“Now, David,” Mrs. Haynes said with a heavy sigh, “you know your father would be here if he could.”
“Yeah, right.” He hooked an arm around Lauren’s shoulders and drew her close. She let herself be swept across the wet courtyard and into the gymnasium. Every step of the way she focused on positive thoughts. She refused to let her mother’s absence impact her self-confidence. Tonight of all nights she had to keep her eye on the goalpost, and a college scholarship to the same school David chose was the touchdown. A field goal was a school nearby.
She was committed to achieving this goal, and when she was committed, she could move mountains. She was here, wasn’t she? A senior at one of the best private schools in Washington state, and on a full scholarship, to boot. She’d made her choice in fourth grade when she moved to West End from Los Angeles. Back then, she’d been a shy girl, too embarrassed by her horn-rimmed charity eyeglasses and secondhand clothes to say much. Once, long ago, she’d made the mistake of asking her mother for help. I can’t wear these shoes anymore, Mommy. Rain is getting in the holes.
If you’re like me, you’ll get used to it had been Mom’s response. Those four words—if you’re like me—had been enough to change the course of Lauren’s life.
The next day she set about changing herself and her life. Project Geek No More had begun. She did chores for all the neighbors in the rundown apartment complex in which she and her mother lived. Feeding the cats for old Mrs. Teabody in 4A, cleaning the kitchen for Mrs. Mauk, carrying packages upstairs for Mrs. Parmeter in 6C. One dollar at a time, she saved up money for contact lenses and new clothes. My, the optometrist had said on the big day, you have the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Once she looked like everyone else, Lauren set about acting correctly. She started with smiles, and then graduated to waves and finally hellos. She volunteered for everything, as long as a parent contact wasn’t required. By the time she started junior high, her hard work had begun to pay off. She’d earned her full ride to Fircrest Academy—a Catholic school with a strict uniform code. There, she worked even harder. She was voted class secretary in ninth grade and had retained an office every year since. In high school, she organized every school dance, took photos for the annual, ran the student body as senior class president, and lettered in both gymnastics and volleyball. She’d fallen in love with David on their first date, almost four years ago now. They’d been inseparable ever since.
She stared into the gym, which was packed with people.
To Lauren, it looked as if she were the only student here without a parent. It was a feeling she was used to; nonetheless, it made her smile falter. She couldn’t help looking back at the flagpole. Her mother still wasn’t there.
David squeezed her hand. “Well, Trixie, are we ready?”
It made her smile, that little nickname. He knew how nervous she was right now. She leaned into him. “Let’s go, Speed Racer.”
Mrs. Haynes came up beside them. “Do you have a pen, Lauren, and some paper?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she answered. It embarrassed her, how much that simple question meant to her.
“I don’t have a pen,” David said, grinning.
Mrs. Haynes handed him a pen and led the way forward. They merged into the stream of traffic. As always, the crowd parted for them. They were the senior couple, the pair voted most likely to stay in love. Dozens of friends waved or said hi.
They went from booth to booth, picking up literature and talking to the representatives. As always, David did everything he could to help Lauren. He told everyone he saw about her stellar grades and achievements. He was certain she’d be offered countless scholarships. In his world, things came easily, and in that world, it was easy to believe in happy endings.
He stopped at the Ivy League schools.
When Lauren looked at pictures of those venerable campuses, she felt queasy. She prayed he didn’t decide to go to Harvard or Princeton. She could never fit in there, even if she could get accepted; not there, in those halls where the girls were named after food products and everyone had parents who believed in education. Still, she smiled her prettiest smile and took the brochures. A girl like her needed to make a good impression at all times. There was no room for error in her life.
At last, they headed for the Holy Grail.
The Stanford booth.
Lauren heard Mrs. Haynes’s trailing voice as she marched ahead of them. “… the wing named after your grandfather …”
Lauren stumbled. It took pure willpower to keep her posture good and her smile in place.
David would probably go to Stanford, where his parents had gone, and his grandfather, too. The one school on the West Coast that matched the Ivy League for exclusivity. Stellar grades weren’t enough. Perfect SAT scores didn’t guarantee admittance, either.
No way would she get a scholarship from Stanford.