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jake
WAY 2 BAIL LOSER. U BETTER B SPITTING UP BLOOD.
I turned off my phone after the tenth angry text from my swim teammates and tossed it onto the coffee table. They were pissed that I’d missed today’s meet, but if I had my way, I’d be missing a lot more. When I’d talked my mother into letting me stay home again she’d said fine, but I was going on Wednesday no matter what. Yeah. We’d see about that.
What was the point, anyway? College applications were due, like, now. I’d scored myself a solid low-C average for the first half of the year, and those were the grades they were going to see. Who cared if I flunked the rest of the year? I saw no point in sitting in class for the next six months. It was over. I was going to community college. If I was lucky.
The doorbell rang and I stayed where I was, on the couch in front of the Duke-Clemson basketball game. Then I heard footsteps behind me.
“Hey.”
I turned around, stu
She was the only person I hadn’t gotten a text from today, so I figured she was mad about me blowing her off yesterday. Her being here now was a surprise.
“Feeling any better?” she asked.
She came around the side of the sectional couch and sat down next to me, but kept a safe distance.
“Um, yeah,” I muted the TV and sat up straight. “Sorry about yesterday. I got into it with Chloe and—”
“Yeah. She told me.”
My face felt hot. “She told you? I can’t believe you’re even speaking to—”
Ally held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about Chloe. Actually I think we should talk about anything other than Chloe.”
I motorboated my lips and slumped back again. “Sounds good to me.”
“So … I talked to the coach at Rutgers today,” she said, putting on a bright smile as she shimmied out of her coat.
“Yeah?” I said.
“Looks like I’m going to be a Lady Knight,” Ally said.
I felt this ridiculous surge of excitement, followed by complete jealousy. “Yeah? That’s great!” I reached over and hugged her.
“I know, right?” Ally said. “She said to send my application through her and it would be taken care of.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as I sat back again. “You sure you want to stay so close to home? I thought UNC was calling your name.”
Ally lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. Rutgers has a great program and they need forwards right now, so I might actually get playing time next year. Plus it feels far enough away that I can live there, but close enough that if I get homesick I can come home. I think it’ll be good.”
“Good,” I said. And if I’m at Bergen Community next year, I’ll get to see you whenever you do get homesick.
“So what about you? How’re the applications coming?” Ally asked, bouncing back on the couch, and a little closer to me.
“They’re nonexistent,” I replied.
“What?” she asked.
I shrugged, picked up the remote again, and turned up the sound. The Duke fans were chanting while the timer ticked down. “What’s the point? I’m not getting in anywhere, so …”
“They don’t just look at your grades, you know,” Ally said, sounding very cheerleader-y. “There’s your sports and your job … and you aced a college course last summer. That has to count for something.”
I scoffed. When I thought about that class, I thought about Chloe, who’d taken it with me. And thinking about Chloe was dangerous at the moment.
“Right, so how am I supposed to explain my two-point-oh average after acing a college class?” I said, turning my palms up. “‘Sorry, admissions board, I got lazy’?”
Ally chewed on the inside of her cheek for a second. She rested the side of her head on her hand, her elbow on the back of the couch. Then she sat up straight.
“I’ve got it! The essay!” she said, gri
“What do you mean?”
“You explain the first two semesters’ grades with your essay! You tell the truth!” she exclaimed.
I laughed so hard I thought my ribs might crack. “Are you serious?”
“I’m totally serious!” Ally pulled her school-issued laptop out of her bag and powered it up. “Everyone wants a personal statement, right? So we write an essay about the pregnancy scare, how much it affected you, how much it changed you … but most important, how it matured you and made you see what’s important in life.”
I blinked. “What’s that?”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Hard work. Getting good grades. Pla
I muted the TV again and sat up straight. I did dimly recall one of the lecturers at one of our many college-pla
“Dude. This could actually work,” I said.
“See? Something good could come out of all of this,” she replied happily.
Out of nowhere, I felt mushy and choked up. I stared at Ally as she opened up Word and started a new document. What had I done to deserve a girlfriend like her? I’ll tell you what: nothing. Zippo. Nada. She’d stuck by me through the miles and miles of crap with Chloe. I’d slammed a door in her face just yesterday and now here she was, helping me. Either she was completely deranged, or she honestly did love me.
“Ally?” I said.
“Yeah?”
“You’re kind of awesome, you know that, right?” I said.
Ally gri
I cracked up. “Good. Because you are.”
Then I leaned in to kiss her and she kissed me back.
“Okay. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s start writing,” she said.
As we got down to business, I made my first New Year’s resolution. From here on out I was going to be the best boyfriend ever. Now that Chloe and the baby were out of the picture, I could focus my energy on Ally. And I was going to do whatever it took to deserve her.
ally
When the doorbell rang on Wednesday afternoon, my mom and I both went to get it at the same time. She glanced outside and paused.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s your father,” she replied, her tone unreadable.
My heart skipped a nervous beat. I hadn’t been alone with both my parents since last summer, and none of those meetings had gone very well. At least if he was going to show up at our doorstep, he’d picked a moment when Gray was at work and Qui
“Hello, Christopher,” my mother said coolly.
“Melanie,” he replied with a nod. Then he turned his attention my way. “Congratulations, kiddo!” he shouted, shoving a huge gift bag at me. He pulled me into a hug, and the balloon ribbons tangled around our arms.
“Um, thanks!” I said as my mother closed the door behind him. “What’s with the gift?”
“Open it up!” he said happily, shoving his hands under his arms.
His wool hat was pulled low over his brow, and his nose was red from the cold. He made no move to take off his coat, and my mom didn’t ask him to. Feeling a little awkward standing in the middle of Gray’s marble foyer with my estranged parents, I put the bag on the floor and tugged out the tissue paper. Inside was a huge black teddy bear wearing a red Rutgers sweatshirt.
“This is so cute!” I said, turning it around to show my mom.
“Aw, Chris. You didn’t have to do that,” my mother said, smiling nonetheless. Well, at least she was thawing.
“Are you kidding? It’s not every day your only daughter decides on a college,” my father said. “There’s more in there, you know.”
I pawed through the bag and found a black Rutgers hoodie, a set of Rutgers pencils, a laptop cover, a pair of fla