“What size?”
“Big.”
“That’s not a size.”
“Extra big.”
College humbled me almost immediately.
Academically, I’d always been near the top.
At Georgetown, everyone had been near the top somewhere.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t automatically exceptional.
My first political theory paper came back with a C+.
I stared at the grade for twenty minutes.
Then I went to the bathroom and cried.
Old Claire would have created a recovery spreadsheet.
Calculated exactly what grades I needed on the next four assignments.
Estimated my final GPA.
Compared class averages.
Looked up graduate school requirements for a degree I hadn’t even decided I wanted.
Instead, I called home.
Ethan answered.
“Hello?”
“I got a C+.”
“In what?”
“A paper.”
“Oh.”
Silence.
I waited.
“That isn’t very good.”
I laughed despite myself.
“Thank you.”
“Do you want me to say it’s good?”
“No.”
“Then why are you mad?”
