Ashes to Ashes

THE FIRST DAY BACK AFTER SPRING BREAK, I GO looking for Lil as soon as I get to school. I can’t wait to show her how sick my tan lines are. But before I find her, Ms. Chirazo stops me in the hallway and says, “We have a situation.”

“Huh?”

She takes me by the arm. “Come with me.”

I follow her quickly to her office with a terrible feeling in my stomach. “Is this about Oberlin?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is,” she says, closing the door behind me. “Have you heard anything from admissions?”

“No.” It was such a bummer. Alex docked the boat, and I just had this feeling that I’d come home to news. But there was no letter, no e-mail. “I mean, I haven’t checked e-mail yet today, but—”

“Here. Use my computer.”

I sit down and check, and there’s nothing.

She bites on the arm of her glasses. “That’s good. That means they haven’t rejected you yet.”

“Yet?” I run my hands through my hair.

Then Ms. Chirazo has me log in to the Oberlin website and check the status of my application. Incomplete.

“Incomplete? What the f—”

“Katherine,” she warns.

“I don’t get it. I sent in everything they asked for.”

“I checked your files today, just on a whim. And thank goodness I did. We never did get a hard copy of your recommendation letter. And I just had this feeling.”

“I don’t get it. Danner said she’d send it in after the benefit.”

“Did anything happen that would make her rethink giving you a recommendation?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” she asks again, all distrusting.

“I swear, I’ve been a freaking saint. A perfect volunteer.”

Ms. Chirazo leans back in her creaky chair. “Between this and the smoking, it’s almost like you’re trying to sabotage your chances at Oberlin.”

I shake my head emphatically. “No! I want off this island more than you know.” Except, when I say the words, I know that’s not true. I mean, I’m going to college, obviously. But after spring break, I don’t know. I was actually excited to see Jar Island again, to be home with Pat and Dad, to come to school today.

It’s crazy.

“Well, you’re almost out of time, Kat.” She points at the calendar. “That letter needs to be postmarked today if you want it included in your application. They make all their final decisions by April fifteenth.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m on it.”