As to where you are going to college when you finish school, I wouldn't worry about that now if I were you. Finish school first, by then you'll probably know where you want to go.
I've always found it a pretty good rule to follow, never to worry about another job, until I've finished the one I'm working on. There are lots of people who make themselves sick worrying about things that never happen, when they might as well save their doctor's bills and enjoy life.
Personally, I think it doesn't make much difference where you go, as long as you go to college to do a fair amount of work, and not just to play football and have a good time.
There are a lot of advantages in going to one of the big universities, where you can study anything from Egyptian Hair Dressing in the fourth century B. C., to the vibrations caused by an airplane flying at one hundred miles an hour, and where you have the advantage of wonderful libraries, museums, and laboratories, to help you in your work.
Then again, the small college with its solid academic course, based principally on honest to goodness horse sense, is a pretty good place, for not having fifty-seven varieties of courses, it's apt to rub thoroughly into a boy's hide what it does have to offer.
When the time comes for you to go to college I'm not going to interfere, I am going to let you make your own choice; but as that time is nearly two years away, I'd do a little more thinking about how you are going to pass your final exams, this year, than worrying about what college you are going to enter a year from next fall.
You remind me of a clerk, by the name of Charlie Harris, I once had in the factory. Charlie was a good, hard working boy, came to me right from high school, and as he didn't seem to have a grudge against the hands of the clock because they moved slowly, and was always willing to do a little more than his share of the work, I became interested in him.
Charlie had one queer trick, though, he was never satisfied with finishing the job he had on hand, but was forever worrying about the next bit of work he might have to do, not worrying mind you, because he had the next job coming to him. As I said before Charlie wasn't afraid of work, but he was always afraid something was going to queer the future job, before he could get to it, and get it finished.