This Is Not a Personal Statement by Tracy Badua

Author:Tracy Badua
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

I grab a sugary energy drink from the vending machine outside of the bio auditorium. It’s as hungry for my scarce quarters as I am for caffeine.

Energized from the gaming club meeting, I’d stayed up too late last night brainstorming ideas for my personal statement. Then I retooled my seven-part plan spreadsheet based on what I’ve learned about Delmont and the people here.

As I wait for the vending machine to deliver me my energy drink, I drum my fingers against my legs, the motion much like when I typed up Claire’s info and the gaming club notes at one in the morning. Starting off yet another promising friendship on a lie grates me enough, but trying to explore an activity and join a community that I actually really like? It’s starting to feel like some of the lying I’m doing is to myself. Without any answers to my post-midnight musings, I’d clicked to another tab and mulled over some of the unforeseen scenarios that have reared their heads instead.

One of the most concerning is my lack of money. To survive on campus—or anywhere, really—I’m going to need to eat, and I’d prefer not to rely on the fragile relationships I’ve started cultivating for this basic, recurring need. More lies mean more of this guilt that’s been seeping into edges of my conscience during quiet moments lately. They also mean more opportunities to get caught.

That fear spurred me to then spend another hour perfecting my employment forms for the Bubble and Bean. The sooner I get these in, the sooner I can start work.

Mimicking my parents’ signatures was the easy part. Coming up with a fake school contact was a little trickier: I set up a phone number on a free online service and route the calls to my cell phone. If Frank wanted to check up on my details, he’d reach me and not a school administrator, and I’d be ready for him.

I dropped off my paperwork on the way to bio this morning, and the long walk to class gave time for my frustration with my financial situation to teeter into more guilt. People have real hardships that prevent them from going to exorbitantly priced colleges like Delmont. My parents have not only saved enough for a private university education for me, but for medical school too. Unfortunately, there’s no way for me to access any of it without making myself part of Delmont’s next incoming class.

I sip at my newly purchased energy drink and let the bubble-gum-flavored sugar rinse away the bitterness of my night.

Brand and Tessa are seated by the time I make my way down the auditorium aisle. We barely have time to exchange hellos before the professor starts talking.

“The TAs are passing out the quizzes now. You’ll have fifteen minutes.”

I cast a simulation of a nervous smile at Tessa. I know her test anxiety runs deep. A line of light peeked out from under her door at three in the morning, when I’ve scheduled my showers so I’m not running into the RA.

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