to notice me. My grades, as stellar as they are, are not enough to make me stand out in the busy crowd of America’s elite. These kids’ parents are alumni who purchase new wings in different corners of the campus to guarantee admission. My parents graduated from a state college. I can’t buy my way in, so I have to depend on my hard work to make it. No wonder no one notices me, right? The makeout bandits are too busy to see me approach their compromising position, daydreaming about the what-ifs of my life. "Excuse me," I mumble as I approach the door. They cling to each other even though I’m
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