"When you first came to me

I wasn't sure what kind of game it would be

But surprise of surprises

You were so kind to me"

-The Association, So Kind to Me

As she sat in front of her mirror brushing her long black hair, Robin heard a knock on her bedroom door.

"Robin? Can I come in?"

She was about to tell her mother no, but she relented. She didn't want her mother to think she was completely ignoring her. Not to mention, she'd only have to talk to her mother for a few minutes as she needed to leave for school soon.

"Sure."

Robin continued to stare absentmindedly into the mirror as her mother entered her room and stood behind her.

"How are you feeling about your meeting with the guidance counselor today?"

"Good."

"You must be so excited, talking about your plans for the future and going to college."

"Yep, I am."

"Well, that's great. I'm so happy for you, dear. You'll be speaking with her about Stanford of course, I know you've been wanting to go for as long as I can remember."

"Uh huh," Robin answered dully, continuing to brush her hair.

How could her mother not get the hint that she didn't want to talk, that she couldn't possibly let herself talk? Over two years had passed, and though Robin did care for her, she couldn't let herself love her. Didn't her mother get that?

Robin caught her mother's eye in the reflection of the mirror.

She looked nothing like her: Norma Hayes was rail-thin, with very fair hair and eyes. She had a permanently kind face, even if she wasn't smiling. She was mild-mannered and didn't draw attention to herself, although she was courteous to others. She had a button-like nose—a demure nose. Her mother was beautiful, and more importantly, she was a good person. Robin felt a familiar twinge of guilt and looked away.

She suddenly felt her mother's hand lightly touch her head and stroke her hair.

"You look just like your father, Robin. He would be so proud of you—"

Robin immediately leapt up and knocked her mother's hand away.

"Don't say that!"

Blood boiling, Robin turned away from her mother and began jamming her books into her backpack. She needed to get out of there—and quick.

"I'm sorry, Robin," Norma Hayes said forlornly.

"I have to get to school," Robin replied curtly, flinging her backpack over her shoulder and beginning to rush out of the room.

"But what about your lunch?" her mother called after her.

"Whatever, it's fine!"

It wasn't fine.

What anger she was feeling was multiplied by the intense hunger ravaging her stomach. Lunch period had come and gone—there was no way she was going to stand in an overcrowded line for a pile of slop. And she certainly wasn't going to risk getting another invitation to sit with Teddy Duchamp in the cafeteria. She didn't know what to make of that weird feeling she experienced around him, and she didn't want that to distract her from her meeting Mrs. Bradbury later.

But it was almost the end of 5th period, and she couldn't think or concentrate on anything but how starving she was. And she had two more classes to go before the meeting at 3.

Suddenly, Robin's stomach growled loudly, causing several students to look her way and start snickering. Assholes.

The bell rang a few minutes later, signaling the end of 5th period, but Robin remained seated at her desk. She was too tired and weak to fight against the horde of students making their way out of the door. After everyone filed out of the room, she closed her eyes and let out a groan, willing herself to get up.

"You okay?"

Robin's eyes flew open to reveal Chris Chambers leaning over her. He was a little too close for comfort, but she didn't have the energy to tell him to back off. She simply blinked at him.

"I'm fine."

Chris shook his head at her with a small smile.

"Damn, you're a bad liar."

She couldn't retort, but she eyed him with annoyance as he began to dig through his backpack. When he pulled out a bag of Ruffles potato chips, the irritation immediately vanished.

"Here."

Chris placed the bag on her desk, and her hunger won out against her pride. Robin quickly tore the bag open and stuffed handful after handful of potato chips into her mouth. Before she knew it, she had finished it, crumbs and all.

"Oh my god," Robin sighed, fulfilled, "Thank you."

"No problem," Chris replied with a grin, "I could pretty much feel the ground shake from your stomach growling, so I figured you needed it."

"Ha-ha-ha," Robin said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "Yeah, I guess I needed it. I was ravenous."

"Ravenous, huh?" Chris asked curiously, "Strong word. Have you not eaten today?"

Robin felt her face flush with embarrassment.

