DEAN
I know the conclusion for my final Econometrics paper isn't gonna write itself, but man, I need a brain break, so I’m hanging out with Claire and her friend Sabrina from the softball team at a coffee shop down the street from my place.
Staying present is a damn chore, not that it hasn’t been for the past few weeks. My classes are winding down, my first final is still weeks away, and senioritis is threatening to bite me in the ass. I mean, one way to stay in the US for longer would be to fail all of my classes and take another semester, but it’s a cost I don’t want to eat.
A semester’s worth of tuition would cover a lot of roundtrips between Shanghai and Detroit. There’s a direct flight, and a new direct train between Hangzhou and the airport?—
Jesus, I miss Nick so much, and all the shirtless pictures he’s spamming me with aren’t enough to make up for us being apart.
Although they definitely help—sunshine looks amazing on him and those sexy fucking arms?—
Claire waves a hand in front of my face, snapping me back to attention. “What’s going on? You’re spacing out again.”
I miss my boyfriend who’s been a little distant.“Sorry. Just thinking about a paper.”
She nods and sips at her coffee, returning her focus to the grad trip Sabrina is helping to plan out. Apparently, Claire’s going to an island somewhere, and Sabrina’s girlfriend is from there and has tips, but I can’t remember clearly enough.
It isn’t like I’m going.
I wonder what Nick’s doing.
Lucky guy, getting plucked out of college to live out his childhood dreams. I wanted to be an astronaut, and look where I am now: procrastinating an Econometrics paper because I’m still choosingstability.
And I didn’t even bring my laptop with me, given that I’m supposed to be taking a break.
Fuck it. All I’m gonna do is get more stressed the longer I stay here, so I push back and stand up. “This has been great, but I really need to write a paper.”
After waving goodbye and dashing out of the student commons, I brave the icy rain on the short walk back to my apartment.
A few minutes later, I’ve changed and settled into bed. I sold my desk and dining table already. I’m not trying to fight for an elusive spot in the library, so working from my bed is the best option I have, even if it makes me want to fall asleep.
Come on, focus.
I rub my temples and squint at the screen, hoping the glaring backlight imparts some energy into my overloaded brain.This is just a tiny little conclusion, I tell myself, and with a deep breath of pure reluctance, I open the document and get to typing.
And the tiny little conclusion takes me a fuckinghourto write. Maybe not getting accepted to grad school was a good thing—silver linings, right?
Well, silver linings if I have any decent alternatives.
With a triumphant slam of my finger against the trackpad, I upload my hopefully decent paper and lie back, sinking into my pillow and scraping my fingers through my hair. I deserve a nap, or maybe I could go to bednowand get, like, twelve hours of sleep.
Groaning, I stretch my arm out to grab my laptop and shut it off, and I’m about to do so when I spot the red notification icon on my emails. Maybe it can wait, but for some bizarre reason, I torture myself and click it open.
Oh. It’s an “Admissions Decision” from Washtenaw. I guess they finally got around to rejecting me. My hand heavy, I click to open it.
Dailin (Dean) Shen:
Congratulations!
Hold up.
We appreciate your recent Letter of Continued Interest sent to our Applications Committee. After an extensive review of your profile and candidacy, we are pleased to offer you a place in the incoming cohort of the Smith School’s Master’s of Economics and International Business Administration?—
I don’t read any more.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit!
