It’s spring break, and Corinne is leaving for Switzerland tonight. She’ll be gone all week. Her mother is sweeping her off to Geneva, of all places, where Chantale is to be the keynote speaker of some academic conference. If I were paranoid, I would think Chantale was padding her daughter’s calendar to spend as little time as possible near the dog walker from downstairs, but Corinne assures me that’s not it.

“Trust me: there’s always a new conference on the calendar after she walks in on me video-chatting with Dad.” Corinne sighed when she told me. “Some children of divorce get two Christmases. I get room service, a few very nice mother-daughter dinners, and reassurance that I’m her priority.”

Ming and I agreed to send her off together. Even though Corinne and I are now dating, the three of us make for a pretty seamless tricycle whenever we hang out. After dropping off my last dog of the day, I pull out my phone to check the Columbia portal on my way to meet with them.

Henri Haltiwanger’s application is still PENDING. This time, however, I notice the time stamp at the bottom of the screen.

Last Accessed: Browser

Location: United States (NY) / 986.15.72

Time: 11:23 a.m. (7 minutes ago)

I don’t know our IP address by heart, but it can only be one person: Dad. After all, we set up the account together. He’s been good about not bringing up college at dinner, only casually bringing up my day at school, but it’s obviously on his mind almost as much as it is on mine.

It’s not just me. College is all that any senior student of FATE Academy can talk about this week. Save for those who already know where they’re headed, or Marvyn the Unbothered, we’re all vibrating at the same frequency of anxiety. You recognize it when you see someone taking a moment alone to stare at their phone with a furrowed brow. I really felt for Trevor O’Keefe after catching him slam his head back into a locker and shove his phone into his pocket. Trevor is the ringer of the wrestling team, known for his temper on the mat. If he had gotten rejected from Cornell, a chair would have at the very least been thrown across the hall.

In the computer lab, online application portals can be spotted being furtively logged on to and then xed out of in frustration when the “pending” status hasn’t been updated. We all know we get an automatic email notice the moment decisions are out, but manually checking the portal makes us feel like we’re at least doing something about our fate.