|| Highest Rank #21 in Humor ||
Aubrey Powers is a certified pink-a-holic.
Her hair is pink. Her nails are pink. She doesn't wear anything but the color pink and her personality is pink. She's bubbly, outgoing, and just a little bit crazy.
Most pe...
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45 || The terrible terrible no good very bad day
It's funny how a great day can go to complete and utter shit.
It all started with the envelopes.
We were all gathered outside at our table in a solemn circle. Senior year was drawing to a close.
Letters had started arriving.
"You open yours first," Nikole said nervously.
"Don't be a wuss," Trevor countered. "Since you're so fearless you open yours."
"No you."
"No you."
"I'll go first!" Ivy finally yells. We all turn to her.
"We truly admire your bravery," Ryan says. Carter rolls his eyes.
Ivy took out a letter opening and carefully sliced hers open. Then she slowly unfolded the letter inside. We all waited with bated breath as her eyes skimmed over its contents.
"Guys," she looks up at us with tears in her eyes.
"Oh no come here," Chanel is immediately up to engulf her in a hug but Ivy stops her.
"I GOT ACCEPTED!"
We all screamed, well minus the guys and jumped up hugging her.
Ivy's dream school was University of California Berkeley so she could major in business and eventually become an event planner.
"Whew that was a close one," Trevor wipes his brow. "I'll go next."
"We all know you got accepted," Chanel stands behind him and wraps her arms around his neck.
"Thanks for the confidence babe," he turns to give her a quick peck before tearing open his envelope. Ivy gasps.
"You could've borrowed my letter opener!"
"I don't care about the envelope. I care about what's inside," he replies while pulling out his letter. He reads it quickly before grinning.
"Open yours Ryan," he says and Ryan quickly tears his open. Next to me I see Ivy flinch.
"Hell yeah, UC Santa Cruz here we come!" Both boys high five.
"My turn," I chirp and grab my envelope. Ivy hands me her letter opener and I slit it open.
My hands are shaking and my stomach is rolling as I hold the letter and read it.
"You're taking too long!" Nikole snatches it from my hand. "You were accepted!"
"What!" I screech. "No way! Let me see!" I snatch my paper back. UCLA only accepts about eighteen percent of its freshman applicants. There's no way I got in.
