25 ¦ Rejection

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After our little group hug, Mom took a pile of letters out of the drawer. She didn't have to tell me what they were. I hardly ever got snail mail, and they were giant envelopes.

My heart thudded against my ribs.

"Are those--?" I asked, speechless.

"I think so," Mom said, her eyes twinkling.

Mom and Grandad watched as I snatched and ripped open the thick envelope from Boston College. Scanning the document, my eyes landed on the word I wanted to see.

"Yes! They accepted me! Oh, my gosh!" I squealed.

"Wonderful!" Grandad exclaimed.

"I knew you'd make it, dear!"

I scanned the document until I came to the important part. My shoulders sank. "Oh, no!"

"What is it?" Mom asked, her brow furrowed.

"Only a half scholarship because I'm not the valedictorian," I said, pursing my lips. "Shit!"

I slammed the acceptance letter on the desk in frustration. Mom gave me a look of concern and pursed her lips. She didn't even bother to correct my language.

Hell, she was probably thinking the same thing.

A half-scholarship still meant I had to find over twenty-five thousand dollars per year to attend. That was never going to happen, not even with a part-time job and commuting from home.

It might as well have been a rejection. No, it was worse. Knowing I could go to an amazing school like that but being hampered by money set my teeth on edge.

"What about ROTC?" Grandad asked me. "Can't you go for free if you join that program?"

"My granddaughter is not going to join the army," Mom said.

It was so rare to hear her raise her voice that we both balked at her.

"If Jess studies languages and graduates in good standing, she would serve as a lieutenant," Grandad argued. "She'd be a non-combatant. Anyway, we've lived in relative peace for decades."

"She is NOT going to join Army ROTC! And that's final," Mom shouted. "I won't see my baby carted off to war."

"This is 1999, not 1940, Carm."

"Think of Iraq," she insisted. "What if that blows up?"

"That region has been a basket case for a decade," Grandad said with a sigh. "But we won the Gulf War. It's over. She wouldn't have to fight."

"Jess would have to serve for four years after graduation. Until 2007!"

Don't I have a say in this? For God's sake, I'm an adult now!

"One of those other colleges must have accepted her with a good aid package," Grandad muttered. "She has a three-point-eight GPA, for crying out loud."

Damn you, Math. If it weren't for you, I'd have a perfect four-point-oh.

"Three-point-eight-seven-eight," I replied as I grabbed another envelope. "Let's see if it's enough."

Assumption College. Come on, baby. Don't let me down.

"Accepted!" I said with a sigh of relief. Now for the tricky part. "Okay, okay, this is better. Lots of scholarships. Merit-based and aid-based. Okay... Oh, GOD!"

"What? What is it?" Mom asked as she looked over my shoulder.

"Five thousand," I said, slamming the letter on the table. "Five thousand a year I'd have to find. Where do they expect me to get this? Out of my backside?"

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