The Rearranged Life (26 page)

I click.

We regret to inform you…

No. No, no, no. I stand up and scan the e-mail for a JUST KIDDING! and an offer of admission, but I catch the word
waitlist
. This can’t be. I hit the power button on my laptop, thinking maybe I just imagined all of this, but when I take steps toward my bedroom door to go to the kitchen, I end up on the floor, sobbing.

Tuesday

I manage to get out of bed and shower. The reflection in the mirror gawps at me.
You failed,
it says, without moving her lips. I can’t argue. I put another pair of pajamas on, and go back to sleep.

Wednesday

The same routine. Sometimes I lie there with my eyes open, unblinking, unmoving, and unaware that life is continuing onward. The phone rings off the hook, but I don’t want to answer it. I text my parents and tell them the news because I can’t bring myself to speak to them on the phone. I reply to James’ worried message with two words: I’m fine. Sophia knocks throughout the day and even calls me from the next room, but I have nothing to say.

Thursday

It had to be my resume. It was too formulaic. I should have continued working at the lab. I should have continued with THON. That physics test I got a B on changed everything. My interview answers were weak. I should have done more activities.

Friday

This feels like the end of the road. Every dream I’ve had about my life has always resided on this crucial step. Medical school was required to become a chief resident. Passing boards and excelling were needed to open a practice. My reputation, built brick by brick and patient by patient, would be of a renowned health educator and practitioner. My dreams were built in the sky, and earth isn’t going to measure up now. I never thought about anything else. I don’t even know where to start in order to move forward. For someone who has always been so prepared, I am completely at a loss–I never planned on needing backups. It’s why I worked so hard to begin with.

Choosing not to pursue other interests always made me feel focused. If I wanted to pursue medicine, I should only pursue medically related activities and interests. The logic seemed sound at the time. To concentrate my hopes on one thing was supposed to make me look better to the admissions committees. Now, the entire plan has been proven unfounded. Because I focused only on one thing, I have no other ideas about where to go or what to do. I want to break the
Failure isn’t an option
coffee mug on my desk. Failure is the only thing I’ve managed.

When something you’ve hoped for with every breath falls through, you begin to point out everything you may have done wrong to deserve this kind of karma. Did dating James throw off the universe so much that I got what I wanted taken away from me, because I may be taking what my parents want from them? It’s ridiculous, but it’s hard not to grasp at straws. What else is left?

I went to the temple every Friday growing up, I didn’t drink, I never did drugs, I always listened to my parents and for the most part, treated them with respect. I’ve always been kind to others. I can list all my good qualities until the cows come home, but in the grand scheme of it, where did it lead?

The window overlooking College Avenue has become my home base for the week since eating and going out became so unappealing. Sophia tells me she’ll call James, but I muster up a ‘no’ resounding enough for her to step back and say she understands. I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. It doesn’t stop him from texting every day.

Nithya, talk to me. Don’t shut me out.

I am here if you want to talk. If you don’t, I’ll come armed with junk food. This is something we can fix together.

Baby, I just want to help.

They all go ignored.

A knock on the door midafternoon irritates me. Sophia has likely gone against my wishes and invited James. Before I manage to shuffle to the door, the knock sounds again.

“Nithyamma?” My father’s voice echoes down the outside hall. I must be delirious. The door creaks open, his eyes widen, and the pity crashes across his face. Not condescension, but heartbreak. Sophia stands in her doorway and also appraises my appearance. I suppose not eating for three days can make someone look a little zombie-like.

“Hello,” I croak out before giving him a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Amma called Sophia to check on you when you didn’t answer your phone. We got worried.” He brushes the hair out of my face and kisses the top of my head.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, using the same monotone I’ve heard in my head when I typed those words to people who have asked. James, all three times a day. Luca, when he offers a hug. Sophia, every single time she’s come over to check on how I’m doing.

“You are not. Have you eaten?” He squeezes my shoulder to check if my muscle is still there.

Now it dawns on me why Amma has asked me all those times whether I’ve eaten. It’s like a thermometer, gauging whether I’m happy or not. I shake my head.

“First things first,” he says, “let’s go get something to eat.”

“Okay.”

“One more thing, Nithya…” He waits until I meet his eye, before hopefully asking, “Can you take a shower?”

anna,” he snaps me out of it as I gaze out at the mountains. The arboretum is uncharacteristically quiet today.

“Hmm?”

“Talk to me. We are worried about you.”

“I failed.”

“You are graduating. You did not fail. Why do you think this is a failure?”

“Nanna, this is what I wanted my entire life.” I look at him like he has three heads. “I’ve never wanted anything more than this, I did everything for it–”

“Did you do your best?”

“It wasn’t good enough.” My voice cracks.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“I thought I did everything. I gave it my all. The lab research, the Red Cross, THON. I wrote a good essay. I kept my grades up. I did well on the MCAT. I thought I did okay on the interviews in January.”

“Kanna, you still have all those things. You talk about them like they are gone. You can still say you raised a thousand dollars by yourself to go to those orphans in Haiti. Medical schools cannot take that from you. No one can.”

“What’s the point?” I grumble. He watches me patiently as I pick the jalapenos out of the sandwich, though they are usually my favorite.

“Nithyamma, if you did those things only to get into medical schools, I haven’t raised you properly. You should feel wonderful about them. Maybe they weren’t what the medical schools were looking for, but they enriched your life. If you feel even a little bit of satisfaction, then they were not a waste. That is the point. We do things to help others, not ourselves. It is meant to be selfless, not selfish.”

I consider what he has said. The Haitian orphans were left parentless by AIDS. I was preparing for a trip with Habitat for Humanity when I learned about a local orphanage in desperate need of supplies. It didn’t take long to make the money–I was lucky I had so many friends in so many organizations that wanted to help a little bit. Nanna is right that my insides still dance when I think about a quiet boy who barely talked to me when I arrived and cried when I had to leave. He is right that it wasn’t the accomplishment of raising money that makes me happy when the trip comes to mind, it’s all I gained otherwise, the intangibles, that matter. But the accomplishments are what are going to drive me forward in life. The touchy-feelies of a charity trip won’t convince someone to hire me or help me build my future.