Unbelievable

E veryone piles food on their plates, including my parents, and I sigh with relief when full mouths put off the inevitable. My stomach is rebelling because of my anxiety, but I push the bits around so it looks like I’m eating more than I am. Silverware clinks against the dishes and awkward silence sinks over us until Allison can’t wait any longer.

“So, kids. How was school? Anyone get any exciting news today?” She sips her wine casually, looking between both sides of the table as if this just occurred to her.

The boys drop their forks, pulling their phones out in sync. I stare at the food on my plate, waiting for the celebration as they pull their apps and wave the phones wildly. Their unison answers make my gut clench. “We got into ‘Bama!”

That’s so much worse than what I expected.

I paste a cheerful smile on as Allison and Brett jump from their seats to rush to hug the boys. My hands clap, and the pleased looks my foster parents give me are telling. They knew this was coming, hence the champagne, and this little scene is solely so everyone can fawn over their achievement. Something inside of me curls up when Bryce eyes me and I know what’s coming… He’s going to ask where I got accepted because he’s worked out that I’m uncomfortable. His elbow catches his brother in the ribs and they turn their smug smiles on me.

“Celebrate with us, Kat. Tell Mom and Dad your good news,” Bryce says in a faux sweet tone.

Blake pretends to gasp and nods. “We would never want to leave you out, Kat!”

My hand shakes as I reach for my phone, dread coursing through me as Brett and Allison whirl on me as well. Their faces look eager and I wonder for a moment if they’re hoping they’ll have a third checkmark in their win column to hold up at parent meetings. They’ve never looked quite this excited to hear something I have to say before. “I… I haven’t checked yet. Let me open up the app…”

“Oh, sweetie, were you nervous? I’m sure you’re going to represent the family just as well as the boys,” Allison coos.

I am so fucking screwed.

Everyone stares at me as I fumble with unlocking my screen under their intense gazes. I get the damn thing open and click the button for the app that’s been taunting me all day. It takes forever to open, and I feel the fear sliding up my spine.

Then the doorbell rings.

“Honey, the cake is here!” Allison abandons her spot next to the boys to rush out of the room and my breath comes out in a slow sigh of relief. Brett claps Blake on the shoulder and follows her to help, leaving me alone with the twins.

“Afraid to see how badly you’ve failed, Kitty Kat?” Bryce taunts with a knowing grin. He’s the ringleader and though they aren’t truly mean, the boys know our parents favor them, so he starts shit all the time.

“No,” I mutter as I give my phone another frustrated look. Why isn’t the damn app loading? I know whatever ridiculous dessert Allison Door Dashed won’t distract them forever, and I need an answer.

“She’s definitely scared, bro. Her hands are shaking. Poor little Kitty Kat is going to be flipping burgers forever.” Blake crosses his arms over his chest as he smirks.

Pushing out of my chair, I sit my phone down and glare at them. “First, even if I end up flipping burgers forever, that’s not an insult. You couldn’t eat fifty fucking burgers a week if no one was there to flip them, you dick. Second, there are plenty of options for people who don’t get into their first choice schools. God, you two are so damned coddled!”

“Holy shit, she finally showed some claws!” Bryce hoots as he and Blake dissolve into laughter. “Maybe she can do stand-up when the colleges reject her for being a weirdo loser.”

For the love of everything holy, how am I supposed to live four more months with these clowns?

I let out a growl of irritation, picking up my phone and deciding I don’t give a shit who’s pissed; I’m noping out of this little twin asshole love fest. “The two of you can get fucked. Tell Allison I don’t feel well and I’m going downstairs to finish my homework.”

“Trust me, once the ladies hear we’re going D1, we will,” Bryce says with an exaggerated roll of his hips.

Blake high-fives him and snorts. “For real, yo!”

Turning on my heel, I move to leave the room, but Brett and Allison are standing there with pale faces. Their expressions make me stop and even the boys quit howling like monkeys. Allison clears her throat and looks me directly in the eyes as she says softly, “Kat, you have a visitor.”

“I do?” Confusion floods me and I look at my foster parents doubtfully.

“Kat never has visitors. Who is it?” Bryce starts towards the living room, only to run into Brett’s hand.

“No, son. Only Kat. He was very specific.”

I frown, looking at them both as if they’re completely insane. They never tell the boys ‘no,’ and whoever this is was important enough to override that instinct. I can’t think of anyone, outside of law enforcement, who might get that kind of response from my parents. “Okay…”

Brett and Allison move to the side, allowing me to pass before heading over to the boys to whisper to them.

Great. Not only am I going to find out they have rejected me for college, but now I have to worry about some mysterious stranger dropping by to ruin my night.

When I walk into the living room, anger washes over me. There’s no one here and no sign of anyone ever being here. I’m about to stomp back into the dining room and give all of them a piece of my mind for tricking me when I see it: a large, cream-colored envelope made of thick, fancy paper. It’s incongruent with the decor in the room, reeking of old world style and money. Stepping closer, I look at the beautiful black calligraphy on the envelope curiously. It simply says ‘Mssr. Kit Camponella’ on it.

What the hell?

My name isn’t Kit.

