Valhalla High (A Magnus Chase Fanfic)

Franatic Application for Student Aid

October 1

My mother woke me at the crack of dawn to do my FASFA. I yawned and looked at my phone. "Mom, it's like 6:32!" I exclaimed. "And it a weekend."

    I had come home past midnight last night and I had been looking forward to sleeping in today. "Come on," my mother said. "You can go back to sleep once we're finished. I want to get it done before so many people log on that the website crashes. Good thing we're in the eastern time zone."

     I sighed and got up. We went downstairs and my mother got out her laptop. "Could you make some coffee and breakfast while I fill this out?" she asked.

    I nodded and poured some coffee grounds into our French press. It was cheap and it made the best coffee I'd ever tasted. My mother liked to get single origin and other fancy types of coffee. "I cannot get huge luxuries," she often said, "so we enjoy small ones."

    Honestly, I'd take good coffee over a private jet or my uncle's creepy mansion any day. While the coffee was brewing, I made scrambled eggs and popped some bread in the toaster. I got out two plates, slathered the pieces of toast with my mother's favorite fruit preserves and set the plates down beside my mother. She looked up and gave me a smile.

    I returned a minute later with our mugs of coffee. She took a sip. "Perfect," she said.

     My mother liked her coffee black, while I always put creamer and sugar in mine. The coffee started to wake me up as I watched my mother. She asked me questions from time to time, but was able to do most of the things by herself. The FASFA took a really long time because my mother had to upload all of her tax information. Luckily, she didn't have to include my father's because he might be dirtbag rich, but he was never married to her, so she only had to include the small amount he paid in child support.

    The website crashed a couple times and some of the questions were confusing. I wished I could help my mother, but she knew more about this than I did. When she finally submitted the FASFA, my mother laid back and sighed. "We don't have to do this again until next year," age said with a smile.

   I looked at my phone. It was 7:48. Time to go back to sleep.

***

   I slept till past noon. When I finally woke up, I found my mother resting a bird watcher's guide on the couch. She smiled as she saw me come into the room. "Do you want to go hiking tomorrow?" she asked.

    "Sure," I said.

     "You can bring a friend," she added.

       Both of us smiled at the word. Just last year I had been lucky to get through a day with one or two nasty comments or encounters. Now,  had people I could call my friends and that was magical indeed.

***
October 2

"Wow," TJ said as my mother parked. "This place is gorgeous."

We were at a state park not too far away from Boston. My mother checked her backpack. "Trail mix, sandwiches for lunch, water bottles, compass, looks like we're good," she said.

We got out of the car and my mother insisted we put on sunscreen. TJ looked at it nervously. "My mom made me wear this when I was younger and it made my skin look bad."

"My mom buys magic sunscreen," I said, squeezing some out of the bottle and spreading it over my face to prove it.

TJ nodded and tried some. "Wow, this is actually clear."

My mother laughed. "Park rangers know the best sunscreens."

She set off walking. TJ and I took up the rear. It was a five mile loop trail through a forest. The slope was constantly changing, so we'd be breathing hard as we walked uphill and slowing down as we picked our way downhill. The trail was marked by arrows and green paint on trees. While we walked, TJ and I talked. "Did you fill out your FASFA?" he asked me.

I nodded. "My mother did most of it."

"Thank the gods for mothers," TJ said.

I smiled. "I think I can say amen to that."

He laughed. "My mother said I'll probably qualify for a Pell Grant."

"Mother, do you think I will?" I asked.

She stopped walking and looked back at us. "We won't know until they've processed it, but I believe you'll be eligible for some needs-based scholarships."

"Good, college is expensive," I said.

"Tell me about it," TJ said. "I want to become a history professor. What about you?"

"I want to be a nurse," I said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Those 12-hour shifts are killer."

I raised my eyebrows in return. "Not all of us can write dissertations on the importance of telegrams during the Civil War."

He shrugged. "Fair point, but really, you should come to a History club meeting sometime. We're doing a Civil War re-enactment soon and we're always short on Union soldiers."

"Why?" I asked.

"People always want to be Confederates," he answered.

I shook my head, baffled at how the losing side of the war had seemed to win the cultural war in its aftermath. "They do realize they're fighting for slavery?" I asked. "Right?"

TJ sighed. "There's this guy who is always st the re-enactments. His name is Jeffrey Toussaint and he doesn't go to our school, but I have to put up with him every time. He's the kind of person who has the Confederate flag raised outside his house and boats of how his great-grandfathers fought for the Confederacy. I hate him."

I nodded. "He sounds very easy to hate."

"So, maybe you could come to the next re-enactment?" TJ asked. "There is one next Saturday."

"I dunno," I said. "Fighting isn't really my thing."

"You don't have to fight," TJ promised. "You could be a medic or something and I'd really appreciate it."

His eyes were earnest and I found myself nodding. "Then, we'll kick some Confederate butts!" he said.

I smiled and hoped this Tuna Saint guy wouldn't bother us next week.