Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s been a month since my panic attack at soccer practice, and I’ve settled into a better routine, regular sleep, actual meals, and conversations about how I’m feeling instead of just powering through everything.
The biggest change has been my nightly video calls with Emma.
What started as check-ins about her potential move to California has evolved into the kind of sister relationship I never knew I was missing.
We talk about everything—school drama, college, the books we’re reading, the shows we’re binge-watching.
Sometimes Jeremy joins the calls, and those conversations feel increasingly natural, like we’re building something real instead of just trying to fill in eighteen years of blanks.
“I officially submitted my application for early admission to your school,” Emma announces during our Wednesday night call.
She’s sitting in what appears to be her bedroom, wearing a Michigan State sweatshirt and looking both excited and nervous.
“Dad talked to the principal today, and if everything goes through, I could start second semester.”
“That’s only two months away,” I say, trying to process the timeline. “Are you ready for that?”
“More than ready. Mom and I had another fight yesterday about college visits. She wants me to only look at schools within a three-hour drive of home, and I told her I’m considering UC San Diego and UC Santa Barbara.”
“How did that go over?”
“About as well as you’d expect. Lots of comments about family loyalty and not abandoning the people who raised me.” Emma adjusts her laptop camera. “But Dad backed me up. He said I should explore all my options, including California schools.”
“Where would you live?”
“That’s the thing. I’m ready to leave most of this behind. My friends here don’t really understand why I’d want to build a relationship with my half sister anyway. They think it’s weird that I’m so invested in getting to know you.”
The casual way she says “half sister” makes me smile. We’ve moved past the awkwardness of defining our relationship and into simply being sisters, with all the complexity that entails.
“Mom and Robert are totally on board with you staying here,” I tell her. “Mom’s already talking about converting the guest room into a proper bedroom if you decide to make the move permanent.”
“Really? She wouldn’t mind having another teenager in the house?”
“She’s excited about it, I think she’s become a bit more laid back about Jeremy too actually. I think she likes the idea of being able to mother someone who actually needs guidance instead of me, who argues with everything she suggests.”
Emma laughs. “I promise to be appropriately grateful for mothering.”
“Don’t promise that. Part of being a teenager is arguing with parental guidance. It’s basically required.”
After we hang up, I lie in bed thinking about how different life will be in two months if Emma actually makes the move.
She’ll be here every day, not just during phone calls.
We’ll eat breakfast together, complain about homework, fight over bathroom time.
Normal sister things that feel both exciting and slightly overwhelming.
My phone buzzes with a text from Derek: “Early practice tomorrow. Want me to pick you up so you don’t have to drive when you’re half asleep?”
Me: “Yes please. You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
Derek: “I know. See you at 6:30.”
Maya and I claim our usual table while Derek gets stuck in the sandwich line behind what appears to be the entire junior class.
“So I’ve been thinking,” Maya says, unwrapping her turkey and avocado sandwich with the precision of someone who’s perfected the art of cafeteria eating. “We should plan another trip to Catalina. Not for school, just for fun.”
“Sounds fun, when are you thinking?”
“Spring break, maybe? We could rent one of those Airbnbs near Avalon, spend a few days just hanging out on the beach, snorkeling without having to take notes about marine ecosystems.”
The Catalina trip in October was amazing, but it was also structured and educational. The thought of going back just to enjoy the island sounds perfect.
“That sounds incredible. Derek sure wouldn’t mind it.”
“He talks about that kelp forest dive like it was a religious experience. Of course he’d want to go back.”
Derek appears at our table with his lunch tray, looking slightly frazzled from the sandwich line ordeal. “What are we talking about?”
“Catalina trip for spring break,” I tell him. “Just for fun this time, not for marine biology credit.”
His face lights up immediately. “I’m in. When do we leave?”
“We haven’t planned anything yet,” Maya laughs. “But I’ll take that enthusiasm as a yes vote.”
“Definitely a yes vote. We could rent snorkel gear and explore more of the kelp forest, maybe try some of the hiking trails we didn’t have time for during the school trip.”
