Peligroso Amor -Oscar Díaz-

•What Matters To You?•

"Catalina, nice to see you here." My counselor greeted with a smile.

"Hey Mrs. González." I greeted and she pointed it me to the chair.

"Please sit. Tell me Catalina last time we talked you had plans of going to Stanford." She said and I nodded.

"That hasn't changed. I still want to apply there." I said and she turned around and took my folder out. She started looking through the papers and nodded to herself.

"You have amazing grades Catalina." She praised and I smiled. "Have you taken your SAT yet?" She asked and I shook my head.

She took a deep breath and I mentally rolled my eyes. Here it comes. 'Catalina this is very important...'

"Catalina this is a very important step if you want to apply early. When are you planning to take it?" She asked leaning forward on her seat.

"Next week. Yes, I've been studying for them." I replied and she hummed satisfied.

"Have you started your application?" She asked and I shook my head.

"Catalina, you know you don't have to apply early you can wait until January." She said and I nodded.

"I've been waiting and preparing for this for a while now. I can do it." I reassured and she nodded.

"I know you can. I'm just letting you know. What are your plans if you don't get in?" She asked putting my folder away.

"UCLA." I replied grabbing a lollipop from the crystal jar. This woman was going to die of diabetes.

"Oh good!" She exclaimed and I nodded.

"I need a school report, counselor letter, and the official transcripts. Oh and mid-year transcripts. I already asked two teachers for their recommendation letter." I said and she nodded.

"I'll have that for you next week." She said and I stood up.

"Thank you so much miss González." I grabbed my bag and walked out.

**
I've been working on my application essays for two weeks and I still had nothing. I was stuck in that damned question. "What matters to you, and why?"

Dude. I don't know. That's a great question because I don't fucking know what matters to me. There was no way in hell I could write up to 250 words of what matters to me and why.

I've been getting help in my essays from my English teacher and counselor. They would proofread and tell me what and how to improve it in order to stand out.

I was extremely pissed. I slammed the computer shut, then regretted it and slowly opened it to checked if I fucked it up. I released a breath of relief when I saw it didn't caused damage.

I looked at my phone. 2:36 am. Ángel was at Mariana's and my mom was working. I had no one to talk my frustration out.

I took a shower and changed into cotton shorts and one of Oscar's t-shirts. I sighed tying my hair up in a bun. I got lost looking at my reflection in the mirror.