One Small Thing(47)

It all ended when Rachel died. It was like all my ambitions and dreams were really Rachel’s and when she was gone, my passion for anything dried up like ash and blew away.

“She had choir, too. Oh, and honors club.” Plus, she had Jeff, the golden boy. Rachel was going places. I have no doubt she would’ve gotten into whatever Ivy League college she applied to and rocked it there.

Me, I have nothing to do with my time. Working at the shelter was the only thing I really enjoyed, but other than that, I tried to fill my time with parties and boys. I didn’t sleep with Chase to piss off my parents. If that was the case, I would’ve told them. I slept with him because something was missing in my life and I felt like I could fill it with him.

But I only feel emptier now.

I’ve become directionless. Or I’ve been directionless for a while and just came to the realization today. I’ve been so busy blaming everyone else for my unhappiness that I didn’t take a look at myself.

I don’t like what I see.

Frowning, I force myself to get to my feet, even though it means no more doggy kisses from Morgan. “I’m sorry, pupster, but I’ve gotta go. Time to make some changes.”

Upstairs, I sit on my bed and open my laptop. With a sense of determination, I pull up Darling High’s webpage. Wow. There are a ton of different electives and clubs, so many it’s hard to scroll through them all.

I start reading and taking notes. A shadow pauses by the doorway but moves on without interrupting. I keep scrolling. I do some additional researching.

“Bingo,” I say, staring at my round letters on my notepad.

I start typing. It takes me several hours, but when I’m done, I’m pretty darn pleased.

As of this moment, I’m no longer the girl without direction. I’m the girl with a plan.





19

“What’s this?” Mom asks the next morning as I slide the printed page toward her.

“It’s a contract,” I say proudly. I reach across the kitchen table to give Dad his copy.

He squints at it, unable to read without his glasses. “A contract for what?”

“It’s a...” My mom trails off as she keeps reading.

“It’s a family contract,” I declare. There were other titles, like Contract for Good Behavior and Contract for Responsibility, but they all sounded so demeaning and one-sided. “I promise to abide by rules that you believe will keep me safe, and in exchange you allow me to visit the school of my choice.”

“You are not going to USC,” Dad says, slapping the paper down.

I have to bite back an angry response. “It’s not USC or UCLA or Miami. It’s Iowa State.”

That stuns them into silence. Mom picks up her coffee cup and takes a quick sip. Dad narrows his eyes at me.

“Iowa State,” he echoes suspiciously.

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “Yes.”

Mom finally finds her voice. “Why Iowa State? This is the first time you’ve mentioned it.”

“It’s the first time I’ve thought of it,” I admit. “But it’s the one school that came up over and over again in my research last night.”

Mom looks curious. “What research?”

Her receptiveness has me barreling forward. “I want to be a vet. I’m going to have to change a few classes next semester, although I don’t think my high school credits matter much. But it’s always a good thing to have extra sciences under your belt if you’re going the medicine route, even doggy medicine. Iowa State is one of the top vet schools in the country, and it’s close by so that you can visit often.” But far enough away that I can have some feeling of independence. I don’t explain this point to my parents, though. No sense in scaring them away.

Mom purses her lips in thought.

Dad still looks skeptical.

“It’s only six hours away from here,” I tell them. “And I’m not even asking to attend there. I’m asking for a school visit.”

Dad glances down at the contract again. “It also says that we’ll give you back your phone if you’ve been compliant with all our rules.”

“Yes. It’s hard to contact you if I have a problem at school or on the way home.”

“And you want to go back to the animal shelter.”

“Yes.”

“Since when do you want to be a vet?” Dad asks.

“Since last night,” I confess. “It was an epiphany.”

Mom’s lips twitch as if she’s trying not to smile, but then she can’t fight it anymore, and a huge grin spreads across her face.

My heart squeezes, because it’s been so long since I’ve gotten such a big smile from her. And her eyes are shining with pride.

“You know how much I love animals. If it was up to me, we’d adopt every stray that showed up on our doorstep.” From the moment I saw my very first dog at the age of three, I’d begged my parents for a pet. A dog, cat, fish, hamster, anything. But our house has always been staunchly pet-free.

“So last night I sat down and really thought about what I want to do after high school and what I love most in the world, and I kept coming back to animals. I want to work with animals.” I shrug. “And I’m good at sciences, so I think I’d do really well at vet school.”