Two weeks ago, Mac celebrated her twentieth birthday and finished up what (she hoped would be) the last set of finals she'd ever take at Hearst.
A week after that, she got dragged along on the biannual rite of torture camping trip with her family
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*It's probably not about college.*
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Mac rips open the envelope with one quick -- if slightly fumbly -- gesture and shakes out the letter.
A few seconds later, her face falls.
"Dammit." It's quiet, but vehement.
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"Hey," she mumbles, mustering up a small half-smile.
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Um. Problem?
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And it's not like she'd really been expecting them to let her transfer, but there'd been that tiny hope. Plus, it's making her a hell of a lot more nervy about opening the other three letters.
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*He leans over.* Those others also college letters?
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A beat.
Dryly, "Maybe if I stare at them long enough, I'll manifest X-ray vision and won't have to open them."
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*Sign #3152352146 that you might be a geek: you firmly believe that no hypothetical situation is too absurd to be analyzed.*
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*He looks at the envelope she's picking at.*
Want me to hang around, or go away?
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"Hang around for a sec for moral support?"
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*He waits. For moral support, and, he resolves silently, for either celebratory or consolatory drinks afterwards.*
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Rrrrip. She unfolds the letter, scanning it.
And a second later, she's beaming.
"I got in."
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*Andrew beams back.*
Which one's that?
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She's still grinning as she grabs the last two. With the extra burst of confidence propelling her onward, she doesn't even hesitate before tearing them open.
"And..." Skimming again. "Bryn Mawr thinks I'm cool, CMU doesn't." She makes a mild disappointed face at the Carnegie Mellon letter before she flicks it on top of the MIT letter. "Two for four. Could be worse."
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