Small Admissions Read online

  To: Angela

  From: Nancy

  Subject: Apologies

  * * *

  I’m so sorry we couldn’t make it to your holiday party. What a lovely invitation. We were all set to go when poor Gus started complaining about a sore throat. He’s fine by the way, but I didn’t want to risk spreading a bug, especially during the holidays.

  Would really love to meet your sister who works at Hudson. When would be good? How about early January? Coffee or lunch would work best for me.

  Nancy

  To: Kate

  From: Victoria

  Subject: Misunderstanding

  * * *

  I’m glad you asked me about the situation at Angela’s party because I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you anyway. The whole thing was absurd because Doug totally overreacted, and I can’t understand why. Given his insane reaction, it was better that you weren’t there when we showed up, unless you could have calmed him down.

  I was only trying to help. Since you’re doing so well, I thought it would be good for you to see Robert. He wants to apologize to you so that we can all be friends. It’s awkward for us, you know. I’ve known Robert since college, and suddenly I’m supposed to never speak to him again? And what about Chloe? She and Robert are family—what’s she supposed to do? Cut him off permanently? It’s important to her that we can at least all be in a room together.

  I was of course planning to tell you that Robert had been in touch with me. I told Angela first because I wanted to make sure it was a good idea for you to see him, and she agreed that it was. I assumed you wouldn’t mind hearing what he has to say. Just a chance to apologize—is that really too much to ask? Angela and I thought it seemed reasonable, but her crazy husband completely flipped out and started a barbaric fistfight right in front of everyone. It was embarrassing and unnecessary.

  So tell me honestly: are you over Robert or what? I assumed after all this time that you’ve finally moved on. Was I wrong?

  Ciao,

  Victoria

  To: Kate

  From: Angela

  Subject: Christmas at my place, you’re coming, right?

  * * *

  I don’t know what she told you, but I had absolutely NO idea Victoria was going to bring that asshole to my party. All she told me was that she thought at some point Robert should apologize to you in person so that you can really feel like that entire nightmare is behind you. How she translated that to bringing him to my apartment, I really can’t begin to understand.

  Your choice of friends has me baffled. These girls do not seem to have your best interest at heart. And what’s the deal with the date you brought with you—Sherman?!—and why was he wearing a “tuxedo” sweatshirt? The guy is short on style, I guess. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him, but Doug said he was very nice and insanely smart. But be careful, Kate. Go slow. Slooooooow.

  And another thing—why would you go out to dinner with your BOSS? I thought we went over this already. I mean, Kate, you must, you absolutely must set appropriate boundaries with him. Seriously, that’s just common sense. You’re new to the whole workplace dos and don’ts, but I’m not. Dinner for two is a big don’t. How do you think his wife would feel about it?

  Mom sent us marzipan and a Christmas card with a drawing of that sadistic Knecht Ruprecht and the bundle of switches he uses for hitting naughty children. A god-awful invention if you ask me (the switches, not the marzipan).

  The card says (verbatim):

  Happy Christmas, my dearest girls. As we enter the New Year, keep in mind that finding a grub can define success.

  Southward Ho!

  All our love,

  Mami and Papi

  P.S. The children in Finland read late but brilliantly.

  Translate, please, because as usual, I don’t get it. Grubs?? What?

  On another note—I have a friend Nancy whose son Gus is applying to Hudson, and she asked if she could meet you. I know you’re new there, but anything you can tell her about admissions, she’d appreciate.

  Angela

  To: Nancy

  From: Sam

  Subject: what is your problem

  * * *

  how can you be this pissed off. i’m in singapore for christ sake. i was supposed to come back for a fucking cookie party? are you out of your fucking mind? mountain out of mole hill. ask dr. richards. he’ll tell you you’re being crazy.

  S

  To: Sam

  From: Nancy

  Subject: Fuck off

  * * *

  Dr. Richards is a she. How can you not know this? Gus needs to get into a school, and this would have been a perfect way to make a personal connection. Whatever. I’ll handle everything on my own like I always do since you’re NEVER here and clearly don’t give a damn about me or Gus. You should be honest if you’re cheating on me. I do not want a disease.

  Gus might be a big pain in the ass but guess what’s a bigger pain in the ass? Homeschooling.

  —me

  PARENT STATEMENT for Gus Smith

  From: Nancy and Sam Smith

  Gus is our delightful ray of sunshine, and we believe that Hudson Day offers an environment that is wonderfully suited to his happy disposition and perfectly in line with his learning style. He just loves to go to school every day. Gus has had a fabulous elementary school experience, and we are excited to watch him venture off to the next steps: middle school and beyond! As an only child, Gus is a wonderful and caring family member, and we continue to be impressed by his leadership and example.

  Gus, while special to us, is in many ways a typical young boy and spends his time on all the activities other boys his age enjoy: sports, friends, homework, and play. He is quite an artist! We noted that even at an early age he had a real “eye.” When he was younger he would color and color until every single bit of white paper was covered in crayon. As he got older he developed a gift for rendering objects, whether in colored pencil or acrylic paint. He is truly quite remarkable! His picture “Still Life with Watermelon” is hanging on the wall of our kitchen. His ability to create works of art is one he will surely wish to develop in the art studios of Hudson Day, and it is our wish to see his paintings gracing your lovely halls.

