The Thrill Is Gone

The deadline to submit the statement of intent to register had almost passed. It’d be just a few more minutes before the public would no longer have access to the webpage. The overwhelming majority of students had already submitted their statements. They’d wanted to get it out of the way, to do it early to ensure that the computers wouldn’t fuck up on them and make them miss the deadline. Most of them submitted their statements by the first week of April, not being particularly keen to drag out the process. By April 27th, everyone except for three individuals had submitted their statements. And it was those same three people that were freaking out just minutes before the clock struck midnight in Massachusetts.

There was a young man in Wisconsin by the name of Aaron Matthews that was torn between attending Harvard like he’d always wanted or following in his father’s footsteps by going to Yale, there was a young woman in Oregon by the name of Stephanie Zhang, whom was torn between Stanford and Harvard, and then there was Paulina, who looked an absolute fright, and hadn’t slept in close to forty-one hours, not even a brief nap, and she was struggling to decide between Harvard and Oxford.

In the month leading up to that moment, Paulina had entertained the thought that by the deadline, she’d know what to do. April was such a long month, with thirty days perfect for making an important decision, but somehow or another, she had managed to get through the entire month without doing so. Thirty fucking days to make the decision, and she still didn’t know where the hell it was that she’d be in the fall.

And now, now she had three minutes left to decide what path she’d be taking for the next three years of her life. There were times when Harvard seemed the right choice. She’d fixated on the screen, her finger dragging the arrow over to the submit button, but then, just as she was about to click it, she’d decide that it wasn’t worth it. That it wasn’t the right school. Harvard suddenly lost its allure, it wasn’t worth serious contemplation, and she found herself on the Oxford webpage, nearly submitting the statement for them.

It had been like that for the last forty-one hours. She’d missed class in order to sit in front of her laptop at the kitchen table, obsessing over what to do, only leaving to grab something to eat or drink, or to use the bathroom. She was going crazy. She knew she was. She’d let the decision spiral out of control, and as a result of that, she’d turned into a hermit, she’d missed class (something that she’d never done, not at Oxford), and she was experiencing bouts of terror at the future that left her shaken and crying. Why couldn’t things be easier? Why couldn’t Harry just run off to America and live with her? It wasn’t like he was actually going to be sent to war. The last time he’d gone, he’d been pulled out because the media found out, and she very much doubted that the media wouldn’t find out again. They’d sniff out his location, and endanger him and the lives of others. There was no point to it. No point to his being there. They wouldn’t send him out again. So why couldn’t he just run off with her? Why couldn’t he make things easier?

Two minutes . . .

She clicked back to the Oxford website. Quickly reading over the statement of intent to register, going over the lines that she’d come to know almost by heart. Would she go there? Could she go there and be happy when all her Rhodes friends were going back to their home countries, when Alfred would be starting work as a lawyer in London? Alfred had had his degree in law for two years, but he’d chosen to get his degree in philosophy in order to feel like he’d done something for himself, and not just what was expected for him. And Olivia, she might have been the one to stay closest to Oxford, but she’d be busy with working long hours at the hospital, with trying to find a balance between work, family, and Alfred. And Henry, well, he’d be at training. He’d be gone most days, training or carrying out his royal duties. She’d have him for a weekend or two a month, but she’d be alone, alone except for Lady Fellowes.

And Paulina wasn’t sure she was up for it. Some would say that she could make friends, but she wouldn’t be able to do so without wondering if they were her friends or if they were the friend of Prince Harry’s girlfriend. She couldn’t trust them, and she wouldn’t trust at Harvard either, but at Harvard, she had a busy schedule waiting for her, she had enough to keep her occupied.

One minute . . .

Senator Kennedy had gotten her a job. He’s sent an email stating that if she was to enroll at Harvard, he’d secure her a research position as Professor Elizabeth Warren’s assistant. It’d be paid. Not much. Only ten dollars an hour, but it’d look well on a resume and it’d be a great learning experience. The research would keep her busy. It would take the time she might have dedicated to friends during the week, it would keep her from spending time with others, but she was fine with that. She wasn’t looking to make friends during law school, acquaintances, yes, but not friends. The research position would make her feel less lonely. It would make her feel productive. She was grateful to Senator Kennedy. He had taken an interest in her. He was putting her on the right path towards Washington DC. He wanted her to be his prodigy, and was looking to give her the best connections possible.

Thirty seconds . . .

Harvard would secure her future in politics, but what good would that do her if she was to, a few years down the line become Harry’s wife? What use would being Harvard educated be in that position? Her mind ran wild trying to find an answer to that question. That was the question, the one that would answer everything. If she was somehow fated to become a duchess then what good would it do for her to have gone to Harvard? What good would it do to have those connections? Couldn’t she just forego them? Do without? If destiny meant for her to be a duchess then why bother? Why not just go to Oxford?

The answer, of course, was simply to know that she had gone to Harvard. That she’d put in the effort and pursued the dream she’d held her entire life, that she hadn’t just waited around to get married, that she’d actively pursued her goal with everything she had. And that despite her path changing later in life, that despite ending up a duchess with a tiara and a prince for a husband, she’d fulfilled the dreams she’d had as a child, carved her own way, and despite not having become a senator, she would’ve given it her best, and then gone along another path to happiness.

That was why, in the end, with only a few seconds left, she submitted her statement to Harvard.