Point Me to Tomorrow by Veronica Chambers Page B

Ivy League schools. I want to target schools that will help me nurture my creativity and business skills. Schools that have innovative programs where I can meet cool people like I met today.”
    Mr. Stevens patted her on the shoulder. “Alicia, girl, I think you just caught your first big wave.”
    Later that morning, Alicia arrived at home to find her parents swimming in the pool. It always surprised her to see them just chilling like a couple of teenagers. Her parents usually just sat by the pool. Her father liked to read international newspapers on his Kindle, and her mother was surgically attached to her BlackBerry. But for Marisol and Enrique Cruz to be in their swimsuits, in the water? Not so much.
    Alicia kicked off her flip-flops and sat at the edge of the pool, letting her legs dangle in the water.
    â€œÂ¡Hola, gente!” she announced, beckoning to her parents the way her father had used to call out to her and her brother when he wanted to get their attention.
    They swam over, amused expressions on their faces.
    â€œI have an announcement,” Alicia proclaimed. “Harvard has a joint BA/MBA program that I’m really excited about. It’s going to be my first-choice school.”
    Her mother was smiling so broadly that Alicia couldn’t help teasing her. “Mom, relax! You look like one of those Botoxed South Beach ladies.”
    Marisol Cruz splashed her, despite the fact that Alicia was fully dressed, in a very cute boatneck T and denim shorts.
    â€œCan’t a mother be proud?” her mom asked.
    Alicia blushed. “Mom, for real, chill. Let me get into Harvard first.”
    Her father might not have been a practicing lawyer anymore, but he still knew how to cross-examine a witness. “Lici,” he ventured, “you’ve been so secretive about college applications. Is there something we should know?”
    Alicia sighed. She remembered how brave she had felt paddling out on her rented longboard into the big blue ocean, and she knew she was brave enough, finally, to tell her parents the truth.
    â€œHey, I don’t want to turn this into some big, deep moment,” she began, “but the truth is I’ve been really conflicted about applying to Harvard. You guys are so successful; it’s a lot to live up to. I’ve been fighting Harvard, because I didn’t want to just follow in your footsteps. I wanted to achieve something on my own.”
    Her parents looked shocked, as if they had just spotted her on TV in some “Secret Life of Teenagers” documentary special.
    â€œLici!” her father exclaimed. “You are seventeen years old and you’ve started a business that grosses more than I made my first year out of college.”
    Her mother put on a robe and sat down next to her at the edge of the pool. Reflexively, Alicia rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.
    â€œYou are a complete original,” her mother said. “There’s no limit to what you can do. Your father and I have been fortunate. We’ve done well, and we’re grateful for that. But our dream was never just to give you and your brother a fancy house with a swimming pool. Our goal—our desire—was to have enough to give you choices, to show you all the possibilities the world has to offer. But with your quince business, you have shown us what our own culture and heritage have to offer.”
    In spite of herself, Alicia started crying. Her mother joined her. Out of the corner of her eye, Alicia could see that her father was tearing up, too. “Are you crying, Papa?” she asked.
    Enrique dived underneath the water and spiraled back up to the surface. “I’m not crying,” he sniffed.
    Then, in a more serious tone, he said to his daughter, “You are my best gift.”
    Alicia, ever the little sister, asked, “What about Alex?”
    Her father guffawed. “When he comes home from college and mows the lawn, he