The woman spoke of bland topics like advisors and roommate assignments and the campus bookstore, but her voice was enthralling. Every other sentence was a compliment. Zed and Apollo’s class was the biggest, the most competitive, the most diverse, the most international, the most global. Superlatives bounced around the room like a JezzBall, transforming even mundane statements into reasons to applaud. The excitement caused the volume to slowly begin to return to its earlier high, but the woman seemed to be in control, her arms gradually ascending as compliments continued to gush from her perfect, gleaming teeth.

Things really livened once the speech became individualized. “We had a 13 percent acceptance rate this year, but you made it! We had the highest average SAT scores on record, but you made it. We scheduled this orientation at 11 a.m. on a Monday, but you made it.” Suddenly, the room detonated, cheers and claps and whistles erupting from nearly every person in attendance. Only the custodian, a small Latino standing near the door with a broom, seemed unfazed. Apollo scoffed when he realized he was also standing; he didn’t even remember rising. He looked at Zed, who was also coming down from the collective high. Of all the parents in the audience, only Mr. Pang seemed unaffected; still seated, his legs were indifferently crossed, his brow flat.

As the cheering receded and butts collapsed back into seats, the second woman, whose pantsuit was much looser, rose and elaborated on the topics the first woman had packaged with filler. Her voice was pleasant, but she offered no compliments. Apollo could feel the room drift into hostility. Did this woman not know who she was talking to? They were the class of 2023—disruptors, innovators, pioneers, dreamers. Cell phones gradually migrated to eager hands, crushing candy, snapping selfies. The woman droned on for a solid twenty minutes, losing the audience with each word. But toward the end of her speech, she mentioned football, and the odds were immediately in her favor. One man dropped his phone, the resulting thunk echoing throughout the suddenly quiet room.

The speech ended without further mention of football, but the opportunity was not lost. As soon as the second woman turned to head to her seat, the first woman quickly returned, flanked by cheerleaders with gun-like devices. “I heard you guys like football!” Apollo heard her shout as Mr. Pang spirited them out of the auditorium. A towel whizzed over his head into the arms of a small Asian toddler as they rushed down the aisle. Apollo was shocked at how many evil glares the girl received. Nothing in this world is free, he heard his mom say from somewhere deep in his skull.