Page 69 of The Serpent King

Hello and greetings from NYU Undergraduate Admissions.

First and foremost—congratulations on your acceptance to NYU. We are thrilled to congratulate you on this achievement!

She stopped reading and screamed. And jumped. And jumped and screamed. Her mom rushed out to see what was wrong. Lydia showed her the letter. They jumped and screamed together. Her dad rushed around from the backyard, where he was stacking his new firewood. They all jumped and screamed together.

“Everything look okay, Mr. McGowan? I unloaded that pallet of pasta and got it on the shelves and I mopped produce.”

Mr. McGowan ran down his clipboard with his pen, mumbling to himself. “Looks good to me, Dill. You got done early, but I’ll clock you out normal. Great work.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow night.”

“Hey, real quick, Dill. You still available full time come the end of school?”

“Yessir. As many hours as I can get.”

“Great. I’ll tell the big boss. He’ll be glad to hear it.”

Dill took off his green work apron, put on his coat, and walked outside. Not a bad night to walk home. It was one of those February nights with the smallest breath of warmth beneath the cold.

“Want a ride home, mister?” Lydia sat on the bumper of her Prius. Her voice startled him. Not only because he wasn’t expecting to hear it, but because (and he could have been completely wrong about this) it had a flirtatious quality that had appeared with greater frequency after the talent competition. Dill attributed this to her being impressed with his bravery. Anything more would have been too much to hope for.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had blog stuff.”

“Not tonight. That’s actually why I’m here. Can we talk?” She must have noted the look of anxiety that passed over Dill’s face. “It’s good news. Kinda.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Cool. Hop in. We’re heading to Good News Coffee. I thought the name was appropriate. I’m buying.”

They were mostly quiet on the drive.

“Can you give me a hint?” Dill asked.

“Let me have my big announcement.”

“You got into college somewhere. NYU?”

“Please let me have my announcement.”

They got to Good News, ordered their Christian-themed beverages, and sat.

“Okay,” Dill said. “Let’s have it.”

“I got my acceptance letter from NYU today.”

A sharp pain in his chest. A quick electric shock to his heart. The jolt spread lower and lower, into his stomach, like droplets of blood diffusing into water.

It’s like when his name was called at the talent competition, the way his mind freezes and goes somewhere else. He’s at some college campus. Maybe NYU. He can’t say because he doesn’t know what NYU looks like. And Lydia is sitting on a bench with some guy. He’s handsome and well dressed (probably by her), with an insouciant, shaggy casualness that bespeaks money. They’re talking and laughing. Autumn leaves fall around them.

And Lydia is sitting at a coffee shop with the guy. There are books stacked high around them—the way opportunity and possibility are stacked around them.

And then the guy is sitting in a car with Dr. Blankenship, and they’re talking and laughing. And he’s sitting at the Blankenships’ table beside Lydia, across from Dr. and Mrs. Blankenship.

And Dill is wearing his green Floyd’s apron. He’s outside in the cold, watching them through the window. He can see his reflection in the glass, and he looks exhausted and used up. And it makes perfect but agonizing sense why the guy is sitting with Lydia and he’s not.

Dill did his best to smile. “Congratulations,” he said softly. “I—I knew you would get in. I never doubted it.” If only I could have doubted it. If only I could have pretended even for a second.

“Thanks. For believing in me and being my friend.”