18 Things (25 page)

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Authors: Jamie Ayres

Tags: #Children's Books, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy & Magic, #Literature & Fiction, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Paranormal & Urban, #Children's eBooks, #Science Fiction; Fantasy & Scary Stories

BOOK: 18 Things
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Tonight was the biggest game of the season. If the Bucs pulled off a win, we’d make it to the playoffs. We’d been working on the numbers for weeks now, which involved a medley of all the best parts of the routines we did this year. We ran, skipped, and jumped onto the field, shaking our pom poms above our heads.

The loud music and cool air hit me all at once, motivating to cheer my booty off even more, just to get warm. Everything blurred as we raced into formation. Perfection didn’t even come close to describing my arabesque in the pyramid. They tossed me into the air, and I completed a toe touch before returning to the cradle of girls who caught me.

I’d never felt so carefree.

My final move of the night included a round off, back handspring split combo—it still amazed me that I’d somehow perfected that move—and the crowd went wild with their cheers when we finished.

Over five thousand people attended tonight’s game, a record, and my parents sat among them. Mom and I had our heart-to-heart when I arrived home from sailing. So Nate won the bet, although I had no idea what he’d claim as his prize.

I spotted him sitting next to Mom and Dad in the stands directly in front of us. My chest filled with warm fuzzies, and I smiled for them alone.

“Nurture an appetite for being puzzled,
for being confused, indeed for being openly stupid.”
―Lee C. Bollinger, 12th President of UM

University of Michigan

1220 Student Activities Building

550 East Jefferson

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

The Seventeenth of February

Dear Ms. Worontzoff,

Congratulations on your admission to the University of Michigan. It gives me great pleasure to send you this letter, and you have every reason to feel proud of the work leading to this moment.

In evaluating candidates, the Admissions Committee seeks to identify students whose academic achievement, diverse talents, and strength of character will make them feel at home in this remarkable community academically ranked in the top twenty among the world’s universities. We look forward to you becoming a vital contributor to the University’s mission.

While the final candidate’s reply date is May first, we would love to hear from you before then. On April sixteenth, your future classmates will visit UM for Wolverine Campus Day, our program for admitted students, and we hope you join them. To register for this event and to connect with other admitted students, please visit our website at http://www.umich.edu. You can also e-mail us with any questions regarding our school. Welcome to the University of Michigan!

Sincerely,

Spencer Carver

University of Michigan

Dean of Undergraduate Admissions

 

ith my heart pounding so loud my eardrums ached, I sprinted to the front door, waving my letter in the air with the other unopened mail and squealed, “I’m in, I’m in, I’m in!”

Dad paused the last episode of the tv series
LOST
and then wrapped me in a monstrous hug.

“Congratulations!” He cupped my face in his hands. “Of course, there was never any doubt in this old man’s mind.” He tapped the side of his head. “Especially after your SAT score of 2130; you could’ve gotten into Harvard.” Elbowing me playfully in my side, he said, “Not too late to apply.”

I mulled that thought over for a second and then sighed. “My scholarship is contingent upon attending college in-state.”

“I know, but we can work out something, hun.”

I felt the sincere energy oozing from his words. “It’s okay, Dad. This is what we’ve been working toward my whole life.”

Mom entered the living room in her robe, toweling off her wet hair. “What are you two going on about in here?”

I handed over my acceptance letter, and she read it carefully. I expected a formal congratulations. Instead, she clasped her wrinkled hands to her chest as her body shook with happy tears.

“Well done, Olga. I’m so proud of you.”

From the time I was a little girl, I’d been waiting to hear those five words from my mother, and I scarcely believed my ears. Yet I had this surreal out-of-body feeling, like I wasn’t here at all, so the emotional punch of it didn’t reach my core.

“Let’s eat my homemade chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast to celebrate and then I’m calling all our friends and family to brag.”

Not hearing her talk in her pissed voice after so many months of it felt weird, not that I complained.

In the kitchen my laptop rested on the small table and I took a seat in front of my computer to blog about my acceptance letter. No sooner had I finished my pancakes, Nate called.
Of course
, I thought as looked at the Caller ID. Nate was always the first to read my blog, which boasted over one thousand followers these days. I pushed my chair out and stood by the window overlooking our pond, shaking my head and sighing as he rambled on and on about how he was proud of me.

The feeling was mutual.

