Last Days At Forcard's Highschool

--- *THE LAST 30 DAYS OF FOCARD'S HIGH**Day 29: The UCLA Lie* Day 29 started with a lie already sitting heavy in my chest before first period. Tasha noticed. Of course she did. "You're quiet," she said, sliding into the seat next to me in English. Her eyes were still puffy from yesterday. "What's in the backpack? You've been holding it like it has money." It wasn't money. It was the letter. Not the fake acceptance letter I showed my mom. The real one. The one that said "We regret to inform you..." from UCLA, USC, and Stanford. All in one week. All in the same cold font. My mom had already posted on Facebook: "My daughter is going to UCLA! To God be the glory! 🎉" 47 likes. 12 comments saying "Congratulations." My aunt called from Nigeria. My pastor prayed for me on Sunday. And I just stood there and said "Thank you." I couldn't tell Tasha. Not yet. Not when she just got dumped. Not when Maya just found her ex with someone else. My pain felt selfish compared to theirs. But 4th period, everything scattered. We were in the hallway, and Mr. Daniels — my counselor — saw me. Loud. Too loud. "Hey! Did you make a decision? UCLA needs your deposit by Friday! Big future ahead!" Everyone turned. Tasha turned. Maya turned. The hallway at Focard's High went quiet in that way hallways do when gist is about to drop. "UCLA?" Tasha whispered. "You got into UCLA? You told me you were still waiting?" Maya was already pulling out her phone. "Girl, why didn't you post it? UCLA? That's Ivy level!" I felt my face get hot. My throat closed. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me like in those Nollywood films. "I... yeah," I stammered. "I got the email last week. I wanted to tell you guys properly." Tasha hugged me. Hard. "Are you crazy? This is amazing! We need to celebrate!" And that made it worse. She was crying yesterday about her breakup, and now she was happy for me. For a lie. I walked away fast. To the bleachers. Our bleachers. I sat there alone till 4pm until Tasha found me. "You lied," she said. Not shouting. Worse. Quiet. She was holding my backpack. Open. The three rejection letters inside. "Why would you lie about UCLA?" I broke. Full tears, ugly cry, mascara everywhere. "Because my mom already told everybody! Because everyone expects me to be the smart one! Because if I'm not going to UCLA, then what am I? Just a girl whose best friend is leaving and whose life is ending in 29 days?" Tasha didn't say anything for a long time. Then she sat down next to me and said, "So we both got rejected this week. You by colleges. Me by a boy. Same thing, different envelope." We laughed. Cried. At the same time. Day 29: I told one person the truth. Day 28: I have to tell my mom. ---"Have you ever lied about something big because everyone expected too much? 😭 Day 28 tomorrow - she tells her mom."

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