From the beginning of April, when he sent out the final application materials, until the end of May now, nearly eight weeks had passed. By Dean's calculation, the response from Stanford should be arriving about now.
And indeed, as he had thought, when Dean came down from his dorm, the UPS delivery person was holding a red and white striped envelope, straddled across the motorcycle.
"I hope it's good news," the delivery person said with a smile as he handed the letter to Dean—each year around this time, he would deliver a large number of similar letters.
So just by seeing the envelope, he knew that the letter pertained to whether the student in front of him would be admitted to the university of his dreams.
"Thank you, and I wish you a smooth journey too." Taking the letter from the delivery person, Dean could hardly wait to open it.
