Still, I wish I was able to travel around the world with Dalton. Try different foods and lie on the beach together. But I just count down the days until he returns. At least we have all of senior year to make up for it.
School starts up in early September. I know my way around the halls and find my classes quickly. Dalton and I don’t have any together this time, which really sucks. I text him to meet after school, but he has to go straight to practice. The crewteam has a big race this week. I wake up early to go watch and cheer him on. A lot of people from school are there, so we don’t end up talking too much.
“We should celebrate later!” I say.
“For sure. I’ll see you at school.”
I text him again after class but he doesn’t respond. And I don’t see him for the rest of the week. A part of me thinks he’s avoiding me, until he shows up at the café on Saturday and asks me to dinner afterward. Then I come over and we watch a movie in his room. Of course, neither of us is really paying attention to what’s playing. I feel his lips on mine and know everything’s back to normal.
Then the school week starts again. I ask if he wants to study together, but Dalton’s busy with rowing and classes. We don’t see each other for the next few weeks. I try not to take it personally, though. Even though he’s barely responded to any of my text messages.
One day I overhear some of his friends at lunch. They are all talking about how they were at Dalton’s house the day before. Apparently, the crew team hosts a social every Wednesday, and all seniors are welcome. But Dalton has never mentioned it to me.
A week later, as I’m scrolling social media, I see a photo he’s tagged in. Dalton took a day trip into New York City with a group from school. They had lunch at a place called Zou Zou’s and saw a Broadway show afterward. I can’t help feeling left out. He never invites me when he’s with his friends. I go through some of their profiles. They all travel around the world, eating at fancy restaurants, wearing the same type of clothes as Dalton. There’s a guy named David who even has his own plane.
Maybe that’s why Dalton hasn’t been including me. Because I can’t afford to hang out with them anyway. Ormaybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with the “poor” kid. But how could anyone tell if we’re wearing a uniform? That’s when I begin noticing the other guys at school. They seem to be wearing the same white sneakers. After some research, I learn they’re from brands like Common Projects and Maison Margiela. There doesn’t appear to be anything special about them, but somehow they cost around four to seven hundred dollars online.
Maybe if I dress like them, Dalton would invite me to hang out more. And we wouldn’t have to see each other in secret anymore. I use the money I’ve been saving to buy the sneakers. I’ll just work extra shifts and hold off on getting a new phone. A part of me regrets the purchase the day after. But Julius compliments them during Physics.
“Love the new Achilles.”
I smile. “Oh, thanks.”
I guess people really do notice. Even Dalton glances at them when I see him in the hallway. I wonder what other invisible markers there are. I ask him what he’s doing over Christmas break. He’ll be spending it at home this year. Apparently, Early Decision letters should be sent any week now. This allows students to get early acceptances to their first-choice college, which is binding. Of course, Dalton is waiting to hear from Princeton.
Turns out many students here applied early. Top places like Williams, Yale, and UChicago. I don’t like the idea of being tied to a decision. I mean, who knows how I’ll feel in seven months? So I sit back while they talk about their acceptances during class.
Dalton receives his letter a few days before break. To my shock, he is put on the waitlist. He came all the way to the café to tell me in person.
“The waitlist?”
“Keep your voice down,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “Nobody else knows yet. So don’t mention it at school, okay?”
“Of course I won’t.”
I remind him that it isn’t a rejection. He’ll just have to wait until the spring like everyone else. But it doesn’t make him feel any better. Dalton goes behind the counter and lies down on the storage boxes. He’s too embarrassed to talk to his other friends. They would question why he didn’t get in, given that both his parents went to Princeton and donate regularly. So he avoids them the rest of the week and hangs with me instead. He knows I would never judge him for that. Neither of my parents even finished high school. We spend all of winter break together. I even have dinner with his parents for the first time. I know he’s going through it right now. But it’s nice being the only one he can confide in.
School starts back up again. Dalton and I continue hanging out regularly. We have lunch together and text between classes. Maybe the shoes are working because he finally invites me out with his friends. One of them has a house that’s bigger than Dalton’s. There’s an indoor basketball court next to a movie theater with a real popcorn machine. A few of them ask about my parents. I tell them Mom died two years ago and Dad works as a mechanic in California. I leave out the fact that I haven’t seen him in a few years. I’m expecting some comments about how I grew up. But no one laughs under their breath or makes a single joke about it. We put a movie on in the background and chat about other people at school. They invite me to one of their houses upstate next weekend.
I wish we all had gotten to know each other sooner. Maybe I was the one who judged them too quickly.
I receive my acceptance letter to Princeton in March. At first, I think I misread it. Then I run into the kitchen and show Aunt Hi?n right away. She wraps her arms around me and cries tears of joy. “Your mom would be so proud of you,” she says. I remember the promise I’d made to her before she died. I worked so hard these past two years. Just like she had done all her life. But it still seems so surreal. Someone like me could get into Princeton. The number one school in the country. They even offer a financial package that would cover most of it.
Aunt Hi?n has me light some incense in the living room. It’s a tradition in Vietnamese culture to carry prayers to the afterlife. I place it beside Mom’s photo and close my eyes. “I wish you were still here with us. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. Thank you for watching over me.”
I read over the letter again. Then I grab my phone and text Dalton the news. He’s already received multiple acceptances, including to places like Duke and Columbia. So the two of us finally have something to celebrate.
Dalton texts me back right away.
Dalton:You got it today?
Me:Yeah I’m still in shock
Dalton:What time? Was it over email?
He asks me to send it to him. But he doesn’t congratulate me. I wonder if it’s because he’s still on the waitlist. Maybe I should have waited to tell him. But we’ve shared all our acceptances so far. I’d heard back from Rutgers and Stony Brook University a few weeks ago. Even with my grades, Princeton was still areach. There’s no way I could have kept it a secret!
Unfortunately, it must really bother Dalton. Because things aren’t the same afterward. We stop hanging out, and he becomes slow to respond again.