“And eat at actual restaurants instead of cafeteria food,” Maya adds. “I saw some amazing places in Avalon when we were there.”
“Plus Emma might be living here by then,” I say. “She could come with us.”
“That would be perfect. She can see more of California, and we can all hang out without the pressure of family visits.”
“Speaking of Emma,” Maya says, “you guys get along okay?
“Really well, actually. She also may stay with us when she moves here.”
“That’s good.”
Derek steals one of my apple slices, a habit he’s developed over the past few weeks. “How are you feeling about it? Excited? Nervous?”
“Both. Change is a bit scary though.”
“Change isn’t always bad,” Maya observes. “Sometimes it makes things better.”
“That’s very wise for someone who rearranges her bedroom furniture every three months.”
“Hey, I’m just keeping things fresh. Stagnation is the enemy of growth.”
Derek checks his phone. “Speaking of change, I should be hearing back from UC San Diego any day now. They said mid-December for early admission decisions.”
“Same with UC Santa Barbara,” I say. “It’s weird how much my whole future might change based on letters that could arrive this week.”
“Are you nervous about it?” Maya asks.
“Terrified. But also excited. It feels like everything’s about to become real instead of just hypothetical.”
“What happens if you both get into your first choices?” she continues. “San Diego and Santa Barbara aren’t that far apart.”
Derek and I exchange glances across the table.
“We’d figure it out,” Derek says carefully. “It’s not like we’d be on opposite coasts.”
“Two hours apart,” I add. “Definitely manageable.”
“Plus there are other UC schools,” he says. “If one of us doesn’t get into our first choice, there are backup options that would keep us in the same general area.”
Maya nods approvingly. “I like that you’re both being realistic about long-distance logistics instead of just assuming everything will work out magically.”
“We’ve learned some things about planning ahead,” I say.
Soccer practice runs long because Coach Martinez wants to work on conditioning before winter break.
By the time I’m showered, changed, and driving home, it’s already past five p.m. and the December sun is setting behind the coastal mountains.
The air has that crisp quality that California gets in winter, not cold, exactly, but fresh and clean in a way that makes you want to drive with the windows down.
I pull into our driveway and notice the mail truck just finishing its rounds on our street. Perfect timing. I grab my soccer bag from the trunk and walk to the mailbox, expecting the usual collection of bills, catalogs, and junk mail.
But there, sandwiched between a credit card offer and a furniture catalog, is a large envelope with the UC Santa Barbara return address.
My heart starts racing as I stare at the envelope. Large envelope could mean acceptance; they need space for all the enrollment materials. Or it could mean nothing. Some schools send big envelopes regardless of the decision.
I carry the mail inside, the UCSB envelope feeling like it weighs ten pounds despite being just paper. Mom and Robert are in the kitchen, Mom chopping vegetables for dinner while Robert reads something on his tablet.
“How was practice?” Mom asks without looking up from her cutting board.
“Fine. Long. Coach wanted to work on conditioning.” I set the mail on the counter, the UCSB envelope on top. “I think this might be it.”
Both of them look up immediately. Mom sets down her knife, Robert closes his tablet, and suddenly the kitchen feels charged with anticipation.
“Are you going to open it?” Robert asks gently.
My hands shake as I pick up the envelope. It’s thick, which has to be a good sign. I take a deep breath and tear open the seal.
“Dear Olivia,” I read aloud, then skip ahead to the important part. “We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to the University of California, Santa Barbara for the fall semester…”
I don’t get to finish the sentence before I’m screaming at the top of my lungs—a sound of pure joy that probably carries three blocks in every direction. Mom and Robert both jump, their faces shifting from anticipation to alarm to understanding as my words register.
“I got in!” I shout, waving the letter in the air. “I got into UCSB!”
Mom reaches me first, pulling me into a hug that lifts me off my feet while Robert whoops behind us. The three of us stand in our kitchen, hugging and laughing and making enough noise that the neighbors probably think someone’s having a medical emergency.
“I’m so proud of you,” Mom says, tears streaming down her cheeks. “So incredibly proud.”
“We need to celebrate,” Robert announces. “This calls for a proper celebration dinner. Somewhere nice.”
