RISK✵ lrh

PROLOGUE

Mia Corcoran spent her last four high school years building the perfect resume and the ideal academic record to guarantee future success. She worked hard, fueled by her mother's continuous encouragement and the intense validation of earning a good grade and meeting the standard she had marked in her mind.

Mia didn't know how she did it, but she did.

Four years of service, extracurricular activities, relentless studying, and—what she expected to be—excellent letters of recommendation from her teachers marked her spot at the university of her dreams.

All the merchandise and pamphlets hung on the board in her room are no longer a simple manifestation or goal; they are evidence of a massive milestone in Mia's life, and all the distant uncles, aunts, cousins, and friends her mother called for help, and advice wasn't for nothing.

A massive weight was lifted from her shoulders.

However, the stress and anticipation of waiting for her exam results scratched the back of her mind. Sure, her application was approved – she got an offer, albeit a conditional offer, but still an assurance – and she passed her interview, but if Mia didn't meet the grades, it would crush her and her mother.

Sat on the armrest of a garden sofa, she stared at the blue-lit swimming pool water while nursing another fruity wine cooler, consumed by the nagging thoughts of a possible rejection and catastrophic failure that would determine the entire course of her life and being. There are other universities she applied to, but they're not the same; their logos aren't hanging up on her wall, and she didn't work her ass off for them.

Music played, and her classmates and friends talked to one another – some tended a makeshift bar, some laughed, some were concealed by shrubbery in a far corner with blowing smoke, and a few others were sat near the pool.

"Well, not all of us can be smart like Mia," a voice laughed, and a slight nudge on the girl's thigh brought her out of her daze. She turned her gaze away from the pool and fixed it on her best friend, Thalia. "She applied to almost every university in the top ten and got into them all," Thalia said.

Mia shook her head, bringing her drink to her lips. "No, half of the ivies rejected me, " she corrected. She was trying to be funny, the cocky-self-deprecating humour she earned the right to use.

Thalia rolled her eyes, "Okay, well, name one other person in this grade who's going to Oxford in September." Then, the girl stood before the small group and pointed to her best friend, "Oxford!" She repeated, feeling the need to brag on Mia's behalf, "Not for some summer course! No! Mia Tingai Corcoran is a full-time student at the oldest university in the world."

Thalia began to clap in Mia's honour and the small group of friends they were seated with followed suit. Waving a hand, with a slight blush on her cheeks – from embarrassment, pride, or the drinks she's had that night – Mia ends the quiet applause, "Alright, please stop."

Still, she couldn't hide the smile on her features despite having heard Thalia's continuous attempts of bragging and boasting (on her behalf) since January.

"It's not that big of a deal," Mia said. It was a big deal; it was the biggest deal ever. She worked her ass off the past four years and was close to exhaustion and a mental breakdown during exams. "Jono is going to Caltech, and no one is handing him his flowers," she added, glancing around the backyard for the valedictorian, who she found shotgunning beers. "And Renée is going to Johns Hopkins!"

"Okay, but do you see them here for this conversation?" Thalia questioned, sitting back down and crossing one leg over another. "No," she answered with a shrug, causing Mia to roll her eyes. "But you people make the regular people, like myself, look stupid."