Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind - Treebros

Chapter 29: "Tied Together"

Saturday, March 23rd

Endless energy bubbles inside of me, and I feel like a spring that's being coiled tighter and tighter and every time I think that I'm going to finally burst, it just keeps getting more and more tense.

"Honey, are you okay?" Mom asks from my doorway, startling me.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine. Why would you ask that?" I stutter, almost tripping over my feet as I pace the length of my bedroom. She watches me, eyebrows raised.

"I can't imagine why. Is this about the acceptance letters?" she asks. I want to snap at her. Obviously it's about the fucking acceptance letters. What else could it possibly be? But, to be fair to her, there are tons of things I get stressed about.

"Yes. Kind of. Yes. No. Yes."

"Have you gotten any yet?"

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, checking my phone again as I wear circles into my rug. It's not my acceptance letters that I'm waiting for. Well, not only mine.

"Really? From where?" Mom asks, excited.

"NYU said no." I was disappointed, yes, but NYU isn't the college I've pinned everything on.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. That's just one college, don't work yourself into a panic over that." She instantly goes into Mom-Mode, talking to me like I'm a stray cat or someone about to jump off the ledge. I really wasn't working myself into a panic over that, but thanks for being way too overly-cautious as always, Mom.

"I got one from Rochester. Like a day ago," I say, just to get her to stop talking.

"What did they say?"

"I don't know. I haven't checked it yet," I answer, sending her a glance as I reach the end of my bedroom and start all over again. Pacing really is tiring.

"What?! Why not?" she asks, incredulous.

"Connor hasn't gotten his yet. We promised we would open them at the same time and then go get ice cream when I got rejected," I scoff. Rochester University isn't exactly the most prestigious college, but it's graduation rate is higher than it's acceptance rate and that's good enough for me. Besides, Connor might be there too.

"You're not going to get rejected," Mom sighs, stepping forward like she wants to reassure me but I don't stop moving.

"Okay, but I have the scholarship and the actual application, so that's like twice the chance of me getting rejected," I complain. Even if I get accepted into Rochester, I'll be drowning in student loans. And if I can't get a job, it'll be so much worse and then I'll be homeless on the streets and die of exposure at the ripe old age of 24.

"It'll be okay. You applied to eight different colleges. You have a good chance of getting into one. And if you don't, then that's their loss."

"It's actually my loss, because they don't care at all if I don't get in but I very much do," I groan. It's not like I'm some huge asset to the scientific community that Rochester is begging to have. I'm just a high schooler who likes trees.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Mom says quietly. As bad as I feel about it, I'm glad she's gone. Sometimes she makes me feel stifled.