“Can Maya and Derek come?” I ask immediately. “I want to share this with them.”
“Of course they can come,” Mom says. “Call them right now. We’ll make reservations somewhere special.”
I pull out my phone with shaking hands, my first instinct being to call Derek. But then I remember he applied for early admission too, and if his letter came today…
“Actually,” I say, “let me text them to meet us at a restaurant. I want to tell them in person.”
“Good idea,” Robert says. “Where should we go?”
“That new place downtown with the ocean view? Lighthouse Grill?”
“Perfect. I’ll call for reservations.”
As Robert makes the phone call and Mom starts putting away dinner ingredients, I text Maya and Derek:
Me
Emergency celebration dinner at Lighthouse Grill at 7 PM. Can you both make it? Something amazing happened.
Maya
OMG YES! What happened?? Are you pregnant??
Me
NOT PREGNANT. Just meet us there. You’ll see. Plus, we haven’t even had sex yet dumbass.
Derek
I’ll be there. Should I bring anything?
Me
Just yourself.
The drive to Lighthouse Grill feels like it takes forever, even though it’s only fifteen minutes from our house.
I keep rereading my acceptance letter, making sure I didn’t misunderstand something crucial.
But there it is in black and white: admitted to UC Santa Barbara with an academic scholarship that covers most of my tuition.
Lighthouse Grill sits on a bluff overlooking the harbor, with floor-to-ceiling windows that provide panoramic views of the Pacific. It’s the kind of place we usually save for special occasions—birthdays, anniversaries, major milestones. Which this definitely qualifies as.
Maya arrives first, practically bouncing as she meets us in the parking lot. “Okay, I’ve been speculating for twenty minutes and I need to know what’s going on. Did you get into college? Did Derek propose? Did Emma get approved to move here?”
“You’ll find out in two minutes,” I tell her, unable to keep the grin off my face.
Derek pulls into the parking lot just as we’re walking toward the restaurant entrance. He gets out of his car with an expression I can’t quite read, excited but also nervous, like he’s carrying his own secret.
“Table for five,” Robert tells the hostess, and we’re seated at a window table with a perfect view of the sunset painting the ocean in shades of orange and gold.
“Okay,” Maya says the moment we’re settled. “I’ve been patient long enough. What are we celebrating?”
I pull the acceptance letter from my purse, unfolding it carefully on the table. “I got into UC Santa Barbara.”
Maya’s shriek is loud enough that the couple at the next table looks over in alarm. She launches herself around the table to hug me, nearly knocking over a water glass in the process.
“I’m so proud of you!” she says, squeezing me tight. “This is amazing! When did you find out?”
“About an hour ago. I got home from practice and the letter was in the mailbox.”
Derek reaches across the table and takes my hand, his smile genuine and warm. “That’s incredible news. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I study his face, noting something in his expression that suggests he has news of his own. “Derek, did you hear anything yet?”
His smile gets wider. “Actually, yeah. I got home about thirty minutes before I came here, and my letter was waiting.”
My heart stops. “And?”
“I got into UC San Diego.”
This time it’s my turn to shriek, though I manage to keep it at a lower volume than Maya’s reaction. Derek and I both got into our first choice schools, which means we’ll be staying in California, staying relatively close to each other, and both pursuing the futures we’ve been dreaming about.
“This is the best night ever,” Maya announces, raising her water glass in a toast. “To college acceptance letters arriving on the same day.”
“To dreams coming true,” Mom adds, her voice thick with emotion.
“To the next chapter,” Robert says.
We clink glasses as the sun sets over the Pacific, and I think about how much has changed since the beginning of the school year.
Six months ago, I was a girl with more questions than answers, struggling with heart palpitations and family secrets.
Now I’m someone with a plan for the future, a sister who’s moving across the country to be near me, a boyfriend I’m crazy about, and an acceptance letter to my dream school.
The waiter comes by to take our order, and as we celebrate over dinner, I realize that all the uncertainty and anxiety of the past few months has led to this moment of perfect clarity. Everything feels like it’s falling into place exactly as it should.