Racing down the hall, she nearly plows into her best friend, shoes leaving squeal marks during her stop. She waves a paper and envelope in front of his face, closing his locker to get there. He takes a step back, scowling. “What’s that for?”
She beams. “I got in.”
His face drops, then he blinks. “Wait, what? They already got back to you?”
“Yes! Tychus, I got in!” She jumps up and down, eyes tight with glee, whinying with delight.
He hides a disheartened sigh in the commotion, yanking on a supportive face and smiling, trying to hide the pain. He nods, forcing himself to focus on the happy parts of the news instead of the part that tells him he’ll soon be without his friend. “Congrats, Marie; I’m happy for you.”
Clutching the letter tight to her chest, she shakes with delight. “Thank you! I knew you’d share my joy with me. Victory wouldn’t taste nearly as sweet without you.”
With a scoff, he raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, I bet.”
Breathing deeply, she re-opens her eyes. Her smile fades. “Tychus? What’s wrong?”
Always paying attention… “The irony of that statement hit me just right. Don’t mind me.”
“Irony?” She blinks repeatedly. “Tychus, what are you talking about?”
“Nothing; never mind. Just,” he grins firmly for her, turning to face her as he shoulders his backpack. “Just, congratulations… and don’t forget about the little people.” He starts down the hallway.
Her face contorts; she follows him. “What an odd thing to say. Should I already be working on my closing night speech?”
“What?”
“I get the distinct feeling we’re not talking about the same thing.”
He pauses, turning to her, eyebrow cocked. “College?”
She laughs aloud. “No, the spring musical! I did well in the callbacks and got a role!” Shaking her head, she balks. “I just sent in my top tier applications last week; I doubt the schools even know I exist yet. Is that what you’re worried about, Tychus? It’s only autumn! We have the rest of the year to figure out next year.”
“Says the one getting into the Ivies.”
“Pffft,” she waves him off. “I didn’t even apply to any of those schools, much to my mother’s chagrin.”
“See,” he raises his palm, “who even uses the word ‘chagrin’ while talking to friends?”
“Uhm, I do,” she points out, “and you do, and anyone who likes fun words does. Are you seriously upset about my using the fun words in my vocabulary?”
“Nobody uses ‘fun’ words but you, Marie.” He raises his arms and then drops them, turning to continue down the hallway.
Her brows furrow and she shakes her head. “That’s not true. Plenty of people do – including you.” As he starts, she follows him. “Tychus, what’s going on? Did you not get your applications out? There’s still time. Can I help?”
He tosses a hand in her face, pausing them both. “No. Drop it.”
“Drop what?”
He grinds his teeth, looking away.
“Why are we trying to cross a river when we don’t even know if that’s the right direction yet? Talk to me, Tychus.”
Exhaling hard, he turns back to her. “This is our last year together.” She opens her mouth, but quickly closes it, forcing herself to let him say his piece, his whole piece. “We both know we’re not going to the same school. Maybe we’ll send each other Christmas cards, but we won’t see each other after graduation. I’d like to just enjoy the time we have together before letting the inevitable come between us.”
She waits patiently, but he’s done. Clearing her throat quietly, she bites her cheek. “I’d like to start my speech by pointing out that I better get to see you each Christmas ’cause we’ll both be here regardless of where we end up.” He rolls his eyes, but a smile creases his face. “I need to mention that it isn’t necessarily inevitable, but even if it ends up happening, that won’t be the end of us. It can’t be. I’ll still need you, Tychus, whether I end up in Boston or Cambridge, Seattle or Beijing.”
His head whips around. “Did you really apply to schools in Beijing?”
She grins. “I applied all over. The point is that geography isn’t the point: we’ve got all sorts of tech to stay connected, so while it won’t be the same, it won’t be signing the death certificate of our friendship, either.”
He nods. “You should’ve applied to Oxford.”
“I considered it, but I know that I love Cambridge from my summer there, and I don’t know that I could make a trip to test out the aura of Oxford. Besides, I think I’d generally prefer to stay Stateside but do a semester abroad; my Cambridge application was more an ode to the wistful past than an honest belief that I could even get in.”
“Where else did you apply?”
She eyes him, careful to note the slight tilt of his head to his left side, the one slightly-dropped eyebrow, the tense shoulders. “Not now; we can talk about it after class, maybe while you’re deciding where you’re applying to so we can end up at the same school.”
“Not likely.”
“True; most schools are unlikely to take two awesome candidates from the same school. We’ll need to devise a plot where one of us graduates somewhere else before we can hope for that plan to work.”
“You,” he nods, “are insane.”
“We should be able to end up in the same city even if you don’t want to take such drastic measures,” she assures him, chin held high as she leads the way to the classroom. “In the time we have after your applications go out, we’ll need to work on my acceptance speech for the Grammy Awards.”
He laughs. “You’re acting in a school play; I doubt there’ll be talent scouts here.”
“Unless we apply to a music school and invite them to our performance!”
“‘Our performance?’ Marie, I didn’t even try out for the production. I’m not going to be in it.”
“We shall see about that. But first,” she lifts her eyes to the door in front of them, “well, I suppose first is class. But second!” She smiles as he laughs at her antics. “Second is we make sure you’re putting your name in for the schools you’re interested in. Once that’s done, then we can work on the school play. Savvy?”
Smirking, he shakes his head at the floor. “There’s just no dimming your optimism, is there?”
“Nope.” He laughs, and she smiles. “Instead, let’s get the work party started so we get where we want to be.”
He nods, turning toward the door and reaching for the handle. “I hear that.”
“Tychus.”
He pauses, turning to her.
She smiles. “Thank you. We’ll make it through this.”
He smiles back, opening the door for her. “We always do.”
