4:59. My heart raced. Butterflies shot up my stomach. My parents peered over my shoulder telling me to open my Stanford application. The clock turned. 5:00. It was time.
“Dear Charlie,” it read, “we regret to inform you that we can not offer you admission...”
I couldn’t finish the entire letter before I started crying. In just a matter of seconds, my dream to attend my father’s alma mater had been crushed. I quickly rushed up to my room and sat in silence, feeling like a failure and thinking all hope was lost.
I’ll be honest, Stanford was a reach.