Read Online What Would Emma Do? by Eileen Cook - Free Book Online

into a round of “Amazing Grace.” Darci’s mom and dad ran to her side and dropped to the floor next to her. There was no sound for a split second; it was absolutely silent in the church, as if everyone was waiting for the sound waves to ripple out of the room.
    “Someone call 911!” a voice yelled out, and then everyone began to panic. Kids cried, and there was a crash as someone dropped her purse, its contents clattering down on the tile floor. Some people pushed up toward the action, while others tried to start herding their families out of the church. A few more stood in place, as if they weren’t sure if they were coming or going.
    I think it was safe to say church service was officially over.

11
     
    God, you know the Bible story about the tower of Babel, where no one can understand anyone else? Sometimes I think I’m living out that story. Everyone around me is speaking English, but we don’t understand one another at all. I have to tell you, if I were going to pick a Bible story to live out, this wouldn’t be it. I would prefer to be in the garden with a cute Adam (no fig leaf required). No disrespect to Eve, of course. To be honest, I would prefer Noah’s ark, even with the catastrophic flood aspect. I like animals. In fact, I like animals more than I like most people I know. Then again, if I have to live out a Bible story, the Babel story is better than most of Revelation. The horsemen of the apocalypse freak me out.
     
     
    “You have to help me with this. I’ve got to send it in next week and I have nothing.” I looked down at the computer screen in disgust. The curser blinked, and I’m fairly sure it was blinking in Morse code, “You’re an idiot, you’re an idiot.” Every time a letter from Northwestern came in the mail my heart would speed up, and every time it was a demand for something else. You ask people for a few zillion dollars so you can go to their school, and they keep demanding things of you. I wished they would just let me know if I had the scholarship or if I was going to have to sell off a kidney to go there, because there was no way I was staying here. I looked at the letter again and wondered if instead of answering the question I could just send in a copy of the results from the meet that weekend.
    “What part are you stuck on?” Joann asked.
    I doubted she was taking my crisis seriously, since she wasn’t even looking up from Vogue . Of course, in fairness, I hadn’t told her about not applying anywhere else either, so it’s possible she didn’t grasp the severity of the situation. She held up a page of the magazine to me.
    “Do you think I would look fat in this?”
    “Everyone would look fat in that,” I said.
    “Huh.” She scrunched her eyes up at it. “Keira Knightley doesn’t look fat in it.”
    “Keira Knightley is a human hanger. I suspect she considers a single grain of rice to be a well-rounded meal.”
    “I still like the pants, plus Colin loves Keira.”
    “You realize, of course, that while you’re debating the pros and cons of the wisdom of high-waisted sailor pants, my future hangs in the balance?”
    “Okay, sorry. I’m paying attention.” She put down the magazine.
    “This scholarship application has this stupid essay requirement.”
    “What’s the matter with those snooty colleges? It’s like they want you to be capable of thought in order to go to their fancy school. It sounds discriminatory to me.”
    I started to nod in agreement when I realized that she was making fun of me.
    “Your wit is not appreciated.”
    Joann tossed a pillow at my head with a laugh.
    “You’re good in English. What’s the problem?”
    “How are you supposed to answer a question like ‘Why have you chosen Northwestern University and what do you hope to get from your educational experience?’ How am I supposed to know what I want to get? You just know the correct answer is not the truth.” I mimed typing on the computer. “Dear Admissions Officer, by