- 5.
Chad wouldn’t leave me alone.
The school had Stanford alumni back for a
panel. Chad sat next to me.
He stopped me before the meeting. “I don’t
know how to say this.”
“Then don’t.” I walked around him, but he
blocked me.
Chad bit his lip, “Can you give your Stanford
spot to Brittany?”
<
“No.”
I tried to shake him off.
Chad grabbed my wrist, pulling me to the
side.
“Reagan, you’re the only one who can save
Brittany.”
Chad told me that Brittany had a suicide
attempt. She faked it, then called Chad. He
broke down the door and saved her.
After this plot straight out of a bad 80s
movie, Brittany said that she couldn’t live if
they couldn’t go to the same school.
Everyone knew that Chad and I had offers to
<
go to Stanford.
Brittany’s grades are more for community college.
“Great, Chad.” I nodded, “She wants to go to the same school as you? You want to make
her dream come true?”
I smiled at him, “Tutor her.”
“Maybe God will make a miracle happen.”
I turned to leave. Chad screamed.
“Reagan, what are you talking about? Brittany
can’t take the stress of exams.”
“She doesn’t want to take the exam and
expects us to give her our spot in Stamford?
<
That’s an awful mindset. Now, let me leave,
the alumni are waiting.”
I finally got away from Chad.
He said, “I know what you did. You killed her father.”
I froze, turning back.
“Brittany told me that you asked for chicken soup, but her dad drove all night and went to
get the ingredients for you. He got tired and
that’s why he got into the accident.”
I turned pale, Chad was calmer.
“Of course, Reagan, I know you didn’t mean
it, but Brittany is the way she is because of
you. You need to make it up to her.”
<
I didn’t say anything and Chad tried to hug
- me.
“Reagan, I only feel bad for Brittany. She’s
your sister, I treat her like a sister too. But I’ll
always love you…”
A voice cut him off.
“Dude, you’ve been blocking this pathway for
ten minutes, are you going to let anyone
through?”
Chad and I turned.
A woman in a white shirt was standing with
her hands in her pockets.
I recognized her. She was one of the Stanford
alumni Professor Avery who was there for
く
I froze when I heard her voice.
I heard the voice before: “Want a do–over?”
The person right behind her said, “Sorry,
Professor Avery. I’m on it.”
The man was also a Stanford Alumni. His
name tag said “Stanford Alumni Professor
Zeller.”
Memories flashed through my head.
I knew these two.