I tried to explain to Brett and Allison that whoever they met at the door was gone, but they refused to believe me. The boys threw in their opinions, of course, and made a huge stink about the letter. They were convinced it was some kind of inheritance and my reluctance to open it was because I didn’t want to ‘repay’ our parents for taking me in. That’s not why I didn’t want to open it in front of an audience, but they were right about the last part. I know for a fact that the Jamesons get checks to cover expenses for all three of us every month and they might not be rich, but they’re financially stable. They aren’t owed anything besides gratitude and I’ve always given back to the household without complaint.

Unlike those two morons who evade every task possible and do whatever they please.

The real reason I don’t want to open the damn thing is because I sneaked a look at my status in the app while they were all freaking out and I don’t have a single message in it. I’m not sure why it was blinking a blue ‘three’ in the notifications all day but now there’s nary a damn thing waiting for me to check, but it’s like the letter’s arrival wiped it clean. Every fiber of my being is hoping this is some sort of fancy acceptance from some weird off-the-wall college the counselor made me apply to as a safety school. Otherwise, I’m going to need it to be an inheritance or I really will be stuck working in a fast food joint next year.

Lots of people have to take gap years to save, right? It’ll be fine, Kat.

Of course, there’s the matter of the letter being addressed wrong to deal with, too. What if the damn thing is meant for someone else? Camponella isn’t a commonplace last name, but it’s not super rare, either. I got abandoned within state lines, but I’ve moved all over Kansas since as they placed me with various families. Maybe there’s an actual Kit located somewhere I’ve lived in the past eight years? That could be it and if so, that’s almost worse than discovering a blank slate in the college app. Then I’d have nothing .

I look at the envelope again, willing myself to magically read it without having to open it. My hands are shaking again, anxiety damn near strangling me as I curl up in my favorite armchair. Being like this is a giant hurdle to overcome and although my therapist has given me a million exercises to help, it’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. High school kids aren’t very kind with my episodes, but they wouldn’t be any kinder to an epileptic or someone with asthma. Teenagers are awful, and no matter how hard parents might try to teach them good habits, that fades away in the presence of their peers. Humans are pack animals and adolescents are the neediest of the bunch—approval and acceptance trump their higher brain function every time.

Okay, Kat. You’ve wasted enough time dissecting the American teenager. Bite the bullet.

Flexing my hands to control the trembling, I slide my fingers under the flap of the envelope and detach the wax seal carefully. I don’t want to rip it in case this really is a huge mistake. The possible ‘other Kit’ won’t want to receive damaged goods; I wouldn’t either if it came in this kind of fancy package. The smell of sulfur and cedar fill the air with an oddly familiar scent and I try to figure out where I’ve smelled it before. It’s not good or bad; it’s… known.

Warmest Regards, Mssr. Kit Camponella.

Your application to Discordia University has been received and we are pleased to offer you a place at the most elite school in Canto IV.

Despite the unusual method with which we received your information, our admissions department is eager to grant you a full scholarship based on your prior achievements. Your grant will include full tuition, uniforms, lodging, materials, and a monthly allotment you may use how you wish. This is one of our most generous offerings and we only give it to truly outstanding candidates.

Once you provide your signature on this document, we will fully admit you as one of our students. We will handle all necessary documentation to secure your release from any responsibilities you have currently, including but not limited to: transcripts, court documents, financial obligations, and guardian concerns. Our staff will obtain the records to provide you with any medical, financial, and personal needs upon your arrival.

You will be housed in the Citadel, a dorm for first-year students, with a roommate named Ari Zeno. I have likewise informed them of your eminent arrival and we will ensure your belongings are waiting for you. There will be an orientation on the first day where you will mingle with other new and upper-level students in order to learn about our institution from those who attend.

We wish you buona fortuna in your studies here as you navigate the challenging progression of your education and look forward to meeting you in two weeks’ time.

Cogere evlotione per mutationem,

Professor Horatio Alecto

Dean of Admissions, Discordia University

I blink at the letter in shock, turning it over and over as if suddenly an invisible ink is going to appear and declare this a cruel prank. Nothing appears and the words don’t change no matter how many times I re-read the damn thing and I suck in a sharp breath. Not only do I not remember even applying to this college, I’ve never even heard of it. But they’re offering one of the best scholarships I’ve ever seen and with no prospects appearing in the school’s program, I don’t know if I can turn it down. I’d be crazy to even consider it, truthfully. How they work out all of that administrative stuff they mentioned, I can’t fathom, but this place is offering to handle everything and get me out of this house before the end of the year.

It’s almost too good to be true; that’s why I feel so suspicious.

Brett and Allison wouldn’t pull something like this, but I wouldn’t put it past the boys to pay someone to create a cruel prank in this vein. They’re not awful, but they’re not nice dudes, either. If they even had an inkling they’d be accepted ahead of time, I could see them setting me up to look like an even bigger fool just to amuse themselves. Our parents might scold them, but they wouldn’t attempt to punish them during the season. Their performance on the field could hamper their prospects, and I know for certain no one would risk that.

Tomorrow, I need to do some heavy duty research on this place and figure out if I can accept their offer. At the moment, I’d do damn near anything to get out of Kansas and start fresh somewhere new. I’ll have to correct their typo in my name, but that shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not as if my offer is predicated on a misspelling, anyway. They said my accomplishments were what they based the admission on and I should be proud—so I will.

At least, I will once I make sure this is all real.