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Transformed Chapter 2
After school ended, I caught up with Jocelyn, who was talking to her friends, Steve and Dinco, about what I think might have been makeup.
I never have her in my last class, Technology, because she said it was too ‘nerdy’ for her.
I wanted to say hi to and talk to her, but, even though I don’t really mind her chatting to her friends about that stuff, I had to admit I really wasn’t very interested in her favorite topics at the moment, and instead was desperate to get back to my house and check the mail for college acceptance letters, which should have arrived early in the morning, but after I had left for school already. Jocelyn had already planned out my entire life: while she would go buy a house with her parent’s money, learn to cook, and get settled down, I will take four years of law school, and in the beginning of the third year we’ll get married, so if I don’t get accepted into a college I would like to go to, then the entire plan will be ruined. Therefore, I was really anxious to see if I got accepted or not.
After I made my decision to leave immediately rather than talking to Joyce, I jogged quickly to her, gave her light kiss and hug from the back, and whispered in her ear, “I am going to go home now.”
I watched her profile frown. “So soon? Why can’t you stay a little while, and then we could go out to dinner or something and then do homework. Yah, Christian, why don’t we do that?”
I rested my forehead against the curve of her soft neck, “College acceptance letters arrived today, and I must know the results, Joyce.”
“Oh yes! I almost forgot,” she cackled. “Good luck. You better have gotten into a good college, or....”She paused.
I smiled against her skin, “Or...what? You won’t want to marry me anymore?” An artificial laugh escaped my mouth.
The ends of her lips drooped. “No, I was thinking...well yah, but it isn’t just that, we won’t be able to get married, because you won’t....Well, nevermind, I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“Yep,” I noticed the disappointment in my voice.
She stepped away from and turned to face me. “So....I guess that I’ll see you later then? Maybe we can do something tomorrow after school, then, and you can call me and tell me what college you got into today, or tell me tomorrow, when we go out to dinner or something.”
I smiled, attempting to hide the pressure building up in my heart. What will happen if I don’t get accepted? Joyce will be so disappointed. “Bye. I’ll see you later.” I kissed her one last time, turned, and began running to the parking lot of the school. I heard her yell, “Call me later!” and then return to her previous discussion of ‘womanly’ topics...
When I had gotten out of the school and into the parking lot, I climbed onto my airbike and rumbled up to my house. I had named it Celer when I got it for my fourteenth birthday, for I had been learning a very old language called Latin, and Celer means speed, so I figured that I would be clever and name it in a unique way. An airbike is a....fairly new, invented about 25 years ago... mechanic, which unlike an old-styled bicycle, that most people in my school have, it can go ten times faster, without much effort, but still allows some exercise; there is very low friction and the chains are very different from an old bicycle.
Approximately twenty minutes after I had left Skyline, I arrived at my house, address: 5673 Monteka Tip Drive, on the highest summit of Mount Olympus. My father of course, is the richest man in Utah, being a modern architect in other countries or states, so I live in a rich-family neighborhood, while Joyce lives a few streets down from me.
My house is only 7500 square feet, but is known for its ‘traditional’ and beautiful look. I parked Celer in the driveway and walked to the front door.
“Who. is. it,” a womanly robot voice questioned.
“Chris,” I responded slightly annoyed, for I really wanted to get to my mail. The doors slowly slid open to the side, and I walked in, immediately going towards the kitchen.
My mother was standing next to the granite-topped island, chopping vegetables, but she looked towards me and smiled, showing her white teeth. “Hi Mom.”
“Oh, hi sweety. How was school?,” she began cutting again.
I shrugged, “Good.”
“How was history? Did that girl...”
