The Bad Boy with a Heart of Gold

✖ Chapter 1 ✖

PART ONE: THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE

This story started when everything crumbled around me.

Mr. Davies, counsellor of Metropolitan High School, called me into his office during homeroom the second week of senior year. Mr. Davies was my favorite teacher through the four years of high school. He was strict but fair, and had understood my papa's ambitions from the first time I walked into his office as a freshman, demanding his best possible guidance to ensure a smooth admission into a business school program with a full scholarship. I needed all the extra help I could get, considering Metro High was not a top tier institution and my parents couldn't really afford putting my sister or I in one. It was a catch-22 with a goal that still had to be met.

So we created a plan. Straight A's were a given, but what would really help me stand out was the extra curricular activities. And boy, did I get involved in many.

During my freshman year I got into the school newspaper, which I'd kept up ever since. I also volunteered for fundraising projects for the school's sports teams. The highlight was last year when, as a junior, I was part of the committee that raised money to send our team to State, but even though I made sure there was a nice article on the paper highlighting my participation, the entire spotlight went to the baseball team's assistant manager, a senior girl whose baseball-craze put her in the real papers and news outlets, courtesy of the efforts of her best friend. The whole thing ensured them super easy admissions to college. I tried not to be bitter about it, because it wasn't like she and I were competing for the same spot. After graduation she and her boyfriend became school legends and I realized I had to step up my efforts to shine as well.

Over the last summer I volunteered at a retirement home and hated every second of it. The residents were such lovely people that it was easy to get attached to them. Mistake. After the second death during my tenure I started brainstorming other ideas that were less emotionally taxing but just as touching.

I came up blank.

As soon as senior year started I ran into Mr. Davies' office with the plight, and he vowed to mull it over. One week later and as I marched through the hallways towards his office, my heart beating at the same rhythm as my feet, I hoped to God that he'd found a killer idea. Pun not intended.

I knocked on his door and entered as he called me in. I sat down across his desk and lowered my tote bag to the floor and waited while he rifled through the contents of a folder labelled AURORA MARIA MARTINEZ FERNANDEZ. My file.

"Rory," he said with a sigh, flipping the pages. "Let me just say that I don't really see what the problem is."

I drew in a sharp breath and reminded myself that nothing would come out of lashing out at my best ally.

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?"

He looked up and pushed his dark rimmed glasses up his nose. "Your grades are flawless, you've been consistent in your extracurriculars and your application is really good. Why do you think you're not ready?"

"Because I'm not."

This was obvious to me, but it seemed like I was going to have to explain myself further.

"Mr. Davies," I started. "Have you seen the admission statistics for the main colleges in the state?" I leaned forward, eyes wide. "UCF, UF, even Rollins are receiving tens of thousands more applicants every year. They're starting to give more weight to out of state applicants because they bring in more money into the state. Scholarships are being reduced. Really good is just not going to cut it anymore."

He cringed, and even though I caught the crazy tone in my voice I didn't hold it back. He needed to understand.

"I need to have a story that makes me stand out." I wrung my hands because admitting this aloud was a huge deal, but here it was. I took a deep breath and said, "I need a story as cool as Peyton O'Hare's or Ellen Young's."