At last, the big day arrived. Steve met up with a group of friends and they walked to College. The conversation jogged along for most of the journey until they went up the road leading to the College. Nerves kicked in and talk faded. The day was important to them all. It would decide their immediate futures. Through double doors and the foyer buzzed with activity. Some students queued for their results, others were all smiles. A few stared in disbelief at results with tears in their eyes.
Gronk stood in line with Groate and a few Posheys. He was supremely confident. And for good reason, in his superlative view. He had applied to the University of Snookford and received the usual offer of three As, unless you were ultra posh, of course. Only the pinnacle of high society could expect unconditional offers and a guaranteed passage to the ultimate bastion of privilege. Background was the trump card when it came to entry to the University of Snookford, which built its reputation on a lack of diversity. Some were forced to work for good grades, while others breezed in armed only with aloofness.
Bolstered by an exaggerated view of his position in society, Gronk thought his offer must have been down to his brilliant performance at interview. On a glorious sunny day earlier in the year, he alighted a coach in the centre of Snookford City and admired the golden stone buildings as he strutted along. Once past a bowler-hatted gentlemen, he was escorted along an oaken corridor to the interview room. As expected, the interview was not related to the degree course he applied for. It was all about accent and overbearing opinions, and Gronk was sure he impressed the tutors.
Groate’s mind rushed back to the present. “Today is going to be smashing,” he told himself. “Yes, going up to Snookford will be simply marvellous,” Gronk sniffed with aplomb. “I can do things, as it were, too well sometimes… I’m more than exceptional.”
Very nice job Callum.
Thank you David, more of that on the way.