The tips of my mouth turned downwards, “Yah, again, Dr. Donacute picked her to answer all the questions instead of me. I mean, there was one really easy questions by Lina about how many states there are, and both Pelatina and I raised our hands, and he always picked her.” Earlier that morning, I had yelled at her to tell me her name because I didn’t know it, and didn’t care either, but I know who she is. She has always been the smartest in the school and we are always put in the same classes. I usually find myself wondering how she gets all of the teachers to like and always call on her
My mother stepped towards me, gave me a quick hug, and then returned to what she was doing again. “I’m sorry, Chris. Have you tried talking to your teacher?”
“No, but I should probably do that sometime this week.” I promised.
She walked over to the counter to a stack of paper, and my eyes widened.
“Oh, Chris, I forgot to tell you, I think your college ac...”
I sprinted towards her, grabbed the letters from her, “Thanks mom!!” and turned to run up the stairs to my room, looking at the addresses of the letters as I went.
I had only sent out applications to seven or so colleges because most of the existing ones are advertised on T.V. of which the message usually is, ‘Don’t come to this college, it is a waste of your money’, or have too much competition because too many teenagers are trying to get accepted.
Harvard, Stanford, and Mallard are very old schools, but my dad has always wanted me to go to one of them because he went to Mallard, and thinks that they are all very good, compared to all the newer ones that just take your money.
On the other hand, Pontiserant and Frescno are modern, determined, and difficult colleges, and have never advertised even once on T.V. I figured that I would at least try to get accepted because Joyce, of course, didn’t want me to go to an old school because that is where all of the ‘lower-class nerds’ go, and I am not like that, I ‘have to go to a good, nice, privileged school, of which employees will want to give jobs in return for going to’.
Once, I had gotten to the top of the stairs and found my way into my room, the last door on the right or the hallway, I plopped down on the gel chair next to my desk.
I got my letter-opener out of a drawer and placed the letter by Stanford in the left side of it; immediately, the letter came out of the right side perfectly unfolded, where it had been glued.
I pulled out the piece of paper, which had been hidden inside the envelope; it read:
Dear Christian Snyder,
We thank you for your application, but we are sorry to return it saying that you have not been accepted into Stanford University for the year 2167-2168.Each year, we accept 2800 students, and your result is 3024.
If you have any questions about anything, or your place marker, please call, and we will respond as quickly as possible, with the following information:
What! Stanford was my second choice. How did I not get in? I slumped forward and buried my face in my arms for several minutes before sitting up again.
I picked the Pontiserent letter out from under the bottom and opened it. I closed my eyes, before reading it. I hope they accept me. I hope they accept me. I opened one eye slowly, and then squinted the other.
Dear Christian Snyder,
Pontiserant University is pleased to tell you that we have accepted your law school application for 2167-2168. You placed 8476 out of 10000 accepted applicants. Congratulations, and we hope you will be attending Pontiserant in the fall.
You will be receiving further information about the college and school year within the next 7 months.
If you have any questions, please email or call using the following contacts:
A bubble of happiness formed in my stomach. Everyone will be so proud of me, especially at school. Everyone in my class will applaud me, and Joyce will love me forever. I couldn’t believe it. I got accepted into Pontiserant - a school that hundreds of million try to get into every year!
Now, Pelatina won’t have anything to brag about anymore, because I doubt that she even got into any colleges-she never was very intelligent, compared to me. Even though she is smarter than Joyce and everyone else in the school, she would never actually....
I leaned back on my chair and breathed deeply, relieved that all of the pressure that had been building up was gone.
I quickly read through the other letters; the only other college that I got accepted into was Mallard, barely by 20 or so applicants, so at least my father would not be able to complain any more.
But, immediately I noticed the problem that would form. Joyce would want me to go to Pontiserant, but my dad would only allow me to go to Mallard. I will just have to talk to Joyce about it tomorrow, but I will spread the word today.
So.. in the next half an hour, I posted the news on facebook and myspace, and then I ran downstairs, and placed the letters from Mallard and Pontiserant on my dad’s desk, hoping he would read them and be satisfied, and not lose his temper and, without a choice, force me to go to Mallard.