"I...no."

She shifted her gaze downward to avoid looking him in the eye.

"Robin, it's okay. You don't need to feel ashamed about it. Being hungry at school is rough."

He said it as if he knew what it was like. Robin looked back up at him.

She was somewhat shocked: she knew that the Chambers family was poor, but she didn't realize that they sometimes came to school hungry. She felt concern bubble to the surface.

"It really is. This is my first time," Robin admitted quietly, "I can't imagine what it's like to deal with this regularly."

Chris looked taken aback but only for a second. He then gave her a hesitant smile.

"Well, let me give you a tip, in case it happens again: make sure you've got an emergency bag of your favorite chips stashed in your backpack."

Robin returned his smile, but it faded. So that must mean—

"Did you really just let me eat your only bag of chips?!" Robin asked Chris incredulously, "Why the hell did you give them to me?!"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Because you needed them. You were hungry," Chris answered simply.

"But what about you?!"

"It's fine. I can get some more."

Robin stared at Chris in disbelief. How could he have just given his food away, especially when it seemed like food wasn't always guaranteed to him?

Suddenly, the bell rang for the start of 6th period.

"Shit, I've gotta go. Oh by the way Robin, I can't make the Vietnam forum today," Chris informed her, "I'm sorry, I should have let you know sooner."

"Oh, um, it's okay," she replied sheepishly as she got to her feet, "I can't do it either."

She didn't realize that he had planned to continue coming to the forum. Robin felt a pang of guilt for not letting him know that it would be canceled. They both walked towards the exit together.

"Oh okay, that works out then. I'll talk to you later."

Robin didn't know just how soon "later" would be.

She had left her last class of the day a little early so she would be on time for her meeting with Mrs. Bradbury at 3. She stood right outside the office, her stomach in knots. This was finally the start of her applying to Stanford—and getting the hell out of Castle Rock. This was the beginning of the rest of her life. Suddenly, she heard the sounds of people talking coming from the other side of the door.

"These other colleges...UCLA, USC...while your grades are certainly strong, I'm just worried they won't be a good fit for you and your...circumstances."

"So where do you think would be a good fit for me and my circumstances?"

It was Chris's voice, and he sounded frustrated. She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop, but curiosity—and her competitive nature—got the better of her.

"Watch your tone, Mr. Chambers. Put in applications for some of the in-state schools. You'll have a better chance of getting in, and you may actually be able to go."

"I—okay. Yes ma'am."

"Okay. Just to clarify, that would be University of Oregon, Oregon State, Portland State, University of Portland, and Oregon State—Cascades."

"Those sound good."

"This is a solid list of schools for you, Mr. Chambers. You should be able to get into at least one of those."

Robin furrowed her brow. Chris was only applying to in-state schools when he had an almost near perfect GPA? And "at least one of those?" He could get accepted into all of them easily. He was far and away the best student at the school—after her, of course. So why was he being discouraged from applying anywhere else?

The door then opened, and Chris stepped out. He looked alarmed by her presence. She wondered if he realized that she had overheard his conversation with Mrs. Bradbury.

"Hey again," Chris greeted. His tone didn't give anything away. "You have your meeting with Mrs. Bradbury too?"

"Yeah, I'm up now."

"Good luck, it'll go great."

"Thanks," Robin replied.

She pushed her thoughts about Chris and his college plans from her mind: it was time to focus on her own. She stepped around him, entered Mrs. Bradbury's office, and closed the door behind her.

"Hello, Robin," Mrs. Bradbury greeted from behind her desk, "Please sit down."

Robin did as she was told, her heart pounding.

"I have been looking forward to meeting with you about your college applications for a long time," Mrs. Bradbury confessed, "Maybe since your SAT scores came in last semester. I am beyond excited for you."

"Thank you! I'm really excited too."

"With those scores and your GPA, there's so many places you could go," Mrs. Bradbury continued on, "I can't wait to hear all of the schools you plan on applying to."

All of the schools?

"Well Mrs. Bradbury, there's just one," Robin informed her proudly, "I'll be going to Stanford University."

