CHAPTER 11

Senior year was going by faster than Miguel ever imagined it would. Between schoolwork and training for the final fight, he barely had time to breathe. It was already November and the temperatures were dropping. People had put their t-shirts and sundresses away and now wore coats and long sleeves to school. In addition, College applications were being sent out right and left. Miguel's family didn't really have enough money for college so a scholarship would be his only option and unfortunately, all of the universities he had applied to had rejected his scholarship application. Although Miguel was in the 98% percentile according to his SATs, he also missed nearly half of junior year while he was in his coma so he was missing a lot of credits. Miguel had, however, finally decided on what he wanted to study in the future. His strengths were in sciences and solving puzzles; all of the career quizzes he took pointed him in the direction of the military/government/police force but Miguel wasn't interested in putting himself in the line of fire in that way. Instead, he decided to study forensic science as he wanted to become a forensic scientist as part of the LAPD.

He had an interview at his final possibly - Stanford - the upcoming weekend and Sam was still waiting to hear back from Stanford and UCLA. They were the only two in their group who had not yet decided where to go. Driving home from school the day before his interview, Miguel felt very worried and nervous. The night before his interview, Miguel pulled into the Larusso driveway and went inside to find Sam making cookies in the kitchen. She looked up at her friend.

"Miguel, you have your interview with Stanford tomorrow. Let me to pick out something nice to wear."

Miguel rolled his eyes. As if he could forget! He was already very nervous.

"Sam, it doesn't matter to me what I wear." Miguel replied. Sam shook her head.

"First impressions are key. You know that! Your clothes are, you know…"

Miguel raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" He asked, indignantly

"Well, no offence, but they make you look like an average jock. Aisha and I went out and got some new clothes for you. They're upstairs in the guest room, go pick out something to wear."

Sam and Aisha? Miguel definitely didn't trust Sam and Aisha with his wardrobe.

"Go pick out something to wear, Miguel, just be done by eight."

"Why by 8?"

"Your hair is getting way too long and messy. You need to look nice at your interview. So I called the barber and made an appointment to get it cut. You haven't cut it in months."

"It's not even that bad!" Miguel exclaimed. "You should see Demitri's hair!"

"Well, he already knows what college he's going to. I'm not letting you go to your interview without a shorter, neater haircut."

Miguel rolled his eyes and walked up to his room. It was stressful enough as it was. The other schools he'd applied to had given him reasonable financial aid, but Stanford was the only school offering him an opportunity for a full academic scholarship. He thought he looked fine and was annoyed with his friend. He got out his phone and texted Johnny…

Miguel: Sam and Aisha bought some clothes for me to pick out for my interview... what's wrong with the clothes I already have?

Johnny texted back pretty quickly…

Johnny: They just care, Miguel.

Miguel: Sam's also making me get my hair cut…

Johnny: Good. You need it

Miguel: Not you too!

Johnny: Sorry buddy! This comes from the nicest possible place… YOU NEED A HAIRCUT!

Miguel: Lol, fine. Whatever. I'm staying the night in the Larusso house. I'll see you tomorrow after my interview

Johnny: Good luck!

Miguel: Thx

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The next day, Miguel was sitting in the Stanford admissions office, wearing the outfit Sam had picked out for him. The waiting was painful. Miguel spent most of the wait fiddling with his sleeves. Finally, an admissions representative came into the waiting room.

"Miguel Diaz?"

Miguel stood up.

"That's me."

"Hi Miguel, I'm your admissions counselor, Patrick Williams. Let's go talk in my office."

Miguel followed the counselor to his office. This guy looked like he was barely out of college himself. Had he not been an admissions counselor, Miguel wouldn't have been as scared, but knowing he was didn't make the fears go away.

"Sit down, Miguel. Want something to drink? I've got Sprite, Pepsi and grape soda."

"Sprite, please."

The counselor got a Sprite out of his refrigerator and handed it to Miguel. Then he sat down and took out his notebook.

"So, tell me about yourself, Miguel."

"Well, I grew up in Ecuador for the first 14 years of my life. I grew up in, in all honesty, not the best household. My father was a very bad man but my mom and I managed to get out. I decided then and there that I'd do whatever I could to make her proud of me. She has sacrificed so much for me and I just want to show her that I was worth it."

This wasn't totally a lie, but it was partially so, but not in the obvious way. Patrick could hear the truth in his words so he nodded.

"I see. So how have you tried to make your mom proud of you?"

"Well, becoming a better son seemed like the obvious answer. I became a more… involved person in all aspects of my life. Sure I made quite a few mistakes all along the way, but I didn't run away and deteriorate. I stayed."

The admissions man smiled.

"That's great. So I was reading your application and you said that your life was turned around by karate? What exactly happened there?"

Miguel smiled. Now he could talk about his real passion.

"Yeah, it was. When I first moved to Reseda when I was 16, I had no friends, I had just been through an extremely tough ordeal, and I then was getting bullied in school. My neighbor at the time just happened to be an ex-All Valley Karate champion. After a lot of begging, he agreed to teach me karate so I'd be able to face my bullies. Little did I realise that I wouldn't just get physically stronger and faster; I would also get a lot mentally stronger. Karate absolutely changed my life, and I know that I would not be where I am now without it."

"That sounds really cool. Now, what about your life outside? What are your friends like? What kind of relationship do you have with your family?"

"Well, like I said earlier, I'm really close with my mom and I do have quite a few friends but, as sad as this might sound, my best friend in the world is my Karate Instructor. His name is Johnny Lawrence and he basically helped pull me out of the pits not once, but three times. First of all, he taught me karate in the first place, as I mentioned. Then, after I got severely injured, it was him who was in charge of helping me with my rehab and he helped me recover from lower body paralysis in literally 6 months. And then the third time was a couple of months ago. After my injury, my family couldn't afford to live here anymore so I was about to move back to Ecuador. Johnny, however, offered to become my legal guardian for the year and let me live with him while my mom and grandma moved back to Ecuador so I would get the opportunities here that I wouldn't get there. And you asked about my friends? Well, my three best friends in the world are all part of my karate group as well. I can talk to all of these people I talked about about anything. I never have to worry about what they are going to say or do because I know they'll be there for me. If it's three in the morning, they'll still be willing to answer my call. They accept me, they understand me and they love me for who I am. They make me a better person."

"We have your transcripts here. Keeping with what you told me, you had pretty good grades in your freshman and sophomore years. You sort of dropped in your junior year because of abysmal attendance. You got pretty low grades that year, but you've improved drastically since. You made the honor roll last semester, I see. And your SAT scores were extremely impressive. 98th percentile. I must say, that is really extraordinary."

"Again, I owe that to my friends. They helped me become motivated to be a better student. We spent hours preparing for the SATs."

"Right. And one more thing. I see here that you tended to score extremely high grades in science and logic related subjects, but lower in creative arts. And it says here that you want to study forensic sciences. Why's that?"

"Well, I don't mean to brag or anything but I've always been pretty good at biology, but it's more than that. I don't want to become a forensic scientist to put bad guys behind bars. I want to become a forensic scientist to help the victims. The innocents. Help their families rest a little easier too."

"OK, I think I've got all I need. Thank you, Miguel. I'll make a recommendation to the scholarship committee. You should hear back within two to four weeks."

"Okay, thank you."