Today is different, however, because today, on top of our stack of crumpled mail is a large white envelope, pristine and undisturbed.
For that, I will love my mailman forever.
My hands tremble when I reach in and pull out the envelope. I’m too scared to look at it and too excited not to. And when I finally peek at the return address, my heart leaps up into my throat.
It’s from Stanford.
I decide immediately that I don’t want to open it inside. I don’t want all six of my family members breathing down my neck. So I stand there, my feet in the street, and rip open the envelope as cars drive by behind me.
Dear Amaría,
Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to the Stanford University Class of 2025.
I hold in the scream.
But just barely.
Then, very calmly, I put the letter back in the envelope and hide it behind my back while I go into the house. Once I’m inside and certain no one is paying attention to me, I slip the envelope into my backpack and hike it onto my back while stepping into my shoes.
“I’m going to the library to study!” I call to no one in particular, and then I make a run for it.
AMY
I GO STRAIGHT to Oli’s dad’s house in Independence. I haven’t actually been there yet but Oli sent me the address as soon as he moved, and I plug it into the GPS on my phone. I don’t see any vehicles besides Oli’s truck in the driveway, and I pray that his father isn’t home. I don’t want to share this moment with anyone but Oli.
As soon as he opens the door, I throw my arms around his neck.
“Hey,” he says, and I don’t miss the fact that he’s freshly showered, his hair still wet and his skin smelling like soap.
I push him away so that I can reach behind me to pull the letter out of my backpack. When I wave it in his face, his eyes go wide.
“Did you…?” He snatches it out of my hand and his eyes scan over the page before he lunges at me, lifting me off my feet.
I laugh into his neck, but when he sets me down, the laughter fades and next thing I know, we’re kissing. I’m not even sure who initiates it, but he lifts me off the ground, walking with me wrapped around him, down a hallway.
“Is your dad home?” I pull back to gasp.
He shakes his head and then covers my mouth with his again. I close my eyes and clutch him tight until I feel his bed beneath me. He’s kissing me everywhere he can reach, and I’m trying not to shake with nerves.
“Are you sure?” I ask when he sits up on his knees to take his shirt off.
He nods and then he’s on top of me again, his weight the most welcome pressure. “I love you,” he says. “I want to. Do you want to?”
I nod. I let him take my clothes off and then watch him as he takes off his own. When he comes down on top of me and his hips find mine, I bite him on the soft curve of his shoulder.
And he whispers that he loves me over and over.
OLIVER
EVERYTHING SEEMS A little like bliss on Tuesday. I have a hard time focusing at work, choosing instead to daydream about Amy’s skin, about Amy’s arms around me, about the sound Amy made last night when her nails dug into my shoulder.
“Dear God,” Brooke says to me when she comes into the stockroom to check on me. “Could you be any more obvious?”
My mood falters a little, but only a little because I don’t think the actual apocalypse could kill my mood right now. “Obvious about what?”
Brooke leans against the wall, crosses her arms over her chest, and sends me an oh please look. “It couldn’t be any more obvious that you got laid last night if you were wearing a neon sign. In fact, I think I have an I got lucky sign in the back of my car; want me to go get it?”
I roll my eyes, and my smile slips all the way. “Shut up, Brooke. It’s none of your business.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. That was a defensive response. Must have been really special.”
Special. What a mediocre word for what happened last night.
Brooke leans against the shelf beside me and smiles. “You know, it’s nice to see you happy.”
I send her a look. “It’s not like I’ve been distraught in the past.”
She shrugs. “Not far from it.”
I sit down on the low shelf and mess around with a stack of vinyl. “Getting kicked out sucked, but at least now I don’t have to pretend anymore. I feel … free.”
Brooke sighs and sits next to me, throwing her arm around my shoulders. “Welcome to the adult world, Oliver. We’re happy to have you. The only question now is, where do you go from here?”
My hand freezes, and my eyes slide over to her, and she must know, from the way her mouth is tilted in an uncertain expression, that she’s asked me a question I don’t know the answer to.
AMY
AFTER CLASS ON Wednesday, I decide to go past the admin office, and I’m a nervous wreck. My weekly trips to check on my rank quickly dissolved when I found out about the tie, mostly because I’m completely terrified to know. Like Schrödinger’s Cat, if I never stop by to ask, I can be first in class as easily as I can be second.
“Amaría Richardson,” Mrs. Grimes calls out to me through her open door. Like always, I take a seat across the desk from her, but I’ve never been this nervous before. For so long, I’ve been confident about my rank, and now I’m terrified.
She doesn’t say a word. She knows why I’m here, and she immediately starts clicking around on her computer almost as soon as I’ve sat down.
She squints at the screen, her eyebrows furrowing deeply and her mouth pulled down into a frown. Then she writes the number down and slides it across the desk to me.
I’ve always known there was a chance that Petra was going to creep up on me. But I haven’t dropped below the number one spot since halfway through junior year.
Today, the sticky note says 2, and my stomach plummets into my shoes.
I just stare down at it, nodding, like my physical agreement with this particular event unfolding can make it hurt less. “Okay,” I finally say, my fist closing around the sticky note. “Okay.”
Mrs. Grimes looks at me with pity in her eyes, but she doesn’t offer her sympathies, which I’m perfectly fine with. It isn’t like she can say she’s sorry. She can’t be sorry to see some other student succeeding. And I guess I can’t be sorry, either. Petra worked for it, and so will I.
“Have a nice day,” Mrs. Grimes says quietly as I turn and walk out of her office.
I walk straight to the nearest girl’s bathroom and lock myself in the very last stall.
Second. I’m second. I can’t be the salutatorian. I have to be valedictorian or I’m not eligible for the Keller Scholarship.
I press myself against the wall, cover my face with my hands, and try not to cry. I will not cry over this. But I can feel the ache in my throat. I’ve worked so hard.
But I’ve been distracted.
Distracted by Spirits. Distracted by Oliver. Distracted by all of it.
Something has to change.
AMY
AT WORK, I smile up at Oli as best as I can, let him kiss me when no one’s looking, and then beg Brooke to put me in the back room when it’s time for my assignment. I don’t normally like the back room. I much prefer to work with customers. But today, I want to sit in the quiet, not have to look anyone in the eye, especially Oli.