This is a rough draft. It has undergone little editing and no re-writes. Enjoy as this story comes together. 

The housekeeper gasped. She had just found the young lady of the house lying prostrate in the foyer. Her bag was tossed to the side.

“Miss Haynes?” she asked tentatively.

Wilona turned her head and her face appeared beneath her forest of hair.

“Ah, Julla. Afternoon,” Wilona said.

“It is. Are you ok?” Julla asked.

Wilona closed her eyes and smiled.

“Yes, quite alright.

With great effort, Wilona propped herself on her arms and rolled to her feet. A distinct patch of dirt and sweat lay in her place.

“Ah, I guess I should shower,” Wilona said. “Sorry about the mess.”

Julla smiled. “Quite alright, Miss,” she replied.

Wilona snatched her bag from the ground and crawled up the three flights to her bathroom.

A short while later, a freshly scoured Wilona appeared, swathed in loose sleep-wear. Her exhaustion had reached a familiarly high level. Were it not for the prospect of dinner, moving, let alone dressing and appearing before her parents, would have been improbable. She made what she thought were graceful steps when in truth her tired feet thudded the entire descent.

From the landing she passed the kitchen and turned left to the dining room. Like the rest of the house, it was rustically decorated. Wood trim, framed acrylic paintings, lamps with bulbs designed with the warmth and slight flicker of candles. That sort of thing. In the direct center of the room was a perfectly crafted wooden table at which her parents presently sat on perpendicular sides. Her father looked up as she entered and his hand retracted instantly from her mother’s leg. Wilona successfully displayed no reaction to this horrible discovery.

Her father had the curly mane and round face. Her mother had the blonde, green eyes, and freckles combo. They were all the same height though that was barely over five feet.

“Wilona!” her mother said. Then she clear her throat. “Julla will bring your food immediately.”

Wilona sat in her usual place; to the left of her mother and across from her father. The space to his left was reserved for whatever guests might be in attendance. Julla hustled from the kitchen with a steaming plate of roasted chicken glazed in a sauce with an annoyingly complex name, broccoli and snap peas. She smiled slightly at Wilona before returning to the kitchen. Wilona poured her own water.

Her parents had long finished but they tried to wait quietly while she ate. Around the fifth bite, however, her father broke the silence.

“Have you finished your admission letters yet?” he asked in a sickeningly innocent tone. Wilona scowled.

“The Ivy Leagues like early submissions. Shows determination and intent. Don’t want to look like you’ve been mulling it for too long," her father said.

“But I have been mulling it,” Wilona said. “I haven’t decided where I want yet.”

“You could go to your father’s alma mater,” her mother chimed in. “I’m sure they’d love to continue the family attendance.”

“Your mother’s is quite good as well,” added her father.

“Oh! Mrs. Hawling was telling me about a scholarship for brilliant young women as well. You should submit your biographic letter to that as well—”

“I haven’t written the letter either,” Wilona said.

The room fell silent. Wilona could see the shadow of Julla’s feet under the door to the kitchen.

“Wilona Haynes,” her father began carefully. “You are a junior now. Your peers won’t be submitting until the end of the year. We Haynes don’t wait until everyone else has bit the bait. We charge in first.”

That’s usually how fish get caught, Wilona thought.

Her mother had brought the big guns. She put on her best sweet and supportive face.

“We want you to be as great as you’re capable to be,” she said.

Wilona broke eye contact. She had her mother’s eyes but she wasn’t nearly as good at using them so effectively.

“There is a scholarship I want to try for,” Wilona said.

“What’s that?” her father asked eagerly.

Wilona took a sharp shallow breath.

“The Allerton Running Scholars Award.”