Free Early Decision by Lacy Crawford

surprising, and a bit flattering, that Michelle had called over the Labor Day holiday to discuss a student. The telephone had set Anne’s heart jumping: her apartment was silent, save for the whirring air conditioner and the occasional clink of Mitchell’s tags. Martin had deemed it too costly to travel to Chicago for the long weekend, and she had begged off moldering with her parents in the dog-day burbs using the excuse of her students, even though they were all taking the weekend off.
    â€œI think we have a ringer this year,” Michelle said. “Am I disturbing you?”
    â€œNo,” Anne replied. “Tell me.”
    â€œI don’t know, but I think she can reach really high. She’s easily the strongest student in the grade and has been since she arrived as a sophomore. Guatemalan. Pretty sure her family’s illegal—I think only Mom is here. Dad may be back there, or maybe no dad. She’s very shy. Doesn’t get into trouble, so no one ever really asks. She’s below the radar, is the thing, and I just think we’re going to have to figure out how to thread this needle for her.”
    â€œDoes she have the ACTs yet?”
    â€œYes, took them this spring. No prep at all. Composite 34.”
    â€œWow.”
    â€œYeah, I know, right? But the family thing’s going to be a hurdle. Just getting the ACT fee waiver was hell. And talking the school into pulling together all the documentation—well, I’ll deal with all of that, but we’re going to have to find a way to get the FAFSA forms done, and I don’t know how the family will feel about any of this. Especially if I’m right about her status.”
    â€œWhat does financial aid look like for her?” asked Anne. She’d only encountered the FAFSA forms twice, both times in cases of incendiary divorces. Her students were the full-tuition-paying sort, the pack mules of university budgeting.
    â€œThere won’t be any contribution at all on her part, I don’t think. Can’t be. It would be too much for the family—they’d say no right off the bat. She’ll have to work her tail off wherever she goes, in the dining hall or something, but we need scholarships, really big ones.”
    â€œI guess we need to research those?”
    â€œActually, at this point, I think we need to go to the top. We need a trustee. Someone who’ll advocate and speed things up. I was thinking Princeton, naturally, but Cristina’s got this thing for Duke.”
    Anne’s breath caught in her throat. “Why?”
    â€œI think because of the basketball team, oddly enough. She’s got a brother, and uncles, or cousins or something, and they’re all way into college hoops. So they’re huge Duke fans, and I think she thinks that’s the way she’ll convince them she can go.”
    â€œDoubt the Tigers have the same effect.”
    â€œNo. Anyway, I just wanted to give you the heads-up. She’ll be there on Saturday. Cristina Castello. Have a look and see what you see. And then let’s confer on this. I don’t know anyone. I was thinking I could throw it open, post to the list serves—”
    â€œLet me think about it,” Anne interrupted. “I might know someone.”
    â€œReally? Seriously?”
    â€œMight. Maybe. Let me look into it.”
    â€œOh, Anne, that would be amazing. I knew I should call you, with all your rich-folks connections. Okay. So let me know.”
    By Saturday morning, however, Anne was feeling she’d been reckless mentioning her possible lead. Gideon Blanchard was hardly a friend, and, the more she reflected on it, the more it seemed wrong to ask him to advocate on behalf of a student who would be applying for his daughter’s class. Maybe if Sadie were a year above or behind, but the same admissions cycle? Not that the girls would be direct competitors in the process itself. Still something seemed