  Sam and I support Gus in every way we can; it is a constant joy to be his loving parents.

  We are happy to share any further insights about Gus, and we look forward to hearing from you.

  Sincerely,

  Sam and Nancy Smith

  To: Sherman

  From: Kate

  Subject: heaps of thanks

  * * *

  Hey, just wanted to say thanks again so much for going with me to my sister’s party, and sorry we walked into such a crazy scene—you’re a good sport. It was so nice to see you! The rehashing of my unhappy months in the lab was incredibly therapeutic, so I have to thank you for that as well. And while your confidence in me is very heartening, I believe that Prof. Greene was not entirely wrong and, on some level, knew what he was doing, even if his manner was demeaning. Did he finally get your letter of rec written, or is he still caught up on the book tour?

  On a brighter note, I’m so excited for you about Lakshmi—I always admired and respected her, and I think you guys are perfect together. She is one lucky lady because you are a total catch, my friend. I hope you guys have a smashing time at the renaissance faire. Sounds awesome.

  Keeping my fingers crossed for you on the job front. Let me know when you hear.

  Kate

  Dear Ms. Pearson,

  Thank you so much for interviewing me the other day. I really liked talking to you, and you were the best interviewer I have had so far! I loved everything you told me about the school. The students sound so nice, and I’m sure I would love taking science classes, meeting new friends, and reading all the good books you teach there.

  Thanks a million for the time you took talking to me. I was nervous before I met you, but it turned out to be really fun.

 
; Sincerely yours,

  Claudia

  P.S. Did you talk to your friend? I have been trying to think up a good reason why she did that, and I can’t. Sorry.

  To: Chloe

  From: Kate

  Subject: thank you

  * * *

  Thanks for the oatmeal cookies!—they were ridiculous. I shared them with everyone here and am getting very popular because of you. I wish I’d seen you when you came by, but as usual I was in the middle of an interview. I miss you, and I’m so disappointed that I had to cancel our plans last night. I thought the Hudson holiday party was just going to be some quick after-work thing, but it turned out that it’s this major event, and it went on until after 10:00. Great food and so much wine—you cannot imagine how much high school teachers drink. Wow.

  I assume you heard about the infamous party? Don’t want to put you in the middle of things, but “Victoria” already did, and we need to talk about Robert. It’s time for you to patch things up with him. I don’t want you to stay mad at him because of me, okay? I know how close you two are. And I should have told you something a long time ago—my collapse, my meltdown, whatever it was, was not only about Robert. There was other stuff going on, and I’d like to explain it all to you someday. But meanwhile, don’t be angry with Robert anymore. It’s over and done with.

  But Vicki? I don’t get it. It’s not like she and Robert were ever such good friends. Can you explain what she’s up to?

  I’m at work all the time, up to my ears in files to read. This job is way, way more intense than I thought it would be. I’d love to get together once we’ve finally sent our decisions out in February.

  Oh, and why are you asking me about farms? Is this some volunteer thing, like growing vegetables for children who live in urban “food deserts”? I’m happy to help with a project if you need it although I’m not really into nature. Also, do you think it can wait until after the admissions season is over? I’m swamped.

  Xoxo K

  ISEE SCORES

  Student: Dillon Blake

  Verbal Reasoning: 1

  Reading Comprehension: 2

  Quantitative Reasoning: 1

  Mathematics Achievement: 1

  ESSAY: In the space below please describe your idea of a perfect day.

  A perfect day for me wuld be hanging out with my friends and doing nothing but hanging out them. We wuld hang out, talk, and play video games.

  We wuld hang out because my friends and me like to hang out together and laugh. At school we play chase in the yard and play tackel.

  We wuld talk. I like talking my friends because it is fun. We say funny things and make jokes.

  We wuld be playing video games the whole day. I am a leval 8 and I wuld kill evryone and beat my friends and say, “AAHHHHHHHH, I killed you!” really loud.

  That wuld be my perfect day.

  January

  “I love to cook,” I told my date. “I would cook every night of the week if I didn’t work so late all the time.”

  “I prefer to eat out,” he said. I was clearly boring him, but I liked how polite he was about it. He hadn’t checked his phone once since he’d sat down. “It’s great that you have something you like to do.”

  “A home-cooked meal isn’t your idea of heaven?” I asked.

  “No, not really. All those dirty dishes to deal with.”

  “Would you ever want to live on a farm?” I asked.

  He put his coffee cup on the table. “I’m afraid not. Sorry.”

  The “sorry” killed me because he said it so sincerely, like he felt really bad for disappointing me. What a nice guy. “I’d like to have a vegetable garden,” I went on, and then I had to remind myself again that this wasn’t about me.

  “Not really my thing, gardens, yards, cooking, any of that. But, hey, kudos for finding a passion.”

