CHAPTERNINE
JESSIE
“Excuse me, you’ll need to sign in!” I yell at yet another student who tries to walk right past me.
The science building is open twenty-four-seven, and my job is to sit here from six in the evening until midnight, making sure students sign in and out and recording what rooms and equipment they’ll be using. It’s a pretty ideal work-study job seeing as it’s usually quiet, and I can use the time to get homework done.
Except tonight all I’ve done is scroll social media and check for more photos from the Halloween party at ATZ. It’s been almost three weeks, and people have long since stopped posting Halloween photos, so I’m having to do some private investigator-level snooping just to find them. It is without a doubt a waste of my time, but I can’t seem to stop myself. It’s almost compulsive. Every time I think back to that night, to our connection, to the way he made me feel, I’m breathless and transported to a version of myself that was relaxed and free, and I find myself doing the only thing in my control to get that feeling back: searching social media for any sign of him.
I want to be that girl again, and if I find Sexy Shakespeare, maybe I can find her too.
But it won’t happen tonight. I set down my phone with a heavy sigh. I really need to get started on the Walden Senior Scholarship essay, seeing as I haven’t even touched it and it’s due in two weeks. I still have a couple scholarships left to apply to from my list, but I need to prioritize this one. Not only is it the largest sum of money, enough to cover the rest of my tuition, but if I win this one it comes with the bonus prize of beating Mac.
Mac started on his essay at least a week ago. I should have started two weeks ago.
I rummage through my backpack for the paperwork, and when I find it I follow the instructions to access the online application. At first glance it’s like most scholarship applications: a résumé portion and the essay portion. I’ll fill it all out later, but I should try to draft the essay now.
Opening a blank Word document, I read through my essay options.
Option 1: How will this scholarship help you?
Option 2: Tell us about a time when you had a belief or idea challenged.
Option 3: Who do you admire the most?
I twist the ends of my hair around my fingers, staring at the questions. My knee bounces under the desk, and I chew on my bottom lip.
Option two is out immediately. I’ve answered it on essays before, and although I should just reuse my essays from those scholarship applications to save time and energy, I don’t actually like this question. I never really connected to it, so I just faked my way through an answer. This application has to be perfect, so faking my way through it isn’t going to cut it.
Which leavesOption 1: How will this scholarship help you?orOption 3: Who do you admire the most?
Option one is almost too obvious. This scholarship will help me finish college.Duh.Although the challenge becomes writing it in a way that doesn’t induce pity. And I’m familiar with pity.
Pity is the look in my high school best friend’s eyes when I tell her that no, I’ve never been on a plane or a cruise or a ride at Disney; I’ve never even been on a vacation. Pity is the cashier at Walmart watching me put back a box of Cheez-Its because my mom told me there was a little extra grocery money this month, but not that much. It is the opposite of what I want from the judge of this scholarship. I want to win on merit, not pity. Besides, pity always comes with a side of shame, and I only want to feel pride when I get the email that I’ve been chosen as the winner.
And that leaves option three. The people I admire the most are my parents. I can’t pick between them. My mom has spent her life working multiple jobs so we can keep our home heated and have food on the table. My dad, who has been on and off disability his whole adult life for his Ehlers-Danlos, taught me how to cook and clean. Whether by accident or design, they bucked against gender norms and made my childhood rich in all the ways money couldn’t.
Maybe this is what I want to write about.
A text on my phone pulls my attention from the essays. It’s a selfie of Jade in a full face of gorgeous makeup.
Stunning
Do I also text one to George Greg?
Yes, obvi.
And Threesome Anna?
Oh shit…are y’all talking?
There isn’t much talking involved ??
????
I smile and click my phone off, trying to focus on my essay again.
My leg starts to bounce and I chew on my bottom lip. If I’m lucky, this essay will take me the rest of my work shift to finish. I have four hours left, and for a good essay that should be enough time, but I should probably get it proofread by one of the school-sponsored tutors, and then I’ll need to spend at least another hour or two tweaking it. The résumé portion might take a half-hour to complete, and then I have to do it all over again for two more scholarships that I qualify for. It’s so much work on top of everything else.
