Chapter 2: Getting into college

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Attending the Ivy League in a country halfway across the world, for a simple country girl like me with a passion for music? Seems a little far-fetched. That's what I'd thought, as I submitted my application for Yale University.

Mind you, I was doing this as part of a dare from one of my friends. A dare.
'I challenge you, Liv, to submit an application for Yale. Just because,' she'd giggled, during an all-girls movie night we were having after our English finals exam.

'Fine, I'll do it. Just for your entertainment.' I'd replied, before I'd burst into a fit of laughter at the ridiculousness of the idea.

Little did I know, over the next few months I would get a little too attached to my application, and subsequently pour my heart out in one of my personal essays (about music, of course).

Still, you can imagine my disbelief and slight horror upon seeing the bulldog video with 'CONGRATULATIONS' spelled across the screen on decision release day. It spelled out my success in an endeavour that began as a joke; and now I couldn't believe that I had been accepted into the one and only Ivy League I'd applied for, which was one of the most prestigious universities in the world!

That shock took a few weeks to set in. My friends and I had bawled our eyes out in laughter and tears, speculating about all the cute nerds I'd meet on campus and the life I'd live in 'the land of the free'.

And my family. They couldn't be happier and prouder of me.

'Liv, just remember that we'll always love you and we'll support you in whatever decisions you make. You'll do great things', dad had managed to choke out while suppressing his emotions, and mum had just nodded, beaming, with a river of tears flowing down her cheeks.

I? I was terrified. I went from a country girl with her whole life planned out before her eyes, to this supposed 'scholar' who was supposed to survive in another country by herself, where she didn't know what each new day had to bring.

Many times I was this close to backing out of the idea, emailing the Yale admissions team and rejecting their offer. But I couldn't. Not with the eyes of everyone on me, not with the expectations from my parents and the continual support from my friends. I couldn't live a simple life, knowing there was so much potential and opportunities for me to pursue elsewhere.

Oh. And then there's my relationship with that 'guy'. We can't forget about him, can we?

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