Washed Up

Headland

Riley

Headland. Noun. [hed-land]. An area of high elevation more resistant to erosion than surrounding areas and less susceptible to flooding.

I wipe my hands on my black slacks as the admissions counselor speaks, his round glasses perched on the end of his very long witch-like nose. Almost done. Almost done.

"Miss Olson, I believe that between the generosity of your parents," he nods at Mom and Dad, seated behind me with ridiculously wide smiles plastered on their faces. "And your own renewed interest in your education, you are a good candidate for readmittance at Cornell."

Dad even pulled out his Army dress blues for the occasion. "After the stunts you've pulled, we need every vote of sympathy we can get, Riley," Mom told me, referencing Dad's brief bout in Afghanistan. Yes, my family is using my dad's status as an active duty Army colonel to help get me back into college. They know no bounds. At Mr. Ellis's words, Dad's back straightens and he bows his head at the man.

"You have our deepest gratitude, Roger," Dad says. Apparently, when he and Mom went to Cornell back in the olden days, Roger was in the year below them and he acts like my dad is the cat's pajamas, to quote the vernacular.

"Of course," Roger Ellis says, "I'm sure Riley will be a great addition to our school psychology program."

"School psychology," Dad murmurs under his voice, shaking his head as if I'm the biggest disgrace the Olson name has ever seen. Sometimes I really, really wish I had a sibling to take some of the pressure. Of course, with my luck, my fantasy brother or sister would get straight As and go into business and the Army, leaving me as the prodigal child. Maybe I'm better off as is. At least I only have to compete with myself.

"Miss Olson, I understand you've spoken with Dr. Mariani, who will serve as your advisor when you re-enroll in the fall?"

I nod and force myself to speak. "Yeah, I've talked with her a few times. She said that I should be able to finish my degree in a year and a half."

I was so relieved when she told me that. I'm okay with getting the degree I need to go into school psychology, but the prospect of four more years of college made my insides twist into a knot. Luckily, using my previous credits and my semester of study abroad, Dr. Mariani figured out a way for me to finish in only a year and a half. Thank goodness.

"You're very lucky to have reached such an arrangement," Ellis said, tapping his Cornell-emblazoned pen on the mahogany desk. "Especially after dropping out. But I'm sure you'll bring pride to the Olson name."

I puke a little in my mouth as I see Mom and Dad exchange a knowing, amorous look between them. I'm all too aware of their history as Cornell's Cutest Couple of the 90s and Dad's start position on the offensive line of the football team. I'm one hundred percent certain I won't live up to their reputation, and I'm totally fine with that.

"You have, of course, lost your scholarship because of your change in status," Ellis continues. "But I'm sure with your father's eminent career, the tuition will be no problem."

"Oh, she'll have to work!" Dad interrupts in a gruff voice. "We Olsons got to where we are through hard work, and she'll have to learn that lesson. We've been too easy on her over the years."

I think about the eighteen times we moved--soon to be nineteen--and the summer I spent sweating in a pizza shop and sleeping on a bunkbed. Yeah, my life's been real easy. But then an image of Ross comes to my mind unbidden and something pulls inside of me--his dimples, his smile, his voice. I have had it easy compared to Ross. If I have to work in the Cornell dishroom to pay for a year and a half's worth of tuition, I'll do it.