She did that for all the Ivies except Cornell. Cornell needed the new essay.
If admissions officers read every application they received, this couldn’t go wrong: either they’d respect her wishes and reject her, or they’d think she was too weak of character to stand up to her parents … and reject her.
She couldn’t lose.
Erin was banking on the fact that she’d get in somewhere decent where she actually wanted to go.
Please let me get in somewhere decent.
Cornell was Claire’s least favorite Ivy, but if Erin got in there, everyone would win.
And, if it wasn’t an Ivy, so what? Claire didn’t go Ivy for undergrad … and she thought herself perfect.
Erin emailed Claire: “Because I’m a lopsided candidate, I’ve widened my scope of safety schools, just in case.”
Claire would think that was a great idea. She hoped.
Morning dawned and Hamish joined Erin in the kitchen. “Up early, Erin.”
“You too,” she said.
“Right on time for me.”
Erin worked while Hamish started coffee and toast. She’d condensed her entire college search into twelve hours.
Doubting herself, she doubled-back to her long list and Googled madly. One website let her compare up to five colleges on twenty-nine key issues and find colleges most similar to Cornell.
Her cursor hovered over the “international” box. How far from Wheaton was too far?
Hamish slid a cup of coffee toward Erin and offered her toast with jam.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Felicity told me what you’re working on. I’m impressed.”
Erin smiled. “Thank you, Hamish. That means a lot.”
“I know it’s been hard. You think we’re backwards. Or opposites.”
“The Antipodes, they call it,” Erin said.
“Yes.”
“Actually, Hamish, I looked it up, and your exact antipode is in Spain.”
“Never been.”
“Where I lived, in Wheaton? That antipode is in the middle of the ocean, so, I think you got the better deal.”
“Erin. Focus. I know it was piss awful in the beginning, but I think we found our way.”
“I think we did. And now I’m trying to find mine.”
“Best of luck,” he said.
“Hamish, can you recommend any universities in New Zealand?”
“’Fraid I don’t know much. Canterbury’s the only one I’ve visited. I’m off!”
Erin browsed the University of Canterbury’s website. Mere blocks from Ilam High, it was the third best university in New Zealand. And it had an undergraduate program in astronomy.
Holy crap.
Sipping her coffee, Erin studied the application, which was due in twenty-four hours. While completing the form, she contemplated strategies for selling the program to Claire.
And Lalitha. Lalitha would kill her.
But this felt right. Without a tour, without talking to anyone or reading student interviews, she knew she wanted it. Badly.
Erin emailed her Wheaton and Christchurch guidance counselors about forwarding her transcripts to Canterbury, zombied her way through a shower, and hopped onto her bike. At the roundabout, she felt reassured: this was the right thing. Riding her bike woke her right up.
And she was awake.
And she felt good.
SEVENTY-THREE
Erin mentally composed an email to Lalitha all day. Lalitha would be pissed. Claire might be easy by comparison. That afternoon, while she waited for her friends at The Roxx, she texted Claire her Plan B.
Erin: Mom, I had a brilliant plan.
Erin: I’m applying to University of Canterbury in Christchurch.
Claire: No.
Erin: Just hear me out.
Erin: Colleges are going to admit me (or not) based on everything that’s happened already. They’re not taking next semester in Wheaton into account. Spending a semester at the University here can only improve my résumé.
Claire: So you would come back to a real college in September.
Erin let the real college comment pass; she couldn’t afford a fight right now.
Erin: Yes, but it gets better! If I don’t get into a good school in the States, I could apply this May as a transfer candidate. Transfer applicants have a much higher acceptance rate.
Claire: Good point!
Claire: How long ago was the application period?
Erin: Even better news! It ends tomorrow.
Claire: Great. You should’ve done this weeks ago! Get on top of it and let me know how I can push it along.
Erin breathed deeply as Marama pulled into the parking lot. Erin smiled and raised her index finger to indicate she needed a minute.
Erin: Relax, Mom.
Erin: Copied and pasted all my application materials into their application last night.
Erin: Already asked Mrs. Brown to forward my transcript.
Erin: When I get home tonight, I’ll submit it.
Claire: Fine.
Claire: I hope you don’t have to transfer. Med schools might think that looked like … exactly what it is. Like you weren’t good enough to get in on your first try.
Erin: I’m covering all the bases.
Claire: Fine.
Claire: What’s their acceptance rate?
Erin: I’ll do a lot more research and email you tonight. Have to go now. Meeting friends.
Claire: This is important, Erin. FOCUS.
Erin: I am focused.
Claire: There are a million tomorrows for friends. Focus on this until it’s done.
Erin: Right, of course. I will, Mom. Bye.
Erin powered off her phone. “My mother is crazy.”
“Aren’t they all?” Marama said.
“Mine is freaking out because I want to apply to University of Canterbury.”
“You mean ours?”
“Yours. Ours, yes.”
“You see?” Marama said. “This is the problem in our country: people swing through and never want to leave!”
“Sorry,” Erin said.
“It’s okay. I love you. You can stay.” Marama wrapped her arms around her friend.
Erin squeezed her. “I hope so.”
They changed in the bathroom and buckled their harnesses. Hank and Gloria arrived as they were roping in.
“Guess who wants to be kiwi?” Marama said.
“Whazzat?” Hank said.
“She’s going for Uni. Submitting her application tonight.”
Erin hadn’t expected Hank to flinch.
“Climbing,” Marama said.
Erin’s voice was quiet. “Climb on.”
Hank stared at Erin as Marama scrambled up the wall. Belaying Marama was the perfect excuse to not look him in the eye.
“Hello?” Hank said.
“Hi,”
