“The board of education doesn’t see that as a valid reason to avoid making up time.”
I frown. “Is detention still in the library?” I ask. Maybe I can spend it on the computers looking up new marketing techniques to bring people into the store.
“Yes, but that’s not all. There’s another thing we need to discuss.”
I swear if she tells me she’s about to have a baby, I’m going to lose it.
She reaches across her desk and takes a manila file out of a stack. My name is printed at the top and the edges are a little bent as if this folder is old. I stare at it, wondering if this is the infamouspermanent recordfile that people talk about. I always figured these things are kept on the computer now.
Mrs. Reese sets the folder in front of her and opens it up. “I’d like to take a minute to go over your freshman questionnaire with you, Natalie.”
My chest tightens as she picks up the paper inside. I totally forgot about those stupid things they made us fill out on the first day of school my freshman year. I don’t even remember what I wrote on mine.
Mrs. Reese clears her throat. “The question asks what you’d like to be when you grow up. Your answer: I want to own a coffee shop in the meeting room next door to my mom’s store.”
I swallow. I remember that now. It’s always been my dream, turning that unused section of the store into a separate business. It would have its own door on the strip but also, it’d be open to the shop so I could sell people coffee and then they could browse The Magpie.
I don’t say anything, even when she takes a moment to peer at me over the top of my paper. “The next question asks how you plan to achieve your goal.”
I lean forward slightly, wondering what I wrote four years ago. It was probably something stupid, knowing me.
“I will graduate high school with scholarships already won and then I will get into Sam Houston State University with my tuition either mostly or fully paid for from the scholarships. I’ll complete a four year bachelor degree in business so that I’ll be better educated to run a business and to help my mom and dad with their business.”
This part hurts. Not only were my parents still married back then, but I’d had all these goals of attending college and getting scholarships. Something twists in my gut, making me nauseated. So much has changed in four years.
My mom is divorced.
I have exactly zero scholarships.
My application to SHSU hasn’t even been filled out yet.
“How have your goals now changed from back then?” Mrs. Reese asks. Her eyes watch me with a seriousness that means she might actually care what my answer is.
“They haven’t changed,” I admit. “I still want to run a coffee shop, but that won’t happen, most likely. You need money for that kind of thing. And I’d still like to go to college, but I have no scholarships and as you’ve already mentioned, my grades are bad.” I let out a sigh that makes my heart hurt.
“I think your goals are very achievable,” she says, closing my folder and placing it on top of the stack. “I think you just got a little off track this year, but there’s still a way to get everything you want.”
I lift an eyebrow at her. She continues, “I’m very good friends with the admissions people at Sam Houston. They often accept students like you who had a good record with a little slip ups along the way.”
I lean back into my chair. Outside, the bell rings, signaling the end of forth period. “I’m not too concerned with getting accepted as I am with paying for it. My mom and I don’t have any money, and the store is more important than college anyway.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” she interjects. “You said so yourself in your paper. If you have an education, you can run the store better. As far as finances…there are grants and scholarships, and I’m sure your father—”
“Ex step-dad,” I say, throwing her a look. “And no. I will never ask him for money.”
She actually looks a little sad for a minute but then she regains her composure. “I’ve already spoken with Sam Houston, and they’re expecting your application before the school year is over. Can I tell them you’ll be sending it in?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
Whatever I need to say to get her to shut up.
“Wonderful.” She beams. Her eyes start to sparkle a little as she leans in, as if she’s about to tell me a fantastic secret or something. “I’m not supposed to go around telling students this but…” She winks at me. “I have recommended you for a scholarship and you’re now a finalist for the Sterling SBA scholarship!”
“SBA?” I ask. Briefly I wonder if this woman would be so nice to me if she wasn’t married to my ex step-dad. There’s no way she puts this much thought into every student in the school.
“Small Business Association,” she clarifies. “Since your mom owns a small business in town, the organization loves giving scholarships to students of business owners. I put your name in and they’ve told me you’re at the top of the list. All you have to do of course, is graduate. That means pass all your classes.”
I frown. “I’m not sure I will pass with how far behind I am.” It sucks to admit it, but the idea of failing school is not something I want to live with. I’m not an idiot or some drop out loser. Why did I let myself screw up so badly this year? Idowant to go to college. I want to make something of myself and earn a skill that will help me get a job if the business goes under. I don’t want to live my life like Mom does, constantly stressed out about being self-employed. I hang my head in my hands. “This sucks. I didn’t realize how bad my grades had gotten.”
