“Can we go there now?” I ask, making him chuckle.
Mr. Brandon looks down at my file. “So you’ll be applying early admission in a couple weeks?”
“Yes, sir. If accepted, I plan to major in business with a minor in politics.”
“Well, you’ve got great test scores. A perfect GPA.” He scans the papers in front of him. “Superb community service and extracurricular activities. I imagine our admissions committee will be very impressed by your application.”
“Thank you. I’ve worked really hard.”
He looks up at me, clicking his pen on and off. He hesitates. “I did an Internet search on you before you arrived.”
“I did one on you too, sir.”
This surprises him. “Find anything good?”
“I know that you did crew in college…but I don’t know anything about crew, so I probably shouldn’t have brought that up.”
He smiles. “I like that you’re straightforward. Honesty is very important to us.” I fidget in my seat as he keeps speaking. “Normally, I prefer to respect our applicants’ privacy, but sometimes we can’t help but hear something in the news.”
I feel like he’s sizing me up. “Yes, sir.”
“So I understand you’ve been in some trouble recently. The articles I read said you were taking Adderall that wasn’t prescribed to you, and you were forced to leave your school.”
“I made a mistake,” I say, clasping my hands in a bid to make them stop shaking. “I shouldn’t have taken the pills, but I take responsibility for what I did. And I won’t let my bad decision define me. I will keep working hard.”
He makes a note in my file. “Thank you for being honest. That tells me a lot about you.” Mr. Brandon sets his pen down and leans back in his chair to look at me. “We consider each applicant on a case-by-case basis, Taylor. As a matter of practice, we don’t admit any applicants who have a record of hard drug use. We can’t afford that kind of liability here on campus.”
“I understand that, sir.” My voice is now shaking along with my hands.
“Adderall is a bit of a different case,” Mr. Brandon says. “It’s not an illegal drug like cocaine or heroin, but it’s still serious. Use of prescription drugs by someone other than the intended recipient is happening more and more, and it’s not something we want to see here on campus. We’ll have to carefully consider your circumstances before agreeing to accept you as a student here.”
“I admit I’ve taken it a few times in the past, but I haven’t in over a month, and I don’t plan to again. I’ve been seeing a counselor.”
He makes a note in the file. “That’s good to know. Yale is a tough school, but we try to have fun here as well. We don’t want our students feeling like they are under so much pressure to succeed that they have to take pills.”
I bite my pinkie nail. “No, sir. I don’t want that either.”
I nearly do a cheer when he changes the subject. “So how do you like your new high school?”
“It’s okay, but I miss St. Andrew’s. Especially my soccer team.”
He picks up a paper from my file and studies it. “But you’re playing for your new school now?”
“Yeah, but we aren’t very good. Haven’t won a game yet.”
“Are you having fun at least?”
After thinking for a moment, I shake my head. “It’s hit or miss.”
“But you’re still playing?”
“I’m not a quitter.” Not this close to when college applications are due. “I really do love the game…just not this team. Some girls don’t pass the ball. They don’t work together. It’s not very fun.”
“Then why are you still playing for the school?”
Good question. I love soccer, but at this point, it’s just something to put on my résumé. That sounds shallow, and any other answer would ring false, so I choose not to respond.
Mr. Brandon picks up his pen again. “After you graduate high school, life is going to get a lot tougher.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” I say quietly.
“It’s important to do things you enjoy. You don’t want to end up on a path that you hate.”
“I don’t want that either.”
“So what do you plan to do with your business major?”
I nod, prepared for the question. “I want to work for my family’s investment firm.”
He looks a little bored by my answer. I don’t blame him. It bores me too.
“What about your minor in politics?”
I should say that I will run for office one day, but he must hear this same drivel all day long. He probably looks forward to hearing the random—like a guy who wants to major in art because he’s on a graffiti crew, or a girl who wants to join the Yale sailing team but might have to take a semester or two off because it’s her dream to sail around the world.
“I’m not totally sure what I want to do with the politics minor,” I say. He appreciated when I told the truth earlier, so I decide to just lay it all out there. “I’m not wild about business either, to tell you the truth. I hate math.”
“So do I,” he replies with a smile.
“Whatever I do, Yale is the best school to help me achieve my goals.”
“I can’t disagree with you there. All of our students take general education courses during their first two years here. It helps kids learn more about who they are and what they like.”
“That’s good to know. I don’t really know what I like.”
“That’s okay. I just turned forty, and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life.” He stares out the window at a parking lot.
I follow his eyes. A black car reverses out of its space and drives out onto the road. I worry my life is just like that car, reversing and heading out to some unknown destination. I don’t like the idea of not knowing where I’m going.
We sit in an awkward silence.
“I totally bombed this interview, huh?” I say.
He shakes his head. “It’s been a good eye-opener for me, to be honest.”
“How so?”
“Based on your background and what I’ve seen in the news, I figured you’d make excuses for your behavior, but you were completely open with me. I appreciate that. When you send in your application, make sure to include a detailed letter explaining why you were expelled and what you’ve learned from it.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. There have been times when we’ve accepted a student only to find out later he’d forged his transcript or she lied about her extracurricular activities. We had to rescind their acceptance letters. So it’s best to get everything out in the open from the start.”
Mr. Brandon puts his pen back in the cup on his desk and closes my folder.
I shut my eyes. I still haven’t been completely honest with him. The election is in three weeks. I am planning to tell Mom and Dad the whole truth right after that.
I thought the worst thing would be not getting into Yale, but what if I got in and then they rescinded my acceptance?
I have no idea what to do next.
? ? ?
I won’t lie.