My Application, My Say

The day my SAT scores came out, my parents threw a dinner for the whole town and bragged to everyone they ran into. "My daughter got really good score. She's made us so proud."

However, now, as I gripped my phone, my fingertips were slowly going cold.

"Mom, my stomach is bothering me."

There was a half-second pause on the other end. "Your stomach again? Dinner's already ready."

"It really hurts. I'm going to get it checked at the urgent care clinic first."

I turned and walked away from the building.

Mom's voice turned urgent. "Come back first. Mr. Ormsby is right here. The verification code will only take a few seconds. You can go to the clinic after we're done."

I stopped at the side of the road and took a deep breath. "I've already confirmed my applications myself. Nobody else needs to touch them."

The voice on the other end went completely silent.

A few seconds later, Dad scoffed. "Think you're all grown up now, huh?"

I hung up, then immediately took a taxi to the urgent care clinic.

In the taxi, I opened the application portal. The first thing I did was change my password.

My old password was the last six digits of my ID number plus my birthday. My parents could have guessed it far too easily. I set a new, complicated password, linked a backup email, and changed all my security questions.

The second thing I did was log back in and reconfirm my applications. At the top of the list was Calvert University, computer science. Below it were the reach schools and safety schools I had carefully picked out myself.

I turned on screen recording and captured everything from the login time, the page details, and my application list to the final confirmation, all the way until I logged out.

The third thing I did was send the recording and screenshots to my best friend, Wendy Morales, and to my backup email.

The fourth thing I did was leave a message with the state admissions office hotline.

"This is Callie Danforth, applicant ID number 4471-2093. I have personally confirmed my college applications, and I do not authorize anyone to fill out, change, or confirm them on my behalf. If any unusual changes are made, I request an investigation."

The fifth thing I did was post a message in my class group chat. [I have personally confirmed my college applications. No teacher, parent, or relative is allowed to change them for me.]

The group chat had been full of congratulations up until then. The moment I sent that message, it went dead silent.

After a little over ten seconds, Gareth Ormsby replied. [Callie, there's no need to be nervous. I'm only helping you double-check things. I would never make decisions for you.]

Looking at that message, my stomach turned. Were it not for the floating comments, I might have actually believed he cared about me.

When I got to the clinic, I checked in at the front desk. The doctor ordered some tests and kept me for observation.

I was taking the paperwork to the payment counter when someone near the entrance suddenly let out a cry.

A middle-aged woman in a beige blouse was clutching the self-service kiosk, her face pale and her forehead covered in sweat.

Her medical file slipped from her hands and fell to the floor.

The people nearby just stood around staring.

I rushed over and held her up. "Ma'am, is your blood sugar low? Can you hear me?"

Her lips trembled, and she could not answer. I called for a nurse, then ran to the vending machine and bought a bottle of orange juice.

A nurse came over with a wheelchair, and I helped get her into the treatment room.

After about ten minutes or so, she recovered.

She looked at me, her voice still a little weak. "Sweetheart, what's your name?"

"Callie Danforth."

"Which school do you go to?"

"Cedar Hollow High. I just graduated."