East Chapel Academy

Nia

Damn.

    This place is fucking huge.

    "It's like a castle," Tasha said, looking at the sprawling campus.

    "More like a plantation," Maya mumbled as she looked out the driver side window.

     Tasha slapped her on the shoulder. "Don't say that,"

     "It's like an all-white party in here," Maya observed, looking at a group of students that sat on the front lawn. "Emphasis on white."

    She turned to face me, her nose scrunched up. "Didn't they get the memo that integration happened in nineteen-fifty-four. And sure it wasn't complete until the late seventies, but I'm sure there's plenty of rich black kids in this area."

    "Calm down, Maya. I'm sure there are some black students that go here," Tasha replied. "Nia, shouldn't you be leaving?"

    "I don't think I can do this," I admitted, holding my hand over my stomach. I suddenly had a stomach ache. "We should turn back around."

    Maya protested, "Oh, no, we're not! You're going into that school."

    I shook my head furiously. "No, no, I'm not. I can't do it."

    "Yes, you can," Tasha encouraged me from the backseat. "You're going to do great."

    "Nia, how much does this place cost again?" Maya asked.

    "Fifty thousand a year." I'd committed most of the brochure to memory.

East Chapel Academy was founded by Richard and Martha Chapel in 1861. East Chapel is one of the most prestigious private schools on the east coast. One of the first educational institutions to accept both boys and girls, it has produced many of America's most famous politicians, CEOs, actors and actresses. They only accept the best and brightest. And I'm here, so I guess that makes me one of the best and brightest.

I would feel better in saying that if I had actually applied.

    My acceptance into East Chapel was shocking, and that's putting it lightly. One day I was in first period with Tasha and Maya, and next thing I know I'm in my guidance counselor's office with an acceptance letter in my lap.

    I should have known something was up—Mrs. Jenkin's wouldn't stop smiling.

After sitting in one of her rickety old chairs, she pushed a thick envelope towards me.

    "What is this?"  East Chapel Academy was printed on the top left corner in gold letters. East Chapel Academy—why are they sending me mail?

    "Open it," she encouraged, a permanent smear of red lipstick stuck on her front tooth.

    Breaking the dark green wax seal, I poured its contents into my lap. A pamphlet with a smiling blonde girl in a school uniform stared back at me. Under the pamphlet was a letter.

    Dear Ms. Owens,

    We are excited to inform you of your acceptance into East Chapel Academy. Due to your high-test scores and exceptional work in your community, we believe you will be a great fit at East Chapel, where we are committed to helping you reach educational and personal success. We hope that you will join us this semester.

    Sincerely,

    Margaret Nelson

Dean of East Chapel Academy

    "But...I didn't apply." Stunned, I read the letter one more time. This can't be for me, they must have the wrong.

     "I guess they saw the article you wrote for the newspaper," said Mrs. Jenkins. "Nia, do you know how amazing this is? They want to offer you a full-ride scholarship!"