Mrs. Bradbury gave her a disconcerting look.

"Just...one?"

"Yes. Stanford," Robin repeated emphatically.

There was a long pause. Robin could feel her heart beating out of her chest.

"Well, Robin, Stanford is a great choice. It's an impeccable school, as everyone knows…" Mrs. Bradbury said hesitantly.

"But what?" Robin challenged, aggravation rising dangerously, "I know it's coming, just say it."

"It's one of the top colleges in the nation, and it's probably the best school in the region," Mrs. Bradbury explained weakly, "It's incredibly difficult to get into."

"I know that. That's why I want to go. I have to go. I can do it, I can get in. I know I can."

Robin didn't like hearing the desperation in her voice, but one conversation with Castle Rock High's guidance counselor wasn't going to get in the way of her dream. Her father's dream.

"Okay, okay," Mrs. Bradbury sighed, "I can tell how much you want to go there. And it's not to say that you don't have a chance of getting in, because you do. It's just going to be hard. Your test scores and GPA are up to standard, and I know Mrs. Turner has already written you a recommendation letter."

"Yes! Yes, she has."

"You're going to have to write an outstanding personal essay, and I would encourage you to keep up with tutoring Mr. Duchamp so that can be placed on your application as well."

"Okay, I can do both of those things," Robin agreed eagerly, "I can do it! Thank you Mrs. Bradbury, I appreciate all the pointers."

"Robin...as exciting as the prospect of you going to Stanford is, I do think you should consider applying to some other universities."

Her face fell.

"Like where?"

"Well, you could apply to UC Berkeley, that's in San Francisco. There's also USC, Claremont McKenna—"

"No," Robin said firmly, "No other schools in California. Just Stanford."

"Robin, I think you need to at least have a safety school. A place where we can feel confident about you being accepted."

"I'm pretty confident about Stanford."

"Please, Robin. Just apply to an in-state school. You're guaranteed acceptance, maybe even a full ride. You wouldn't have to pay anything."

Robin felt insulted by the suggestion, but she was also hit with a sudden wave of anxiety. She had never considered the possibility that she wouldn't get into Stanford. If they told her no, wouldn't it be better to go to school for free than not to go at all?

"Fine," Robin agreed begrudgingly, "Where?"

"How about University of Portland? It's one of the best schools in the state."

"Okay. Sure."

"Excellent, Robin. Good. We'll submit an application to University of Portland as your backup, and we will work hard on your Stanford application and have our fingers crossed for the best."

"Sounds...great."

While she didn't like the fact that Mrs. Bradbury doubted her chances of getting into Stanford, this plan of applying to University of Portland seemed to appease her.

"Don't forget: write a stellar personal essay. And keep tutoring Teddy Duchamp—no matter what he does or says."

Robin guessed that everyone in the whole school must've thought Teddy was trouble.

"Will do."

With nervousness pulsing through her, she walked out of Mrs. Bradbury's office. She had expected to feel more excited after the meeting, but she found herself feeling somewhat deflated.

As she entered the hallway, her eyes fell upon Diane, who was fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, and—to her surprise—Chris.

"Hey, how'd it go?" he asked.

"It went okay...?" Robin answered, confused by his presence, "What are you still doing here?"

"I figured you might want someone to walk you home."

"What? No," she refused, annoyed, "I don't need anybody to walk with me. I can do it myself, clearly."

Diane snorted, and Robin glared at her. Just as she was about to say something, Mrs. Bradbury poked her head outside of her office.

"Diane, it's time for your meeting. Come on in, now."

As Diane passed Robin, the two met each other's eyes, and Robin could see disappointment and fear all over Diane's face. She hesitated, overcome with a sudden urge to grab her old friend's hand, but the moment passed. Diane entered the office, the door closing behind her.

Robin looked up at Chris, who was staring at her. Again, it felt like he was trying to figure out what she was thinking, and it made her feel uneasy. She touched the bump in her nose.

"So...can I walk you home?"

Robin sighed, exasperated.

"Fine."