  We’d been talking for over half an hour, and I found this man so appealing, in spite of the fact that we had absolutely nothing in common. He seemed mature in a way that I thought might be good for Kate. He was handsome and possibly a little uptight, but I couldn’t tell for sure. He was grounded, that’s what it was. Grounded. Exactly what Kate needed. He was a left-leaning, lonely doctor, finishing his residency at a psychiatric hospital. He had no time to meet women and spent most of his time with people who were either severely deranged or highly medicated. Kate would seem so stable in comparison. It was too good to be true.

  “Can I come clean with you about something?” I asked.

  “We have no chemistry?”

  “Are you allowed to say that?”

  “I think so, unless you think it’s rude. In which case, I apologize.”

  “It’s blunt, but it’s okay.” I took a deep breath, and plunged in. “I want you to meet a friend of mine. She’s smart and fabulous, and I think maybe you’d like each other.”

  “Do you always pass your bad dates along to other people?”

  “You’re not a bad date. And I don’t ever do this. Ever. Her name’s Kate.”

  “Another Kate?”

  “Sorry, I’m Chloe.”

  “Your profile says Kate.”

  “Yeah, well, Kate’s coming out of a rough patch.”

  “What’s that a euphemism for? She’s a recovering meth addict? A schizophrenic? How rough are we talking?”

  “Nothing like that,” I said. “She was just in a slump, and to be honest it was all my fault, so if I could set her up with you, and it worked out, then I’d be legit off the hook for messing up her life.”

  “Kate . . .”

  “Chloe,” I corrected.

  “Were you planning to fix me up with her all along?”

  “Yes.”

  “Doesn’t that break some kind of Internet dating etiquette?”

  “If you end up liking her, what difference would it make?”

  “I’m not interested, but thank you.”

  “A few years ago,” I began, knowing that this man was far too polite to walk out on me, “I introduced Kate to my cousin, and it didn’t work out.”

  “Then maybe you should stay out of the matchmaking business.”

  “No—I didn’t say I set her up with him. I introduced them the way you have to introduce two people when you know them both and they don’t know each other. I never meant for them to get together. But they did, and it was a catastrophe, and now I want a chance to set her up with someone for real. It’s kind of a long story.”

  “I need to get back to the hospital.”

  “My cousin, Robert, he’s a very judgmental, critical person, and Kate is open and understanding, and I just didn’t think they made any sense together. But next thing you know, Kate’s moving to France to live with him. She seemed really happy, so I was just hoping he would make himself worthy of her. Can I buy you another cup of coffee?”

  “I have to go.”

  “The day before she was leaving New York for good, Robert called me from Paris, and he told me he wants to end it with her. He doesn’t see it working out between them, he can’t commit, he wants out. So I asked him if he’d been drinking, and he said yes. So I said, ‘Just go to sleep. You’re being a dick for no reason, as usual.’ What was I supposed to do?”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “You think I should have told her?” I asked.

  “How do I know? I don’t even know these people.”

  “I didn’t tell her.” I waited for a reaction, but I got nothing. “I had no idea he would do something so terrible. He wasn’t even at the airport when she got there. She called him, woke him up, and when he finally showed up, he dumped her right there in the international terminal. And then—to make matters worse—he asks her why she’s surprised to hear it. ‘Didn’t Chloe tell you before you left?’ ”

  “Okay, maybe the guy’s a jerk, but . . .”

  “You think I should have told her.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Are you even trying to meet anyone yourself? Or is this wh
ole thing a ploy?”

  I shook my head. “I’m living with someone. No one knows about him yet, so don’t tell Kate when you meet her.”

  “I didn’t say I’d meet her.”

  “You should.”

  “I think—professionally speaking—you should stop feeling responsible for what other people do.”

  “You sound just like George.”

  “Who’s George?” he asked.

  “My boyfriend.”

  “Well, I can’t speak for George, but I can tell you it’s actually a form of egotism. You’re making everything about yourself while you pretend to be thinking of others.”

  “No, not at all,” I said, feeling suddenly defensive. “I’m being a good friend. And it’s not easy given the cast of characters. I might not be responsible for Vicki’s actions, but as her friend, I have to get involved when she does something stupid.”

  “Vicki?” he asked.

  “She’s our friend who for some reason showed up at a party recently with Robert. I can’t imagine what she was thinking. I’m not even speaking to him, and somehow she thinks it’s okay to take him to a party?”

  “And she’s your problem, too?”

  “Obviously.”

  “This might be presumptuous, but I think you need to see someone about this.”

  “What’s wrong with wanting to fix things?”

  “Taken to the extreme it’s a disorder. It’s pathological egotism—you’re playing God, meddling in the affairs of mortals. You don’t trust people to do the right thing because you think you’re superior to them.”

  “This isn’t about me at all. Do you do this to all your dates? Psychoanalyze them? Because I can kind of see why you’re single.”

  “Apparently we’re not here for a date.”

  “Well, your diagnosis of me is way off. I am the least self-absorbed person you’ll ever meet. All I do is think of others. I work on behalf of the homeless. Is that egotism? I don’t think so.”