Stanford's rejection shouldn't be so surprising

March 18, 2013

I’m bringing up a webpage on Hedge’s computer and he’s sitting on the other side of his desk, talking to a group of students. I find the site just as he finishes his conversation and turns to me.

“How are you doing, superstar?”

I winkle my nose and keep my eyes on the computer screen. “I’m hanging in there.”

“Less than two months left.” He is trying to be encouraging. God, he has no idea, for once.

I’m silent, swallowing my tears before I turn to face him. He looks so expectant, so hopeful, just like me last Friday night before four little emails changed my whole plan.

“Stanford rejected me.” It’s all I can manage.

That hopeful little smile is wiped, obliterated from his face. “No…” I can’t differ between disbelief or denial in his voice.

“And Yale and Princeton and Columbia.”

“…Jess..” For once he is at a loss for words.

Another group of students comes over to demand his attention, giving me the chance to finish what I was doing on the computer and half-way compose myself. He turns back to me as soon as he’s free.

“The admission process is dumb. Kids who don’t deserve to get in, do. And truly gifted kids who deserve to get in to all the best schools with full scholarships, don’t. It’s not fair and it doesn’t make sense.”

I nod dumbly. This does not make anything better and we both know it. He hesitates as a heavy silence settles between us.

“There was nothing more you could’ve done.”

I tear up again. I thought I'd silenced all those tears with silver this weekend. Apparently not. I tug my sleeve more securely down my arm.
        Hedge notices this tiny action and his forehead wrinkles.

“So UCSD?” Always trying to help me move on.

“Do you have an extra 27,000 dollars laying around?” I come off harsher than I mean to but he doesn’t flinch.

“I think,” he begins, his voice quiet, “that you will be happier there than BYU. We’ll find a way to make it happen.”