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“Hey, Dyl.”
“Come here.”
He braces his hand on the back of my head and pulls me into him. He’s almost a foot taller than me so my face is smashed into his chest. I choke back the sob that’s threatening to break loose as I fall into the comfort he’s offering. This is one of the things that I love most about Dylan. We don’t need to fill the silence with words. We can just be. Despite all of the tension between us since Gavin and I got together, he’s still one of my best friends. I really don’t know what I’d do without him. He pulls back when someone clears their throat behind me.
“Miss Kennedy,” Gavin says. “Mr. Taylor. Please take your seats so we can begin class.”
Dylan frowns at him but wisely doesn’t say anything to draw attention to us. As I’m walking through the door, I feel Gavin’s little finger hooking onto mine.
“You okay?” he whispers.
Serenity washes over me from the innocent gesture but that disappears the second our fingers disengage. I nod discreetly and walk past him to the back of the classroom and take my seat.
Gavin shuts the door behind him and walks to the podium to address the class. “Welcome back everyone. Did you enjoy your break?”
A chorus of mumbled responses scatters throughout the room. Gavin briefly makes eye contact and gives me a sad smile before averting his gaze.
“I hope you’re all feeling refreshed because we have a lot to do. This week we’re focusing on college admission and scholarship essays. Since this is the time of year when most applications are sent in, it’s important that we dive right into it. The essay is one of the most important components of your application. It’s a chance to add depth to something that’s important to you. Ultimately, it should convey to the committee why that particular university or scholarship would be a good fit for you. It also gives you a chance to showcase your personality and how you might contribute to the campus community.”
Gavin walks over to the projector and flips the switch. “Essays should use this formatting unless specified otherwise.”
I read through the bullet points listed on the white board as he continues.
He presses a button on his computer. “These are two common writing prompts that
you’ll see out there: ‘Who has been the most influential person in your life?’ and ‘Describe a major hurdle or obstacle you've had to overcome.’ I want you to choose one of these prompts and write your own essay. I’m passing out a packet with six examples of what worked. They are distinct and unique to the individual writer; however, each of them assisted the reader in learning more about the student beyond the transcripts and lists of activities provided in their applications. The purpose of these examples is to inspire you as you prepare to compose your own personal statements. The most important thing to remember is to be original and creative as you share your own story, thoughts, and ideas. Any questions?”
I tune them out as Gavin distributes handouts and fields several questions from other students. I ponder my topic choices for what seems like hours. I cringe as I stare at the whiteboard, thinking about how loaded each question is, with both carrying the potential to expose something supremely raw. Something I definitely don’t want to share with anyone, especially a group of strangers deciding whether or not I’m fit to attend their university. I guess I’m going to have to bite the bullet, though, if I have any chance of getting out of Coastal Oregon. I read through the examples and see that two of them talk about their moms. Both woman suffered from cancer. One made it; one did not. The words begin to blur as tears roll down my cheeks and drip onto the paper. I don’t even realize that I’m crying until I see the first drop hit the page.
I look up when I hear my name being whispered and see several of my classmates staring at me with equal parts pity and discomfort. That’s the funny thing about death, or any horrible event really. Your pain makes other people uncomfortable. They tend to think they should follow some unspoken protocol when bad things happen yet they have no idea what that may be. So instead, they avoid you, try pretending like nothing happened, or offer useless words. I look away from them and wipe my eyes just as the bell rings. I see Dylan approaching me but I shake my head causing him to change course. I leap out of my chair and into Gavin’s arms the second I hear him close the door.
“I feel like such an idiot,” I mumble into his chest.
He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. “Shh, Kat. You’re allowed to be sad.”
“Was I making a big scene?” I ask. “Honestly, Gavin…how bad was it?”
He strokes my hair. “It wasn’t that bad, I swear. It was only the last minute or so of class. I was about to pull you into the hall but then the bell rang.”
I pull away slightly so I can look him in the eyes. “God, I feel so stupid.”
Gavin braces his hands around my face. “Don’t, Kat. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go crawl in my bed with Frodo and get some rest. You shouldn’t be here. It’s too soon. It’s okay to take time to heal.”
“I can’t,” I sniff. “I have to—”
“Gavin, do you have a moment—” We break apart the second we hear the woman’s voice.
Gavin clears his throat. “Sure, Tara. What can I do for you?”
Tara, AKA Ms. Roberts, looks at us suspiciously. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you had a student in here. I can come back.”
I do everything in my power to avoid eye contact as I walk to my desk to gather my things.
“No need,” Gavin assures her. “Miss Kennedy was just leaving.”
I throw my bag over my shoulder and make my way toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Cooper. Thanks for answering my questions.”
“Of course,” Gavin replies.
