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“There have been some recent developments,” he says, finally. “At our latest staff meeting, quite a few of our professors raved about your continued work ethic and determination to stay weeks ahead on all your assignments, despite the time that you’ve had to use for your punishment.”
And all the time I’ve spent on the phone with Mr. Donovan…
“In light of that, I’ve decided that you can attend the upcoming Boston College Tour,” he says. “If you continue to do your cleaning work and there are no other issues before the December break, I will rescind four demerits and consider returning a few more privileges.”
“Thank you, sir.” I stand up to leave. “I appreciate this.”
“Not so fast.” He picks up a stack of mail. “I wanted to personally deliver these.”
The shields on the edges tell me all I need to know: Dartmouth, Yale, Harvard, and Brown.
“Thank you so much! Can I take off and open these in private?”
“Of course.” He smiles. “Congratulations in advance.”
Tucking the packets into my bag, I run across campus and lock myself in my room. I take out my acceptance scrapbook, a glittering purple folder I’ve worked on since I was in seventh grade.
Accepted. Accepted. Accepted.
I save the dream of Harvard for last, but my heart sinks at the sight of the phrase, “We regret to inform you…”
It sinks even deeper when I see the dreaded “w” word.
I’ve been waitlisted?
My tears soak the page, and I don’t bother reading the rest of it.
11
LIAM
One Week Later
Has Genevieve died without anyone mentioning it?
I refresh my screen for the umpteenth time, but it still doesn’t show a response from her. She’s not answering my calls, and I’m honestly starved for some decent conversation.
“Um, hello, Mr. Donovan? Can you hear me?”
I snap out of my thoughts and try to be present in the classroom. “Yes?”
“I was saying that we need to rethink celebrating the works of someone like William Faulkner,” Courtney Braun says. “He was a raging drunk, and we should support the authors who weren’t.”
“You have to learn how to separate the art from the artist.”
“Not if I don’t want to.” She crosses her arms. “I refuse to read any more of his work, so I would appreciate it if you offer me an alternative.”
“Speaking of ‘alternative,’” Elizabeth Smith chimes in, “I would like to read some books where the men actually know howto write the spicy moments. It’s quite telling that they have no idea what they’re talking about.”
“I’m not assigning any alternative books.”
“Then we’re not reading.” Courtney hands me a list. “Here is an approved list of authors.”
“Okay.” I don’t bother glancing at it. “Class dismissed.”
As they leave, I send Genevieve a message.
Me
