Page 64 of On the Bright Side
What do other students usually take? Probably some math or science requirements. Either way, I don’t know what I want to study in college yet. I might as well just be honest about why I’m asking.
“I’m trying to get a job in their library, but you need to have a student ID. Since I’m going there next fall anyway, I wanted to see if there was a way to start earlier.”
Ms. Lily moves the mouse around to conduct another search on her computer. “Your algebra grades are decent. There’s a chance we could switch you over to the ACC credit course after the semester break if you passed a placement test. Would you like me to ask the instructor if we could try that?”
“Yes, please!” I’ve never been this excited to cram for a math test in my entire life. But my plan is working. “When could I do that?”
“I’ll send you an email once I know if we can arrange it.”
“Thank you. Would I get student registration, like, right away so I can apply for the job?”
“Yes, if it all goes well, I think you’d be able to get set up with that soon.”
After leaving the guidance counselor’s office, Kim sticks with me for the rest of the period since there’s only a few minutes left before my next class. She takes the seat in study hall where Jackson usually is.
“Where’s your friend?” she asks. She’s not usually one to make any personal small talk, unlike Pamela.
“Out sick.”
“Sorry about that. I hope he’s better soon.”
“Me too.”
I send a text, unsure if he’s been getting my messages.
ELLIE:
Hope things are going all right.
If he were here, I’d be gushing over my plan. Things are in motion. If all goes well, I’ll not only be able to move into the house, but I’ll be officially enrolled at ACC, cementing my plans for the fall. Kayla hasn’t confirmed yet, but I hope she’ll be on board and we can split costs. This could really work.
Chapter Thirty-four
Jackson
I adjust thehospital bed so that I can sit upright. I’m not sure how long the MRI results are supposed to take, but we’ve been waiting most of the day. I don’t bother looking at my phone. Mom and Dad trade off turns between the more-comfortable tan sofa and the chair in the corner. They’re trying to act calm so they don’t stress me out any more than I already am, waiting for what’s sure to be life-changing news.
I test my sensations, poking my numb arm and wiggling my toes. Everything feels off. And my eye. My freaking eye, where my vision is wonky and I feel like I got punched in the socket. What’s making all this happen?
Finally, the attending doctor comes back. My parents lean forward anxiously. I turn my head to look but can’t bring myself to make eye contact with the physician as she tells me, “The MRI results doindicate demyelination. We’ve got a neurologist coming by early tomorrow morning to review with you further.”
What on earth doesdemyelinationmean?
Mom jumps into action. “Is it on his portal? Can we review the results ourselves?”
“Yes, it should be up there soon if it isn’t already.”
After fielding a few more logistics questions from my parents, the doctor leaves, and my mom whips open her laptop. “What’s your password?” she asks me.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around what just happened. “For what?”
“The health portal. Since you’re eighteen, I can’t access your information through my account anymore.”
“I’ve never used a portal or made a login.” Why couldn’t this have all happened when I was seventeen and my parents could do everything for me?
Mom figures out a way to set up my account anyway.
I turn to my dad and ask, “Can you google—”
