is dressed in blue jeans and a U of M sweatshirt. The top is up on his car because it’s cold outside. When I get in, he leans over and kisses me on the lips.

  “Good morning,” he says.

  “Good morning!”

  He hands me a bag. “Bagels,” he says.

  I peek inside and pull out a cinnamon one. This is going to be so fun!

  I called in sick to school this morning, then left my Mom a note on the kitchen table saying I would be at Brittney’s after school. Later, I’ll text her that we’re doing a movie-marathon with ice cream, and that I’m spending the night.

  On Saturday, I’ll text her that I’m at work. But in reality, I’ll call in sick. And then Saturday night I’ll call her and say I’m back at Brit’s because Mrs. Roberts has invited me to a belated birthday party dinner for Brit’s brother.

  I have it all planned out.

  It’s a ten-hour drive. Cory figures that will get us to his dad’s house at about 6 p.m. Just in time for dinner. His dad’s friend is coming over tonight, so I’ll have my chance then to talk to him about Harvard. His name is Bram Stafford. It sounds very professorly. I’m a little bit nervous, but I’m also very excited.

  That, Cory says, will get the school stuff out of the way so we can go sightseeing tomorrow. He says he can’t wait to show me New York, a city he just loves.

  “Your mom was okay with this?” Cory asks.

  I hesitate. But this is Cory. I feel I can be honest with him. “She doesn’t know. I told her I was going to Brittney’s tonight.”

  “Can’t she track your phone? My dad used to do that with me.”

  “No. My friend is a big computer geek. He changed my location so my GPS reads that I’m at Brittney’s. She hardly ever checks, but if she does, it won’t be until tonight.”

  “Oh.” He gets quiet, as if thinking.

  “It’ll be okay,” I say, hoping he’s not upset.

  “I know. I just like honesty, is all.” But he lets it go and asks about what other schools I applied to.

  We talk for a while about college, and then we focus on the music. He has a great playlist on his phone, which he pumps out through the Bose speakers in his car.

  We stop briefly for lunch at a sub shop, but he insists we eat on the road. “Otherwise we won’t make it in time,” he says. I’m very careful not to spill on his leather seats.

  We are quiet for a while, each of us busy eating. When he’s finished he asks about Brit.

  “How did you two meet?” he asks, sucking the last sip of his pop through his straw.

  I tell him, and then add in some crazy stories from when we were younger. He tells me some funny things about his college roommates and we laugh a lot. I find out that he loves ice cream, the color blue, and wants to learn to play the guitar. It also turns out we have some favorite movies in common. The nervousness I felt earlier about going away with him is gone, and I feel so content and comfortable sitting beside him now.

  Later in the afternoon, I offer to help drive, but he says he’s fine. I drift off to sleep.

  When I
wake up, we’re in New York.

  “We’re almost there,” he says.

  I look out the window at the large expanse of the city. The tops of the tallest skyscrapers disappear in a dense cloud of grey fog. Or smog. It’s not a very pretty day. I wonder what it looks like when the sun is shining.

  “My dad is on the outskirts of the city,” says Cory. “But we can take the subway in tomorrow. It’s so expensive to park.”

  He gets off the freeway and makes a few turns, driving for about fifteen more minutes. Then he pulls into a subdivision with big houses. Most of them sit on at least an acre of land, surrounded by trees for privacy. You can’t even tell you’re in a sub.

  “Wow,” I say.

  He pulls into the circular driveway of a big, brick mansion. There’s a fountain in the middle of the circle, but it’s turned off for winter. It’s the Greek god Poseidon (which I know from English class, thank you Mrs. Welch from ninth grade!). The god has his trident raised. I’ll bet it’s beautiful in the summer.

  Cory stops on the driveway, just below the front door. Looking through the car window, I count the steps leading up to the double doors. There are exactly thirteen. Two pots sit on either side of the door, containing some type of pruned evergreen bush.

  “This is your home? What does your dad do again?”

  Cory laughs. “This is where I grew up,” he says. “Dad is in real estate.”

  He turns the car off and gets out.

  “I’ll come around and help you with your bags,” he says.

  He opens the front door and lets me go in ahead of him.

  The house is huge. Straight ahead is a big room that looks like a living room. On either side of us is a big, winding staircase going up to the second floor from the foyer, and high above me is a crystal chandelier. We set our bags down by the door, and Cory motions for me to follow him through into the living room.

  “Welcome!” A tall, dark-haired man walks over to me, his arms spread wide. He’s carrying a basket in his right hand. “You must be Heather,” he says. “Cory has told me so much about you!” He gives me a little hug. “I’m his dad. You can call me Roger.”