By Sunday afternoon, Alex had completely taken over Gael's dining table.
Laptops.
Application folders.
Three different highlighters.
Coffee cups accumulating like evidence of academic decline.
"You know," Gael said while walking into the kitchen, "most people study at libraries."
Alex didn't look up from her laptop.
"Libraries contain other people."
"And people are annoying?"
"Exactly."
Honestly, she'd started spending more ti at the new house naturally over the past week.
Not dramatically.
Just:
late study sessions,
quiet afternoons,
escaping Luke's noise,
better coffee.
The gate made it effortless.
And unlike Haley, who filled rooms emotionally the second she entered them—
Alex settled into spaces quietly.
Until suddenly her presence just felt normal.
Gael set another coffee beside her while glancing toward the essay on the laptop screen.
"Still Stanford?"
Alex sighed dramatically.
"Still Stanford."
"What's the problem?"
She leaned back in the chair finally.
"I hate application essays." Her expression tightened slightly. "They all want so fake inspirational life story."
"That sounds accurate."
"No, seriously." Alex gestured toward the screen. "Apparently seventeen-year-olds are supposed to summarize their identity in six hundred emotionally marketable words."
Fair criticism.
Gael sat across from her while she rubbed tiredly at her forehead.
Then:
"What did you write about?"
Alex hesitated.
"Pressure," she admitted eventually.
She looked toward the screen again.
"I wrote about being smart becoming my personality by accident."
That sounded uncomfortably honest.
Gael stayed quiet.
Because the vulnerability in the sentence mattered more than the essay itself.
Alex noticed the silence and laughed softly once.
"See? That reaction is exactly why I hate this."
"What reaction?"
"The one where people suddenly look sad for ."
"That sounds defensive."
"I am experienced."
The answer ca too fast.
Underneath Alex's ambition lived sothing she almost never admitted openly:
exhaustion.
Not from school.
From expectation.
Then she looked toward him more carefully.
"You know what the weird part is?"
Gael narrowed his eyes imdiately.
Alex groaned.
"Oh my God, Haley infected my speech patterns too."
"That's a public health issue."
She smiled despite herself before continuing.
"The weird part is that I don't even know if Stanford matters anymore." She looked back at the screen. "I just know I've wanted it for so long that stopping feels impossible."
Suddenly, this wasn't about achievent.
It was about identity.
"What if you get in and hate it?" Gael asked calmly.
Alex stared at him.
"That's a horrifying sentence."
"That's not an answer."
"No, seriously." She closed the laptop halfway. "Do you understand how offensive that possibility is?"
He laughed quietly while she shook her head.
But underneath the sarcasm, the fear stayed there.
Real fear.
Not failing to get accepted.
Failing after succeeding.
Then footsteps crossed through the gate outside.
Haley appeared in the kitchen carrying shopping bags and imdiate chaos.
"There you both are."
Alex looked instantly suspicious.
"That tone ans trouble."
"That tone ans clothes."
"Sa thing."
Haley dropped the bags dramatically onto the table before noticing the essay docunts again.
"Oh no. College sadness."
"That's not a category," Alex muttered.
"It absolutely is."
Then Haley looked toward Gael.
"Good news. I found a branding internship application."
Interesting shift.
A real one this ti.
Not vague dreaming.
Alex noticed imdiately too.
And for the first ti in a while—
instead of sounding dismissive—
she sounded genuinely interested.
"Wait. Actually?"
Haley grinned.
"Actually actually."
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