Chapter 1: Denied Leave

Grandma’s dying. I stood outside the student counselor’s office, fingers numb, rehearsing the words I’d have to say. I needed to go home. She said no.

My phone buzzed with Dad’s latest update: Grandma was fading fast. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, trying to swallow the panic. As I stepped into her cramped, fluorescent-lit office, the AC rattled overhead, a Red Sox bobblehead wobbling on her shelf. The stale smell of printer ink and old takeout hung in the air. Somewhere down the hall, a printer jammed and beeped. I tried to hold myself together.

Ms. Benson didn’t even look up at first. Finally, she peered over her glasses and said, “Why are you asking for time off? Your grandma’s still alive, isn’t she? Even if the worst happens, what difference does it make if you’re there or not?” Her tone was sharp, brisk, like she was swatting away a fly instead of hearing a plea.

She tossed off the words like they meant nothing, then flicked my leave form aside and said, “Get out. I’m not approving it.”

She dropped her gaze, like a kid who’s learned not to talk back, and went back to her paperwork as if I’d brought up some trivial nonsense. I never imagined she could be so heartless. I managed, “Ms. Benson, that’s my actual grandmother.”

She adjusted her glasses, clearly annoyed. “Who doesn’t have a grandma? Are you the only one? Are you some kind of special case? So what if she’s your real grandma—she’s not dead yet, is she?”

My ears rang. My hands curled so tight in my hoodie pocket my knuckles ached. I couldn’t believe someone who was supposed to be a role model, an educated advisor, could say something so cold.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood, fighting not to scream. I couldn’t hold back and raised my voice: “She’s in the ICU right now. This could be the last time I ever see her!”

BANG!

The counselor slammed her pen down on the desk, face set in a scowl. “Why are you yelling? I’m already being polite to you, you know that?”

She rattled off, “Do you know how many students I manage? Five sections from Electrical Engineering, two from Electronics—nearly two hundred people. Today this one asks for leave, tomorrow another one, what do you expect me to do?”

“The homecoming parade’s about to start and you want leave now? What, you lost your sense of responsibility to the team?” She shook her head. “You’d better get this straight: college isn’t a playground for you to do whatever you want…”

Her lecture droned on, my anxiety eating me alive. The clock on the wall ticked loud as a drumline, and I stared at the safety poster taped to the door to keep from shouting back.

Her words made me furious, but this wasn’t the time to argue. I forced myself to calm down and pleaded again. “Ms. Benson, I’m really in a hurry, I have to get home as soon as possible. If you don’t believe me, I can call my parents.”

I took out my phone, but she waved me off. “Don’t bother. And don’t even think about using your parents to pressure me—I don’t care. Bottom line, no matter what happens to your grandma, I absolutely will not approve this leave. Just give it up.”