The college application process was a slow, grinding, and deeply stressful affair. It was a season of standardized tests, of personal essays, of long, complicated financial aid forms. It was a constant, low-grade hum of anxiety that underscored everything they did.
But they did it together.
Their lunch table became a de facto college counseling center. Jake, with his obsessive, data-driven mind, created a massive, color-coded spreadsheet that tracked every single application deadline, every required essay, every supplemental form.
"Okay, so according to my projections," he would say, peering at his laptop screen, "Ruby and I have a seventy-three percent chance of getting into the state university's early admission program. Kofi, your odds are slightly lower, due to your… let's call it a 'less-than-stellar' sophomore year GPA."
"Thanks, Jake," Kofi would say, his voice a flat, deadpan monotone. "That's very encouraging."
