The guidance office smelled like printer paper and bad decisions.
Which felt fitting, considering I had been summoned there during third period under the vague promise of “college planning.”
I sat across from Mrs. Whitmore while she adjusted her glasses and flipped through my academic file like she was reviewing a federal case.
“Well,” she said finally, “your transcript is exceptional.”
That, I already knew.
Not in an arrogant way.
Just in a deeply sleep-deprived one.
“Your GPA is competitive, your recommendations are strong, and your extracurriculars are exactly where they need to be,” she continued. “You’ve done very well, Nessa.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled warmly.
“Which is why I’d like to talk to you about application strategy.”
Immediately, I sat straighter.
Dartmouth had liv
