RARE
"I must say, it's the rare student who comes in here and asks for more work."Ariana smiled slightly. She rather enjoyed being deemed "rare." If only you knew my real story, she thought. "Rare" would take on a whole new meaning.
Seated in a leather chair across the desk from her new guidance counselor, Mr. Pitt, Ariana folded her hands in her lap and took a deep breath of the musty air. There were piles and piles of books all Over the tiny room, on the floor, on the desk, on top of the printer, all along the windowsill. When Ariana had first walked in, she had almost recoiled in horror at the mess. But after sitting for a few minutes and letting her eyes slide around the area as Mr. Pitt yammered away about her adjustment period and his open-door policy, she realized there was a method to the madness. Biographies and nonfiction to her right, each stack organized alphabetically by author. Mysteries
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behind her. Russian classics to her left. Early American lit next to that. African-American poetry on the windowsill. Everything had its place.
Organized chaos. She had a feeling she was going to like this man.
"Ah. Here it is." He turned his computer screen slightly so that they could both see it, and placed his glasses on his bulbous nose. His thick forearms stuck out of the rolled-up sleeves of his light blue oxford shirt, which was topped by a green sweater vest and a yellow bow tie. All the color made him seem jolly. Like an overweight elf. "I'm sorry to say that your entrance exam scores were simply not high enough to place you in honors courses. I believe the schedule you have will be challenging enough, Briana Leigh. Don't try to overextend yourself. You're at a new school, making new friends. . . . The last thing you need is more stress."
Ariana's smile tightened. She was not leaving here without a new schedule. Her entire future depended on it. Not to mention the small matter of impressing Palmer.
"No offense, Mr. Pitt, but you don't know me," she said. "The more challenged I am, the better I do. And as for the entrance exams, I'd like to retake them, please."
The man blinked behind his thick glasses. "Retake the entrance exams."
"Yes. I was going through a horrible breakup when I took them the first time," Ariana lied smoothly, wrapping her hands around her knees. She inadvertently kicked the plastic bags full of Atherton-Pryce
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Hall uniform pieces and bit the inside of her cheek. All she wanted to do was get this done with so she could go back to the dorm and try on her new wardrobe. Start fitting in around here. "Needless to say, I was a bit distracted."
Mr. Pitt sat back in his chair and exhaled loudly, blowing out his chubby cheeks. "Well, this is a first. You would have to take them all this week so I could have a new schedule for you before classes start a week from Tuesday."
"Done," Ariana said.
"Not so fast, Miss Covington. There are five exams. And the Welcome Week competition takes up a lot of time," he said. "Are you absolutely sure you're up for this?"
"I'll figure it out. I have to," Ariana said firmly. "These courses are not going to get me into Princeton."
Mr. Pitt smiled and sat forward again, resting his elbows on his cluttered desk, atop Briana Leigh's open file. "Ah, so Princeton is the goal, is it?"
"That's the goal," Ariana said, her heart fluttering. She had been sidetracked for a time, but that was over now. All she had to do was ace five exams this week and she'd be back on track. And maybe she'd even be placed in a few of Palmer's advanced courses, which would just be an added bonus.
He sat back, opened the top drawer of his desk, and pulled out a well-worn black baseball cap with an orange, block-letter P just above the bill. With a flourish, he placed it proudly on his head.
"I'm a Princeton man myself," he said with a grin.
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Ariana leaned forward as well, as if she and Mr. Pitt were old chums. "Then you understand."
There was an excited gleam in Mr. Pitt's eyes. Ariana could tell that he was going to take her under his wing. That she had just made it his goal to get her into Princeton as well. She officially had someone on her team. Someone who, as a Princeton alum and guidance counselor watching her progress keenly, could be very helpful.
"We'll start tomorrow at eight a.m. with your history exam," Mr. Pitt said. "There's an examination room down the hall from here. Room one-ten. I'll be proctoring, so if you don't show up, it's me you'll have to answer to."
"I'll be there," Ariana replied happily. She stood up and grabbed her bags, smoothing her dress down as she turned toward the door.
"Oh, Miss Covington. One more thing," Mr. Pitt said, removing the hat. "There was a problem with your enrollment form."
Ariana paused. "A problem?"
"Yes. Every stude
nt at Atherton-Pryce Hall is required to participate in a team sport," Mr. Pitt said, looking down at the papers inside the open folder before him. "You didn't specify a sport."