Point Me to Tomorrow by Veronica Chambers Page A

could use something like this out there.”
    All of a sudden, Alicia felt the pride that had been eluding her since the beginning of senior year. Maybe she didn’t have the musical talent that Gaz had; she certainly didn’t have Jamie’s artistic gifts; and she couldn’t sketch or sew like Carmen (then again, who could?). But what she’d done with the help of her oh-so-talented friends was to start a business that could actually go national, a business that could potentially last a very long time.
    The group chatted for a few minutes, and then Mr. Stevens interrupted. “Okay, people, now it’s time to do the work,” he announced. “Your first exercise is a pop-up.” As if it were the easiest thing in the world, he jumped onto the sand, landed in a full push-up, and from there, jumped back to a standing position. “ That is essentially how you stand up on a surfboard.
    â€œNow, everybody try it,” he suggested cheerfully.
    They did, and, from the sloppy scrambles to the ground, coupled with a few real moans and groans, Alicia could tell that everyone found the exercise quite as difficult as she did.
    The beach was getting more crowded, and soon the would-be surfers were sharing their turf with couples out together for an early-morning stroll and others walking their dogs. Alicia tried to fight her self-consciousness.
    Mr. Stevens asked the group, “So, where did you feel that exercise?”
    People called out answers ranging from “my legs” to “my hips” to, oddly enough, “my ankles.”
    Mr. Stevens pointed to his stomach. “Where you should be feeling it is right here. Surfing is all about using your core. And this is where what you learn on the board will help you become chairman or chairwoman of the board. Because in business, as in life, you’ve got to trust your gut.” Then he said, “Okay, folks, give me fifteen pop-ups.”
    Alicia did ten pop-ups and thought her arms would drop off, or her legs, or both.
    Next thing she knew, she was in the ocean, sitting on top of her board and gazing out at the horizon. The sound of the bright blue waves echoed the churning that she felt inside. There was so much to think about: the future of Amigas Inc.; her relationship with Gaz; college…As she paddled out further, she considered Mr. Stevens’s recommendation: Trust your gut. Alicia felt that his message had been for her and only her. Was her gut telling her something that she had been trying hard to ignore? She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
    Suddenly, she knew. Harvard was her first-choice school. That was where she wanted to be. Not because it was where her parents had gone or because it was where everyone expected her to go, but because it was the best place for a young entrepreneur like herself. She was so happy she wanted to hug Mr. Stevens.
    The group had barely gotten the hang of paddling out when the two-hour class was over.
    Afterward, Mr. Stevens, all grins, asked her, “So, what do you think? You didn’t want to come, did you? I really wasn’t sure you would show up.”
    Alicia looked shyly down at her bare feet. “I think I loved it. And you were right about learning to read the waves. Out on the water, I suddenly felt so strong and calm. I’ve been struggling for so long to decide which college felt like the best fit for me, and now I know for certain that Harvard is my first choice.”
    Mr. Stevens crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well, that’s interesting news. You know, I get my best ideas when I’m out in the ocean.”
    Alicia nodded. She wasn’t ready to ride a giant just yet; she was more a baby-stepping surfing wannabe. But she’d gone beyond her comfort zone, and that small move had made everything else seem possible. “I know it here ,” she said, pointing to her stomach. “In my gut. I also don’t want to apply just to