The letter crinkled in my hand as I gripped it tighter. My back was beginning to hurt from sitting slumped on the steps of my apartment. 

Another rejection. 

I honestly didn't know why I felt so let down every time this letter came through. I was beginning to feel stupid for having ever tried the second time knowing good and well that even with straight A's, an extensive portfolio, and saved up funds that the line to get into this program was impossibly long. 

A traveling program was created by the school's anthropology department (my department). The program would allow me to travel the world studying the history of people for the entirety of 2 whole years! Traveling is my biggest and most ambitious dream, and I thought that talking my parents into letting me study in America and getting top grades in my degree that the opportunities would become less and less unattainable. 

But here I sat. 

Sitting on the steps of the same old apartment outside the same old university, whose distance from home had once filled me with such excitement had now lost its luster. In my hands, another failed attempt at my dream of going further. 

The buzzing of the timmer on my phone brought me back to reality. Whipping my eyes, I made my way back upstairs to my apartment where the alluring smell of pumpkin pie emanated. Double-checking the clock on the microwave, I was more than pleased that I seemed to be doing good on time. Wanting to contribute to the holiday, I had picked up a boxed pie from the freezer aisle at the local Hannaford supermarket. While it cooled on the counter, I ran to change into a cleaner sweater before boxing the dessert up and made of the door. 

Dinner with the Tyler's was a common treat and usually the highlight of my week. They didn't live too far, just a nicer apartment complex across the street and down a little ways. I was grateful the walk was so easy. Had they lived any farther away, the cold breeze of a November in Vermont would likely refreeze my poor pie. 

I made my way up the stairs of the complex and to a familiar apartment door. Not bothering to knock, I eased the door open. "Knock, knock!" I called out before slowly making my way in, shutting the door behind me with a shove of my hip. I happily turned to make my way to the kitchen when I stepped on what I guessed was some sort of toy vehicle. Just as I began to accept the fate of my soon to be murdered dignity, a pair of thin arms hooked under my armpits, one hand jutting out to steady the pie. "Whoa there!" 

I let out a breathy laugh while I tried to get a handle on that sinking feeling you get in your chest and stomach just before you fall. "Jeez! Thank you... I slaved over this thing all day." I joked. 

"I'm sure you did." he laughed, taking the dish from my hands and moving to the dining room. "Happy thanksgiving, Melody!"

"Happy thanksgiving, professor!" 

walking in from a back room came two friendly blonds that both reached out to give me a welcoming hug. "Happy thanksgiving, love!" 

"You too, Rose." I said, returning the hug. A familiar weight had passed into my arms from Rose's. Jackson had to be one of the cutest children I Had ever seen, giving even my own baby sister a run for her money. Some days, I forget it, considering how often his curiosity gets him into trouble. Jackson was a smiley little 3 year old with spiky blond hair and the biggest hazel eyes you've ever seen. "And a happy thanksgiving to you too!" I exclaimed, shaking him a bit before pulling him in for a kiss on his sticky cheek. 

I had really hit the lottery when it came to my job. After a short series of events that lead to me becoming close friends with the Tyler's, I had been hired as a frequent babysitter while professor Tyler taught and Rose worked at a local beauty salon. I suspected early on that Rose only worked for the fun of it, given the niceness of their apartment and the payments I received for every babysitting gid, I was certain there was some truth to a fleeting comment about her family being disgustingly well off. So between lectures and haircuts, I got little Jackson all to myself most afternoons. 

"The pie smells great." Rose complemented. I game her a snort. "It better be good, that's what the box promised." We both let out a laugh as we entered the dining room. The professor was moving in dishes from the kitchen to the main table (that I had never known them to actually use) and rearranged some of the leafy pumpkin decorations. Even a little paper turkey cutout-out in the shape of Jackson's hand was displayed proudly amongst the ornamentation. "Wow! You guys really went all out. It looks great. I'm glad you guys decided to take a whack at it." 

"not bad for our first one, yeah?" Rose smiled between her friend and husband. "So, we got turkey, loaded sweet potatoes, green bean casserole... contribution from the neighbors, and dinosaur mac-and-cheese." she gestured widely across the table. 

"Don't forget the best pumpkin pie that had ever been made." The professor called from the kitchen. 

"Oi! I'm starting to detect some sarcasm, professor!" 

"Who, me?" he walked in with a wink. "Never." We all chuckled. 

"Well, it's almost 6:30, you all want to start digging in?" Rose suggested. 

"I'm ready when you are." I chided, setting Jackson down in his booster chair so I could chuck off my heavy coat, draping it on the back of my chair. 

The group made small talk as we passed around plates and serving utensils, Jackson already making a dent in his mac-and-cheese. 

It was amazing how a chatty table of people could go so quiet so quickly once the food comes out. That's what my mom always said was the ultimate sign of a good meal. 

Small talk along with some friendly banter began to filter through the silence, and eventually, Rose spoke up. "So Mels, have you gotten the results back yet?" 

The sweet potatoes in my mouth suddenly tasted a lot like cardboard. "I did." I couldn't have possibly noticed the drop in my shoulders, or the small amount of light leave my own eyes... but Rose and the professor noticed. They shared sad glances at each other silently, feeling sorry for their young friend. 

"It was another no."

"Mels, I'm so sorry. That's not very nice news to get on a holiday, I imagine." Rose reached out to hold onto my arm in a comforting gesture, having flashbacks of consoling me a few months prior after my 10th rejection. But I shool myself back into the moment and cleared my throat uncomfortably, doing my best to put back on a cheery face in the hame of holiday spirit. 

"Oh, don't worry about me. How could I be upset on a holiday, surrounded by my friends, and eating good food until I get propper sick." I took a swig of wine in a show of good faith. "I guess thanksgiving is all about being thankful. I'm thankful I've gotten to study at this university. I'm thankful I'm in a position to even be able to apply at all. And most of all, I'm thankful for you and your family's friendship. I love you guys." By the end of my speech, I had managed some genuine warmth in my heart and offered a smile to the three people sitting around me. Rose's toothy smile stretched wide across her face, and the professor looked between the two of us with an expression of fondness. "And we are very thankful for you." He returned with a toast of his own wine, clinking it against Rose's class.

I felt my face heat up from all the gushy holiday compliments being passed around. Maybe I could suggest a round of pie to move onto another topic. 

"So, are you going to apply again?" the professor asked, his eyebrows raised. 

"Actually, yeah I am. I'll submit it on Monday when classes are back... for the last time." I forced a tone of authority into the last bit, knowing good and well how difficult it will be to draw a line in the sand and excepting when to give up. 

"The last time?" He asked. 

With a firm nod I answered, "Yeah... and who knows? Maybe 12 is my lucky number."