THE LETTER A

Kim stared at the acceptance letter she’d taped to the window shade in her bedroom.  The stream of daylight seeped through the crisp white paper as if the letter were an expensive lampshade.

Kim had navigated the clunky online application form until 11:53 pm on December 1, the official deadline, rechecking every part of the form, making sure it looked perfect.  Her friend Octavia had turned her lip just a bit when Kim told her she had applied to Darnell.  The stiffness of her smile exposed her opinion that Kim shouldn’t have wasted her time.  Weeks later, touching the pile of rejection letters from other schools, filed in a red folder at the corner of Kim’s desk, Kim remembered that smile.

“It’s a thick one,” Madeline had said when the letter had arrived.  Kim could hear the relief in her stepmother’s voice.

Only when Kim started rummaging through the tedious paperwork that she noticed the letter A.  Kimberly A. Ward.  It must be a typo, she thought, because her middle name was Nancy.  She found the same initial printed on two other forms. Maybe it was just some clerical error.  But the unexpected acceptance still felt fragile, like a delicate vase in someone else’s home.

It took five tries to reach the Admissions Office.  A woman named Mrs. Marshall said she would be happy to help her.

“Ward,” Kim said.  “Kimberly Ward.”

“Are you Kimberly A. Ward, or Kimberly N. Ward?”

“N,” she said. Her palms were so damp that the receiver slipped out of her hand

“I’m very sorry,” the woman said. 

Kim stared at the stack of forms that belonged to Kimberly A., who had probably filed her rejection letter in her own red folder at the corner of her desk.  Perhaps she had already been accepted to Harvard or Yale and didn’t give Darnell a second thought.  Or perhaps Darnell had been Kimberly A.’s dream.  Now she’d have to settle for second best. 

Unless.

Kim picked up the yellow matriculation card and ran her finger over the letter A.  She picked up her blue pen and started to fill out the form.  Suddenly a breeze pushed through the open window, and the shade snapped up.  The acceptance letter glided to the floor behind her. 

Kim looked over her shoulder.  As she would every day for the next four years.