Nana flies up from her chair. “Oh damn. It’s in the oven.”
“I’ve got it,” I tell her. “You sit still.” As much as Nana’s offhand comments might hurt, the woman still raised me, clothed me, and fed me while Ray sat on his fat ass, smoked weed and masturbated to sporting events.
I cast a glare at his back and notice, for the first time, a white envelope stuck down his pants. It’s probably a bill. The last time he hid a bill from us (because he’d watched a dozen pay-per-view pornos) we had a three-month late fee to pay. Our budget works only if we don’t have unexpected surprises like that.
I grab the rolls from the oven, dump them into a basket and carry it over the table. As I bend over, I pluck the envelope out from the back of Ray’s sweatpants. “What’s this?” I demand, waving it in the air. “Some bill?”
“It’s not those dirty shows again, is it, Ray?” The sides of Nana’s thin lips pull down.
He flushes. “Course not. Told you I don’t watch that shit anymore.” He shifts in his chair to give me a smarmy smile. “It’s for you.” He snatches the envelope out of my grip and drags it under his nose. “Smells like uptight bitch to me.”
A flash of crimson at the edge makes my heart beat faster. I lunge toward the envelope, but Ray holds his arm out high and away from me, making me press against him. God, I hate him.
“Give her the letter,” Nana chastises. “The food is getting cold.”
“I was just funnin’,” he says, dropping the envelope by my plate.
My eyes lock on the crimson shield in the upper left corner.
“Open it,” Nana urges.
There’s a hint of eagerness in her tone. She may taunt me about my worthless education and ridiculous dreams, but I think that deep down she’s damn excited. At least she’ll have this to lord over the other ladies at the hair salon whose granddaughters are having babies instead of getting into Harvard.
Except…the envelope is wafer thin. All of my college acceptance letters were in giant envelopes stuffed full of pretty brochures and catalogs.
“She’s scared. She probably didn’t get in.” Ray’s words are both lined with disdain and ringing with glee.
I snatch the letter and rip it open with Ray’s knife. A single piece of paper falls out. It’s got several paragraphs, none of which I fully read as I scan for the important words.
Congratulations on your admission to Harvard Law School! I hope you will join us in Cambridge as part of the class of—
“Well?” Nana prompts.
The biggest smile known to mankind spreads across my face. My hunger, my exhaustion, my irritation with Ray, is all wiped away.
“I…got in.” The words come out on a squeak of breath. I repeat myself, and this time I’m screaming. “I got in! Oh my God! I got in!”
I wave the letter in the air as I dance wildly around the kitchen. I don’t usually allow myself to drop my guard in front of Ray, but the bastard doesn’t even exist to me right now. Excitement pulses in my blood, along with a sense of relief so weighty that I can’t stay upright for much longer. I fall on Nana’s shoulders and give her a huge hug.
“I suppose you’re going to be extra uppity now,” she gripes, and I don’t even care.
“Naah, this doesn’t make her special or anything,” Ray drawls. “She’s got two holes like any other bitch. Three if you count her mouth.”
I wait for Nana to defend me, but apparently jealousy is winning out over pride right now. She laughs at his disgusting comment, and just like that, I’m done celebrating with these people. I cannot wait to get out of this house.
Still, I refuse to let anything affect my happiness right now. I spin on my heel and waltz down the hallway to call my girls.
“What about dinner?” Nana yells after me.
I ignore her and keep walking. In my bedroom, I throw myself on the bed and text my friends.
I got in.
Hope beats Carin by a millisecond.
OMG! Congrats!!!!!!!!
Carin replies, PIC! PIC! PIC!
I snap a picture of the acceptance letter and send it off. While I’m waiting for their responses, I run down the hall, fill my plate with pasta, stuff a roll in my mouth, and run back to my bedroom. Nana and Ray say something, but none of it processes. Only sheer joy fills my ears.
There are a dozen responses when I get back.
Hope: <3
Carin: LOVE! LOVE! LOVE! UR so awesome!
Hope: I’m so proud of u. UR going to make the best lawyer EVER. Please say you’ll represent me if I get sued for malpractice.
Carin: THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING!
Hope: When do we get to take u out? And no, never, not happening R unacceptable responses.
I chew on my roll as I text them back.
Me: A) U both get free legal services 4 life.
B) Let’s celebrate tomorrow. I promise to order enough to make your credit card weep.
Hope: Not possible! I’m making reservations for Santino’s.
Carin: That place needs reservations?!