The email arrived mid-lecture, a stark white rectangle against the professor’s droning voice. Sarah, however, barely registered the words about the history of the printing press. She had been doodling intricate patterns in her notebook, each line a little curlicue of pure, unadulterated joy. Now, the official notice, subject line: “Important Announcement Regarding the Future of Oakhaven College,” felt like a celestial chorus had just erupted in her brain. She let out a silent whoop, bouncing in her seat, heart hammering a joyful tattoo against her ribs.
Her gaze darted around the room. No one else seemed to have checked their inboxes yet. She wanted to scream with laughter, to leap onto the desk and shout the news, but she bit her lip, suppressing the impulse. Her fingers tapped a frenetic rhythm on the desk. Finally, the lecture ended.
She practically sprinted out of the classroom, her backpack swinging wildly. "Freedom!" she whispered to the wind as she burst out of the building. Oakhaven, with its stuffy rules and suffocating traditions, was done. She pictured the wide-open expanse of the summer stretched before her. What could she possibly do now? The possibilities were dizzying.