Page 107 of Not in the Plan


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Maya didn’t even flinch.

And now, Remi double-dog hated her. “Of course.” Remi masked her gritted teeth. “Welcome to the team.”

With absolutely no amount of intimidation or nerves, Maya vise-gripped Remi’s hand. “Glad to be here.”

A burn filled Remi’s belly.My-ahwas going down.

2

Oh my God, she’s the most intimidating person I’ve ever met.

Maya’s toes grazed the pavement as she speed-walked down the alley.Shoulders straight, head high. Shoulders straight, head high. A half block away, she double-checked no one was watching and leaned against the brick wall.

What a crap show. Her entire body cramped from clenching so tightly from the interaction with Remi. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she exhaled an hour-long worth of trapped air.

The hum of electric city busses on wires and honking traffic created a temporary, nostalgic reprieve. She’d missed so many things about Seattle when she moved to Minnesota. The briny crab smell from the Puget Sound mixed with the evergreen trees, the mild temperature, the Olympics peeking out from the clouds while Rainier waved from the south.

Her phone pinged. She dug it out of her purse and saw the sender of the email: “University of Minnesota Master of Nursing Program Admissions.” She stared at the words as tunnel vision developed. The people walking past her with hoodies snugged over their ears and bike riders whizzing by blurred in the background. Her trembling fingers hovered over the scroll tab. She had to read it and accept her fate. But knowing her entire life was on this screen made her want to puke.

She gripped the phone in her palm, then selected FaceTime. As soon as the call connected, Maya blurted out, “The graduate admissions office sent me an email.”

“And?” her best friend, Sophie, asked. After a long pause, she exhaled. “You didn’t open it, did you?”

Avoidance was Maya’s next best friend, and Sophie knew the drill. When they had dated as freshmen in high school, which was so weird to think about now, Maya didn’t answer her phone and ate in the library for two weeks to avoid the dreaded, yet inevitable, breakup conversation. She couldn’t stomach looking at the face of someone she disappointed. “Did you see your barber today?”

Sophie ran a flattened hand across her buzzed head. “Freshly shaved just like my—nope. Stop distracting me. You’ve got to read the email.”

She shook out her trembling hand. Everything she had gone through, all the promises she’d made—to herself, tohim—the years her mother spent worrying, all led to the contents of this Calibri-fonted email. Acid built in her stomach, and she breathed through a sharp metallic taste. “I can’t, Soph. What if they’ve denied me?”

“Then we figure it out.” Sophie brought a mug to her lips. “How about you read it out loud? Or forward to me and I’ll read it for you.”

The brick wall dug into her back, and she switched positions. “No. I can do this. Hang on.” She flipped off FaceTime, opened the email, and took an unsteady breath. “Dear Maya Marek. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the fall master’s program?—”

“Accepted!” Sophie clapped her hands. “You effing did it!”

Maya’s heart thumped so ferociously that she almost dropped the phone. She scanned the email again. And one more time, reading each word as slowly as she could. “Accepted. I can’t… I didn’t think I would.” She continued reading, ignoring the honking city street in the background. Bursts of memories flashed by—crying in the library, study sessions, colored highlighters over textbooks. She actually did it.He’d be so proud.

“Please see the attachment for the cost associated with the program, and the offered financial aid package. Congratulations, and looking forward to having you join us in the fall.” She scrolled through all the information. “Oh, God.”

“What? What is it?” Sophie asked.

Her breath ripped from her lungs. She flipped FaceTime back on to see her friend. “They denied the scholarship and financial aid.”

Sophie lowered her mug. “I don’t understand. Why?”

“Because I’m considered a dependent on my mom, and my mom’s promotion last year pushed me over the aid threshold.”

Sophie scrunched her nose. “You haven’t asked your mom for money since your sixteenth birthday.”

Maya kneaded a knuckle into her temple. “I know, but it’s complicated. It’s based on age, not on the money given to you by your parent.”

Sophie’s mouth twisted. Forgoing college to start work immediately, Sophie never dealt with issues like mid-terms and financial aid. And in less than five years after graduating high school, she made more money at a creative agency than Maya would dream about making as a nurse for several years.

“Do I have this right?” Sophie said. “We’ve got a good news, bad news sitch here. Good news, you got accepted! Right?”

“Yes, but bad news is that I don’t have the money for it.”

“How much is that?”

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