Say When

F I V E

My teachers' voice faded into the background. It was my last class before lunch and I planned to use my break to visit my guidance counselor.

I had not given up on a college yet. I heard all the time about little miracles coming through and kids who never thought they were going to college end up with a cushy dorm room and all expenses paid.

I needed one of those miracles. Badly.

The bell tolled and I leaped from the desk. I nodded and waved quickly to folks as I made my way to the main office. I breezed by the secretary. No time to stop and chat like usual. I was on a mission today.

Ms. Davis' office door was open and I could hear her clicking away on her computer keyboard as I approached. I stood in the doorway and knocked gently. Her frizzy red hair bounced and twisted as she looked up and smiled.

"Bridget! Come in, come in." She cleared away some clutter from her desk and I plopped down in the seat. I sighed heavily and conjured up a pout.

To Ms. Davis, all of us students were her kids. Over the years she's helped me with tough teachers and recommended clubs for me to join that aggravated my already precarious social anxiety (Astronomy Club-- lots of quiet gazing).

I knew the best way to get her to tap into her fiercest motherly instincts was to appear helpless. No, better yet--hopeless.

"Oh no, don't like that look. What's going on?" She was already queuing up her rescue. I reached into my bag and pulled out a few of the offer letters that I'd received from colleges.

I splayed them on her desk like a deck of cards. She picked up one suspiciously and started to read. A smile spread across her face.

"This is wonderful Bri! Oh my, how many are here?" She picked up another and another.

"Seven here. Two at home." I kept my pout.

"I don't get it. What's the problem?"

"Ms. Davis. You've known me for four years. You always told me if I applied myself that I'll be successful." I started the setup. She waved her hand across the letters.

"I was right." She looked smug. I almost felt bad for what I was about to do.

"You were half right. The other half is that if you're poor you won't be able to pursue what you applied yourself so vigorously to." It was true but it still stung to say.

It wasn't her fault that my mom was a drug addict. It also wasn't her fault that my Dad didn't know when to cut his losses. His bleeding heart had bled him dry. Nothing left for me or Chris.

"I assumed someone as bright as you would get a full ride. Did any grants come through?" She sunk a bit into her seat and I leaned forward.

"Yes, but not enough to cover all the costs. I spoke with my Dad and there's nothing he can contribute right now. There has to be something that I can do. I've busted my ass, Ms. Davis." She raised her eyebrows. I grimaced but I was feeling badass so I continued.

"I'm sorry, but I have. I didn't do all that to go City Poly." I pushed. She adjusted her glasses.

"There is something I just heard about that may help. I serve on the Board of a community organization that assists youth with SAT prep, college applications, and the sort. It's really a passion project of mine. It's fulfilling to see a young person come in inquiring about their future and be able to put them on the path---" She stopped and took in the impatience on my face. I needed her to locate the point and get there immediately.

"Anyway, they offer a four-year scholarship for undergraduates. $15,000 per year." I felt like my heart would flop out of my chest.

"Yes, I'll take it." I was ready to sign on the dotted line. Ms. Davis smiled and returned to her usual demeanor. She'd solved the problem.