Page 37 of Within These County Lines

I shifted in my seat, picking at a loose thread on my jeans. “Why is that?”

“I was looking through your notes, and I wanted to see if what I was reading was accurate.”

I laughed. “I hope so. I’ve been here my whole life. You’d think they have it all right by now.”

She pulled a paper from the file and held it up. “You’ve had straight A’s for all three years?”

I leaned over her desk to get a better look at the page. It was my academic transcript.

I nodded. “Aren’t we supposed to?”

“And you run cross-country in the fall, play basketball in the winter, and run track in the spring?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. There’s not much else to do around here. I’d be bored otherwise.”

“And you lead mathletes—”

I crossed my arms. “Only because my calc teacher guilt-tripped me. They needed an extra person. It’s easy, so I just jump in when I don’t have games.”

She ran her hand down the page. “Stetson, you should be proud of these accomplishments. And there’s more.”

I raised my eyebrows.

She smirked. “Have you applied to college yet? I know it’s already your senior year, but I’m trying to catch up as quick as I can.”

“No,” I muttered, spinning my thumbs in my lap. “I’m going to go to the city first. Then I’ll figure it out.”

“What city?”

“Pittsburgh,” I said. “Or maybe Cleveland. I have an uncle there.” I pointed out the window as if the city was just beyond the tree line. “Anywhere outside of Penango, really.”

Her expression softened. “That’s great. I’m happy to hear you have a plan after high school. Have you thought about applying to schools in those cities?”

“Like where?” I asked. “My friend Whitley Wyomen wants to go somewhere crazy like Florida. You know her?”

She nods. “Whitley told me about that plan.”

“I probably won’t get accepted anywhere that my parents can actually afford, so it doesn’t matter.”

Her brows pinched. “I think you have an opportunity that a lot of students don’t. And there are ways to make college more affordable.”

“Yeah? I figure I’ll work first to save up money. My parents get pissed whenever I mention anything other than community college—too expensive.” I shook my head. “It’s crazy that college isn’t free like high school. And my boyfriend, Murray, wants me to stay close by too.”

She leaned forward slightly. “Well, what does Stetson want?”

I frowned. “I just told you.”

She shrugged, then slid me another paper across her desk. “Take a look at this.” I skimmed the words. “It’s a list of schools that might interest you. But no pressure. Do what’s right for you.”

I bit my pinky nail. “Thanks,” I said, grabbing the paper and shoving it in my pocket, nearly crumpling it in the process. “I’ll show Whitley.”

Afterward, I went straight to Whitley’s locker and told her I might actually join her grand escape plan.

Mom, however, was less enthused. She stared at me, unblinking, for a solid five minutes before finally saying, “When people tell you to pursue your dreams, they mean within reason.”

“My counselor said this is within reason for me,” I countered. “School might be good. You always said if I was going to spin my wheels, don’t do it around here or I’d get into trouble like everyone else.”

“You can apply,” she said, voice clipped. “But only to state schools. We give the state half our money, the least they could do is provide you with an education.”