The person holding her letter turned out to be Myffi, and that was almost better for Marissa. The two didn’t know each other very well. If it was a rejection - well, she wouldn’t be letting Myffi down, at least. She didn’t have anything against the girl; they happened to not run in the same circles. That in itself was a little odd, because Marissa tended to run in all the circles. Everyone she knew either found her okay or were indifferent towards the transfer. Well, except Emmett, but that could be taken with a grain of salt. The sixth year tended to have random vendettas against plenty of people with no real reason. As weird as the pairing seemed to be at first, the Rose and Emmett relationship made sense that way. Both had a tendency to be fiercely overprotective of those they loved most - Marissa for Rose and Holland for Emmett - and would hold a never ending grudge against someone if they even thought that person slighted their friend.

Anyway, Myffi had the letter now, and Marissa really needed her to read it. Her ability to handle rejection right now was extremely limited. She decided to talk first, though, and Marissa listened, because she knew the other girl was trying to be helpful.

Myffi lived in California, which was a surprise to her. When she stopped worrying about this letter, she’d have to remember to ask her about it. The redhead had applied to a couple of schools in California. There were some really great areas for weird experimental art stuff, and she doubted there was a lack of parties in the state. She’d applied to Francine’s school. If Francine could get in, then surely Marissa could, too. That party school was her version of a safety. If it seemed like she’d end up there, she’d ask Francine to set up a tour for her.

The story about her move to California was similar enough to Marissa’s current situation, while also being completely different. Myffi’s fears had been valid, but they weren’t what the Aquila was scared of. She wasn’t worried about packing up and leaving everyone. She was worried that everyone was going to pack up and leave her.

Rather than admit that to someone she didn’t know so well, she shrugged at the question. “I got a rejection letter over midterm,” she admitted, “And I haven’t gotten an acceptance yet.” She didn’t need the reminder from institutions she’d be paying to teach her that she was dumber than all of her friends. She knew that. What she lacked in intelligence, she tried to make up for with creativity and spontaneity. Clearly that didn’t matter much anymore. She just kinda sucked at everything, even the parties she used to be so good at throwing.

“So if you could look for me, just so I don’t have to read what’s probably another rejection, that’d be great.” She smiled a little. “I’ve had it all day and I just… can’t open it. My brain stops me whenever I try.”