Belief

5.5

Maddie's POV

I clutched the sides of my book bag, sitting down in the wooden chair across from my guidance counselor's desk, hoping to get out of here quickly. She hobbles in after me, pushing up her glasses, and tucking a piece of greyed hair behind her ear, sitting down in her little swivel chair across from me.

"Madeline, good to see you sweetie," Her red lips smile at me, pushing a bowl of hard candies across the desk to me. I smile, shaking my head at her offer. "How is my top student these days? I hardly ever see you."

"I'm fine," I give her a stiff smile, shifting my weight in my seat nervously. "Just working hard."

"I can see that, you have moved up to number two in the class," she looks at me above her glasses with a grin. "You finally surpassed Mr. Jonah Reilly."

"I did?" I gape at her. Last time I checked I wasn't even in the top ten. Throwback to when my mother pestered me about my grades every day when I walked through the door coming home from school. Now I come home to Luke strumming his guitar on the couch, or Michael asleep in front of the tv with a bag of chips on his stomach. I could have been walking home to an apartment in New York with my dad locked away in his office. I like to think I made the right choice.

"Yes, so your mother can finally stop torturing your poor soul about your grades," she chuckles. If only she knew.

My eyes widen, I bite the inside of my cheek, squirming in my chair. "Yeah, I will tell her when I get home," a forced laugh escapes me.

"So I suppose you know why I have called you here today," my guidance counselor pulls out a file and plops it in the space between us.

"Um," I look at her confused.

"Dear, it's time to apply to colleges of course," she wiggles a wrinkly finger at me. "As if you didn't know."

"Ha, yeah, of course I know," I lie quickly. Crap crap crap.

"So, where are you thinking? You basically have your pick of the lot. Stanford is the one you have been talking about, right?" She starts scribbling on her papers.

"Well, actually," I clear my throat, "I was thinking about just applying to community college."

She stops writing, sitting up and chuckling, "Surely you are kidding, you are the brightest student in your grade. Colleges will be begging for you."

"Unless begging for me includes a free tuition, the only college I will be going to is one I can pay for making minimum wage."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, your parents are very successful people?" Mrs. Overman frowns at me.

"I just- I can't," I bite the inside of my cheek, avoiding her gaze.

"You have achieved far more than enough to go to your dream school. Do your parents want you to go somewhere else?" She looks to me for an explanation, clearly lost.

"My parents aren't involving themselves in my future," I try to explain without telling her I haven't seen my parents in months. "I am on my own for this."

"Oh," Mrs. Overman pushes up her glasses. "Well we can apply for many scholarships dear."

"You don't understand, I am completely on my own," My teeth clench onto the inside of my cheek trying to hold it together, trying to focus on a hopeful future when the truth is I have none.

She stays silent for a moment, studying my face carefully. "Is there anything that the school needs to be aware of Mrs. Morrison?"

"I don't know what you mean," I frown, fiddling with my fingers nervously.