Where is Corinne right now? I scroll through our earlier exchange to see if she told me where she would be right now, but no luck. I need to tell her in person. Texting her the news just doesn’t carry the same effect. There is no sufficiently happy emoji for this. Mind Blown + Smiley Face? No, I need to tell her in person.

Princeton and Columbia. We’re both Ivy League–bound students now.

I check all four of the main hallways. Corinne has a free period now, but there is no sign of her in any of the school wings. I can’t locate her in Freedom, Voice, Mindfulness, or Action. All of her go-to reading benches are currently occupied or empty. I quickly text her a casual and exclamation-free: Out of practice. Wanna meet up?

I turn a corner and, instead of Corinne, spot a self-satisfied swagger I’d recognize anywhere. Normally I’d avoid it, but for once, it’s a sight I’m a little thrilled to see.

“Marvyn!” I exclaim. I crash into him, throwing both arms around his shoulders. “Buddy! Did you get it?”

“What the hell?” he says, immediately trying to wiggle free. It’s not so much the sudden physical contact, considering how often he and his bros slam into each other, but clearly, the fact that it’s me doing it. To be fair, it’s a shock for both of us.

“Personal space, Haltiwanger! Did you lick a toad or something?”

“Did you get it? Columbia decisions are out!” I squeal, finally letting him go free. “All of them, I think. Or they’re being released throughout the day. Anyway, check your email, man!”

“Oh, that.”

“Congrats!” I can’t help but hug him again. “Dude, where’s your joie de vivre? We got in!”

He simultaneously snorts and rolls his eyes. “Three legacies on my mom’s side and a recommendation from Donielle Kempf: of course I got in. It even earned a whole twenty seconds of conversation with my parents, if you can imagine,” he says. “It’s just . . .”

“Yeah?”

He looks at me up and down as if to make sure I’m not a doppelganger right now.

“You know I hate you, right?” Marvyn says. “That’s our whole thing, Haltiwanker.”

“I know!” I laugh. “I can’t stand you either, dude. And now we get to do the whole thing on an Ivy League quad!”

He snorts a laugh in spite of himself. “Whatever, Haltiwanker. You’ll be so busy frenching the Alma Mater statue for four years, you won’t even notice me.”

After another round without locating Corinne, I lean against the nearest locker and begin to type on my phone.

I have to tell Dad. It feels weird that I’ve known for almost an hour now and that he may be toiling away on some pipes or carrying the building trash bags to the curb without knowing.