After the Cantankerous Monkey Squad won the Battle of the Bands during the Coast Guard Festival in September, they performed a few more gigs where Alan from Mixed Tape Records brought some bigwigs. By the end of November, they’d signed a contract, each member receiving a thousand dollar advance, but they’d just started recording their new album this past week after school. The plan was to have it done by May. Alan was already busy negotiating a tour for them. The band would be a good match as an opening act for several of Mixed Tape’s well-known bands, and the tour would most likely last the entire summer.

I knew this meant I should be pulling back. We were both on to bigger and better things. But every time I hung out with him, that became more of a lost cause than ever.

“So there aren’t many things left on your list, but I thought going on the biggest rollercoaster in the U.S. would be the perfect way to party,” Nate told me.

I cocked my head to the side, studying Mom at the sink, soaping up dishes. “When?”

“Tomorrow. If we leave by six, we’d get there by eleven when they open. They close at eight, so tell your parents we’ll be home around one in the morning.”

“Okay, hang on a sec.” I covered up the receiver with my hand. “Mom, Nate wants to visit Cedar Point tomorrow to celebrate. Can I go?”

“Cedar Point in Ohio?”

It annoyed me when she asked dumb questions like that. What other Cedar Point was there? But I had to watch myself. “Yep. It’s number five on my list. Go on the biggest roller coaster.”

“Oh my goodness.” Mom placed a hand over her heart. “That’d scare the bejesus out of me! What about church?”

I’d never missed church unless throw up was involved. “It’s a five-hour drive. I can listen to a sermon on the radio or bring my Bible along and have my own church time.”

She brushed a curl out of her face. “Well, I don’t think they’ll even be open when it’s still winter. It’s usually in the thirties this time of year.”

True, but spring came early for the second year in a row. Grand Haven already made it to sixty degrees, and since we were heading south, logic told me it was warmer there. Echoing my thoughts, Nate interrupted with an announcement on the other end, apparently still able to hear everything even with the receiver covered.

“They decided to open it up for the holiday weekend since the weather is so good.” President’s Day was on Monday. “The meteorologists are saying it’ll be a record, averaging highs in the low seventies.”

Repeating the information to Mom, she still seemed hardly convinced of letting me proceed with our travel plans. “Is anyone else going?”

“I didn’t ask anyone else yet, but I’ll invite Sean and Kyle, and you can call up Nicole and Tammy,” Nate said.

“Sean, Kyle, Nicole, and Tammy,” I repeated, not mentioning they actually weren’t confirmed yet. “Please, please, please, Mom, can I go?”

The sound of the kitchen light buzzed overhead, and I knotted my fingers together, praying she’d say yes.

“Elizabeth, letting go, remember?” Dad said from his Lazy Boy recliner, reminding her of our conversation in November when they agreed they’d accept the decisions I made now as those of a mature adult.

So technically, I didn’t need her permission, but internally I did. If that made any sense.

She stepped forward, drying a coffee cup with her towel, then slid a damp hand over my shoulder.

“You’re right, John,” she called over her shoulder, then turned back to me. “You’ve worked hard all year and deserve a break. But you should listen to a radio sermon on the way there.”

I nodded and uncovered the receiver, not that my hand being there did anything. “You hear?”

“Roger that. You call the girls and see if Tammy can drive. Be here by five forty-five on the dot. I’ll have coffee waiting.”

I smiled. I wasn’t used to getting what I wanted, but I liked the feeling.

“For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven…” Father Jamie read from Ecclesiastes. Mom found a CD in her archives of sermons and gave it to me before we left, said she thought it’d be a good message for me to hear.

“Do we really have to listen to this load of crap?” Tammy asked from next to me as I turned up the volume.

I pressed my finger to my lips.

“The point Solomon is making is God has a plan for all people,” Father Jamie continued. “Although we may face numerous problems seeming to contradict God’s plan, these shouldn’t be barriers but opportunities to turn a negative into a positive. It’s up to you to make the best of your time, to live your dreams, to discover your purpose. As we see in these verses, timing is very important. All the experiences listed in these verses are appropriate at certain times. The secret to peace is to accept and appreciate God’s perfect timing. So know there is light at the end of every long, dark tunnel. Be strong, and wait for a new morning, where fresh opportunity knocks on every door who seeks it.”

I hit the FM button and cranked up the volume, deciding to spare Tammy any more religious jargon since it was, after all, her vehicle. I didn’t always agree with Father Jamie’s messages, but as I watched the changing landscape while Tammy drove, I must admit I agreed with this one. Ten months ago, I would’ve felt differently. Back then, I couldn’t see the light or even imagine it. As I looked out at the world passing by, it seemed everything in my life was a sunny sky.

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