The Full Ride
The disapproving look in my mother’s eye was not about me leaving the house wearing next to nothing. Something bigger was bothering her.
“Christopher, I have opened the last of your college e-mails.” She annunciated each syllable when angry.
My eyes widened. They’d arrived? “Shouldn’t I have opened them?” It infuriated me that I’d had to give my parents my passwords in exchange for application fees.
“You did not get into Harvard, nor Yale, nor Princeton, nor Stanford, nor Swarthmore, nor—”
“Okay, please stop.” My heart raced. “Where did I get in?”
“Nowhere. You are zero for twenty.” She rubbed her temples. “This is a disaster. Your father always said you’d be a disappointment.”
My stomach felt hollow. I’d been afraid of this possibility, but now that it had come true,
