Reclusive- s.r

eighteen (!)

I'm on my lunch break at work when it happens.

My phone chimes with the anticipated email. I've gotten three other ones in the span of the last two weeks, but I've yet to open any of them. I waited until the last one came in so I could open them all at once and rip the bandaid off and finally get this heavy weight off my shoulders.

After weeks of nail-biting, I had finally gotten the first email from grad schools, and I don't know if I got accepted to a single one. For all I know, they all could have rejected me and I would have been living in pure bliss these last two weeks. These four emails determine my entire future, and my relationship with Spencer as well. For all I know, I don't even know if he's committed to a school yet, because we've been walking on egg shells around the topic.

I sigh and click the oldest one at the bottom.

Ms. Auclair, We regret to inform you that we are unable to...

I don't have to read the rest of the email to know what it says. I shake it off and try not to get in my head, this school wasn't even one that I was super interested in going to anyway. I just applied to it in case I needed to, but it seems I won't be going there now, and I'm not exactly upset about it. It is what it is.

The next one is from the school that I would consider my second choice, Georgetown. I take another deep breath, and my finger shakes as the email expands, and I shut my eyes, giving myself a moment to calm down before I finally work up the courage to open it. Opening these emails at work isn't ideal, but I know I won't be able to focus unless I open all four of them right now and finally be done with it.

I click on the email.

Ms. Auclair, We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance for this year's fall term...

I couch a hand to my chest and let out a sigh of relief, letting my eyes read over the entirety of the email to make sure I'm reading it right. I am. I got in. It might not be my first choice, but I'm not exactly mad about it, because it means if nothing else works out, I can still follow through on my plans of being in DC next year.

I open the next two emails in quick succession, finding out that I'd gotten accepted to both of them, including my top choice, which has me standing up and letting out a quiet cheer, jumping up and down, clutching my cellphone to my chest. I'm so happy about my three acceptances that I don't even bother dwelling on the single rejection, because I got accepted into seventy-five percent of the schools I applied to, and that number is more than half, and I'll take it.

The first thing I do is open the phone app and dial Spencer.

"Are you okay?" He asks after the first ring. We rarely talk on the phone, and that's because we're more fond of spending time together in person, even if it takes a little bit more time to arrange it. Talking on the phone with him feels so impersonal, and I like seeing his face when I talk to him. Video chats are a simple solution here, but Spencer's technophobia doesn't allow that, so phone calls are our best bet.

"I'm great," I whisper into the phone, trying not to attract any more attention from my co-workers. "I got in!"

"In where?" He asks dumbly, and when I'm about to answer he speaks again. "Oh my god, Vee. That's great! You got into all of them?"

"All except one," I answer. "But I honestly don't care. I got into my top schools and that's good enough for me."

"I'm so proud of you." His words bring a strange sense of pride, knowing that he's sitting somewhere smiling and proud of me, even if we might not be together next year. "That means we have to celebrate tonight."