Status: Ongoing
The Four
Chapter 1
I was the last person on Earth who honestly thought I'd get in. Years of sleepless nights and parties skipped, emptying coffee cups and presenting papers, and still, I thought I was just a dreamer. I wasn't one to be hard on myself, but I was painstakingly realistic - grades and extracurriculars only meant so much to an Ivy League university, especially when the girl in consideration is attending a small community college in North Carolina.
But somehow, some way, it all paid off. One summer night, I got my acceptance letter in the mail, and in two short months, I was moving to New York City. I was saying goodbye to Raleigh, the city I was born and raised in, and moving out of my parents' house for the first time ever.
No one was more surprised than myself.
My parents were about as excited as they could be, considering the substantial tuition we were now bound to pay, on top of the enormous expense to move. We've lived in the same modest house since I was born, my parents both worked full-time jobs and I joined them the day I turned 16. We rarely spent money on new clothes or extraneous things, as my paychecks went straight into savings for college. I didn't have the most recent iPhone, on-brand jeans or even my own car. Yet even after all that saving, including two years of community college to knock out transferrable credits, I didn't have the luxury of moving to New York without a second thought. A quick Google search of rent prices in the city had my father's head all but rolling to the floor.
Enter Aunt Lydia. She wasn't really my aunt, but rather a dear lifelong friend of my mother's. When they were in college, they briefly opened a small bakery in Raleigh together - it was their joint dream to own their own bakery for a living . The two of them are the best bakers I know, but the business didn't last. My mother got married and pregnant with me, and Aunt Lydia moved to Brooklyn for an apprenticeship. She visited Raleigh and stayed with us all the time when I was growing up, and I'd be lying if I said she didn't help inspire my hopes of living in New York. She couldn't have been more supportive of my dreams, from when I aspired to be a zoologist in the third grade all the way until now.
And so, Aunt Lydia graciously offered to let me move in with her in Brooklyn once I start school in the fall. I'd never been before but was told I'd have my own bedroom and closet, which was apparently a big deal for an apartment in New York. She'd kicked out a tenant for me, so I would have to pay a modest monthly rent to her, which didn't phase me in the least.
It was happening, really happening. I was going to Columbia University, the school of my dreams in the city of my dreams.
But somehow, some way, it all paid off. One summer night, I got my acceptance letter in the mail, and in two short months, I was moving to New York City. I was saying goodbye to Raleigh, the city I was born and raised in, and moving out of my parents' house for the first time ever.
No one was more surprised than myself.
My parents were about as excited as they could be, considering the substantial tuition we were now bound to pay, on top of the enormous expense to move. We've lived in the same modest house since I was born, my parents both worked full-time jobs and I joined them the day I turned 16. We rarely spent money on new clothes or extraneous things, as my paychecks went straight into savings for college. I didn't have the most recent iPhone, on-brand jeans or even my own car. Yet even after all that saving, including two years of community college to knock out transferrable credits, I didn't have the luxury of moving to New York without a second thought. A quick Google search of rent prices in the city had my father's head all but rolling to the floor.
Enter Aunt Lydia. She wasn't really my aunt, but rather a dear lifelong friend of my mother's. When they were in college, they briefly opened a small bakery in Raleigh together - it was their joint dream to own their own bakery for a living . The two of them are the best bakers I know, but the business didn't last. My mother got married and pregnant with me, and Aunt Lydia moved to Brooklyn for an apprenticeship. She visited Raleigh and stayed with us all the time when I was growing up, and I'd be lying if I said she didn't help inspire my hopes of living in New York. She couldn't have been more supportive of my dreams, from when I aspired to be a zoologist in the third grade all the way until now.
And so, Aunt Lydia graciously offered to let me move in with her in Brooklyn once I start school in the fall. I'd never been before but was told I'd have my own bedroom and closet, which was apparently a big deal for an apartment in New York. She'd kicked out a tenant for me, so I would have to pay a modest monthly rent to her, which didn't phase me in the least.
It was happening, really happening. I was going to Columbia University, the school of my dreams in the city of my dreams.
♠ ♠ ♠
Listen... Chapters 1 and 2 are BG. I regret nothing.