Cracks

001 | red letters

R E D

—

Avery Han rolled his head, feeling the worn surface of the knitted blue blanket, before turning to stare at the mobile screen a foot away.

The bright red and gold of the Tulsa crest  centered gaudily on the header in unnecessary opulence.

He reread its contents, making sure he hadn't dreamt it, then stopped to stare at the last two sentences.

"Congratulations, Avery" It read.
"On your acceptance to Tulsa University. We are delighted to have you as an addition to our institution. "

Closing his eyes he leant back down onto the bed, thinking about the root of the problem.  Academic Aptitude Evaluation. Yes, that was how he got in the fucking mess in the first place. Everyone had to take it senior year.

That was protocol.

The whole country has centered itself even further on education in hopes of alleviation. From what exactly? He wasn't sure; the whole thing seemed very vague for what it was. The unemployment rate still wasn't that great, but at least more people had something going for them. And less were homeless.

Anyways,

The test was designed to seek out bright minds to "rebuild the U.S. to its former glory" as stated by President McKinley and yada yada yada — it was practically ingrained from how many times he'd heard it. About forty years ago, they finally figured out how to somewhat accurately test intelligence and aptitude.

The higher the score, the higher your chances were for both university pool match and admission. Every year, students filled out a general application to accompany their score, a requirement to take the AAE which in turn, was a requirement to pass high school. Avery hadn't seriously thought of continuing school. Especially at someplace like Tulsa. Everything he needed was here, his friends, his family.

Maybe he should've screwed with the written part, or randomed the multiple choice, bubbling his name in on the answer sheet or some shit. He felt anxious at the thought of sharing the news with Yu Na, his foster-turned-adoptive mother. She wasn't the biggest fan of the Inquisition, and he had no clue if she'd support him turning this down.

Letting out an involuntary sight, Avery stood up and walked to the door, floorboards creaking as he paused at the tarnished mirror, fixed onto the once-white wall. A boy on the taller end of average, with a fair complexion, and brown eyes stared back at him. His face was framed by a mop of silvery hair, which he heavily blamed for the negative attention he experienced in elementary school. At least as he got older, kids began dyeing their hair and some people started thinking it was a form of personal reinvention. He had often considered dyeing it himself, but the risk and cost of maintaining a hair color made things difficult. It wasn't like he had the time to do that anyway.

Time, was also the root of his admittedly, terrible sleep hygiene. Purple-Blue circles rimmed his eyes from long and late shifts after school. They stopped just before reaching the mole—or beauty mark as Yu Na so fondly referred to it — under his left eye. Avery leant forward, making an almost compulsive check on the placement of his long term contacts.

All brown.

No silver.