Page 67 of What I Like About You

It’s true. Idoknow.

But knowing isn’t going to minimize NYU stress. It’s just not.

Mom sighs into the phone. “Ugh—I’msosorry to cut this short, but Tavi needs us for more last-minute interviews.”

“Last minute?” I ask.

“It’s our last day at Kinneret,” Dad says. “Tomorrow we’re heading to Naama.”

“It’s all in the emails.” Mom’s delivery is blasé, but I hear the disappointment.

“I’ll read them,” I promise. “I’ll answer them, too.”

“Thanks, babe. We love you!”

“Travel safe. I love you too,” I say.

We disconnect and, wow, do I wish my parents weren’t an ocean away. I wish I could have an Ari Pep Talk and Mad Reality Check every time I need it.

I wish it were enough to make me put away the practice tests.

My eyes focus on the last one I took, blurring around the 600 math score. I am a 600. That’s me. How can Inotput pressure on myself when NYU might throw my application in the rejection pile before they even read about One True Pastry? They receive a ridiculous number of applications—so many that their acceptance ratedecreasesevery year. Before I’m a person, I’m a number.

“Hal?” Gramps’s voice is behind me. He took Ollie out for breakfast this morning to give me some space to study. I didn’t even hear them come back.

I can’t look at him. “I—”

Gramps closes my laptop and tucks it under his arm. Places his other hand on my shoulder to steady me. “I think we need a day off from this.”

Gramps heads upstairs with my laptop and locks it in his room and I don’t even protest. If Dad were here, he would’ve pulled the same thing. It’s a relief, honestly. Gramps has been so refreshinglyGrampslately. Not always. He still has days where he’d rather be alone. But his concern right now? It’severything.When he returns, he goes straight to the freezer, pulling out a brand-new tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Then he pulls a bowl out of the cabinet and a metal spoon from the silverware drawer.

“Gramps, it’s not even noon,” I say.

His eyebrows raise. “It’s never too early for ice cream.”

“I don’t think that’s an actual thing.”

Gramps pauses scooping. Looks at me. “Are you rejecting ice cream?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ll stop talking.”

“Good.” Gramps pushes all my college stuff into a messy pile and takes a seat next to me at the table, placing my bowl of ice cream in front of me. “Do you have any plans today?”

I take a spoonful of ice cream. “I’m helping Autumn with her portfolio piece for film school. But that’s not until later.”

I didn’t expect to miss Le Crew while Nash and I weren’t speaking. I was so nervous returning to their lunch table after weeks of library lunches, but they acted like I’d never left. Which I’m pretty sure means they missed me too. I don’t know. I’m not exactly used to navigating these friendship feels. But Iamglad to be back.

Yesterday, I sent Autumn notes on her script, as promised,and wow, sheisbad at dialogue. But her concept is amazing—and the idea of being on a film set tonight is more exciting than I’ll ever admit out loud. My college future feels so out of my control, it’ll be nice to focus on someone else’s.

“Next Harry Potter?” Gramps asks.

I nod.

Gramps is such a Potterhead and he never even knew it. He resisted the hype even though Grams could not have been a bigger fan, but now we’ve been making our way through the movies, one each weekend. Now that he’s actually giving them a shot, he’s obsessed. We’re working our way through my boxed set and Gramps asks me a million questions, wants everyone’s origin stories, the whole nine yards.

It’s kind of adorable.

Last week, he made me take the sorting hat quiz for him.

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