I head for our teapot to make myself a cup of tea. “Oh, actually I asked about that once. I guess her mom, Ellen, wasn’t rich all her life. She went to public school and though Sadie could use a little … grounding.”
“Never has anything truer been said,” Dana says, with a nod.
“Yeah, until she threw a fit and demanded she be transferred, and her parents gave in. At the end of the year she was supposed to come here, but then she overdosed and died. You know the rest of the story.” The rest of that particular story, of course, ends with me impersonating her in order to take her place here at Hawthorne.
It’s insane really.
I’d probably never have found out who I was if Sadie had just gone to private school like she was supposed to. I never would’ve met Eli, Dana, my father, my friends—not even Wills, Blair, or Astor.
Now that is something I don’t want to think about.
“It’s crazy how it all worked out,” Dana says, shaking her head again.
“Yeah well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” I look at her pointedly. “It took some pull to get into those sealed records, if you remember.” It was her father, the judge, who was able to uncover part of my identity.
“I guess you’re right. I’d have missed out on having an amazing best friend, too.” She looks at me fondly. “I guess we’re both lucky, or you and I would not be standing here having this conversation.”
“And I would not be stressing out so much about which university I’m going to be able to go to. With any luck, my uncle can work some kind of a miracle for me.” I hold up my crossed fingers and so does Dana.
Perhaps it’s the crossed fingers that work, or the phone call to my uncle and all the calls he makes on his end; but less than a week later I start getting mail from people I didn’t even realize existed.
Dane advice was simple. After the trauma right before Christmas, all the top schools let Hawthorne know that application deadlines were extended. Nothing was going to change my test scores, but a good letter of recommendation would go a really long way.
Last semester, I had none. Now, thanks to Dane, I have too many.
The letters pour in from the heads of corporations, some of the most famous businesspeople in the country and the world, big name politicians, and even two Hollywood celebrities. I sit down with Dana and we look at all of the letters with wide eyes, gasps, and squeals.
I pick through them one by one. “I don’t even know one of these people.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dana says. “Your uncle really came through!” She gushes, looking for the third time at a letter from one of the Hollywood celebrities. “I can’t believe I’m holding this letter in my hand.”
“I can’t believe that my name is on any of these letters,” I say, still feeling slightly confused but tremendously grateful. I pick up another of the letters and let it fall down to the surface of the desk, still unread. “I didn’t think this was the sort of thing he’d pull off.”
“They know your uncle. That’s the point. Wow. Now your applications will pack more of a punch when you send these in with it.” She beams at me excitedly, feeling just as elated as I do.
“Here’s hoping,” I tell her gratefully. That afternoon I submit to every single school in Manhattan, even the ones that don’t have any majors I’m actually interested in. I just have to get into one.
I’m not so concerned with anything else in my life right now as I am with getting a college acceptance letter in the mailbox. That is my biggest priority, and outside of Valentine’s week, it’s the only thing that I can find space in my brain to think about.
It’s still the one thing that could possibly come to wedge between me and my boys, and I’ll not stand for it.
Chapter 14
I open my eyes and stretch a little, but before I can even finish my stretch, my mind snaps to one thought and I bolt straight up out of bed.
/> “Dana! The Valentine’s auction! It’s today!” I squeal excitedly, bounding around the room with the energy of a two-year-old. I can’t remember the last time I felt so anxious and excited at the same time.
She groans under her pillow and holds her hand in the air with a thumbs-up sign. I laugh, realizing just how early it is. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just so excited for it all to be over.”
Nothing like the sweet prospect of revenge to get me out of bed.
The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. The last semester of your senior year is confusing and complicated. With applications in, there’s little left to do for class. The whole atmosphere changes the moment the last college deadline passes.
We’re all stuck in limbo until the next round of acceptance letters go out.
That, and my uncle keeps whisking me off to meet more people I’ll one day be in charge of, or to some meeting with a financial advisor who tries to explain the legal mumbo-jumbo behind the terms of my trust. It’s a good thing most of our teachers have basically given up on us too. They know it’s pointless to try to reign us all in now, and good thing, or else I’d never have been able to keep up.
Between all that and the surprising amount of preparations for the Valentine’s Day dance, I’m swamped. I’ve spent most of my free time with Blair and Wills in planning committees and roped into crafting sessions.