or not, because in his mind we’re both already going to Juilliard. I don’t know where he gets his confidence in me. I haven’t heard from Juilliard or Hartman. What if I don’t get into either one? For the few weeks I’ve been working with Mr. Lamont, which has been freaking incredible, I’ve learned a lot. I keep wishing I could re-do my audition tapes, but it’s too late for that. All I can do is hope for the best and wait, and wait, and wait.
It’s Friday afternoon and I’m walking home from school, approaching my house. Erik’s picking me up in a few minutes for our date. I’m looking forward to it, but at this precise moment, my mind is focused on one thing and one thing only. I hitch my school bag higher on my shoulder and head straight to our mailbox, just as I have every day for weeks. And just like every other day, I get a swoop of anticipation in my stomach when I pull out the daily stack of mail.
Flipping through, I freeze when I see a cream-colored envelope from Hartman College. My heart starts banging around in my chest.
Something! Finally!
But I just stand there gawking at it. The maroon crest is embossed on the upper left-hand corner. It’s a thick envelope. That has to be a good sign, right? I got all kinds of paperwork with my acceptance letter to BSU and Erik’s have been the same way. But if Hartman were going to tell me to take a hike, how many pages would they really need? I walk up the sidewalk, still studying the envelope. I unlock the front door, drop my bag on the floor, head for the kitchen, and toss the remaining mail on the counter.
Missy, our cat, is lounging on the bench under the kitchen window. She looks nice and toasty in her little spot of sunshine and blinks at me languidly.
I squeeze the envelope, trying to guess how many pages are inside. Five maybe? I think about waiting for Erik for moral support—he should be here any time now—but I have a feeling I know what this is going to say. All of a sudden, I can’t wait another second to find out for sure.
Holding my breath, I rip into the envelope and pull out a stack of neatly folded pages.
Three seconds later, I’m screaming and jumping around in the kitchen, and Missy is bolting down the hallway in terror.
The doorbell rings and I run for the front door, knowing who it is. I fling it open to see Erik’s startled face, then say, “I got into Hartman! I got into Hartman!”
He whoops and hangs onto me as I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms and legs around him. “I got in! I got in! I got in!”
He laughs and spins me around. “I knew you would, baby!”
I drop to my feet and show him the letter. “Look! Look at it!”
He puts his arm around me and squeezes my shoulders. I lean against his chest, grinning at the letter. Then I start flipping through the other pages. It’s all there: the admissions form and information about deadlines and fees. The fees scare the hell out of me, frankly, but I’ve applied for scholarships and aid at all three schools and can only hope for the best. If I have to, I’ll work part-time to help pay for things and take out loans for the rest.
“God, I can’t believe it,” I say, exhaling sharply. “ Hartman. I can’t believe I got in.”
“See?” Erik says, with his trademark confidence. I already know what he’s going to say next. “I told you you’re good enough. Now Juilliard doesn’t seem like such a stretch, does it?”
I look up at him. He’s grinning down at me. I smile broadly. God, he’s right. For the first time, Juilliard really, truly feels like it could happen. If I could get into Hartman...
“I love you,” I say.
He smiles. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He wags his eyebrows at me. “Time to celebrate?”
“My parents will be home soon,” I say, laughing lightly and returning my attention to the letter. I hold it to my chest. I can’t believe I got in to freaking Hartman.
“Well, how long does it take?” he says, pinching my
It’s Friday afternoon and I’m walking home from school, approaching my house. Erik’s picking me up in a few minutes for our date. I’m looking forward to it, but at this precise moment, my mind is focused on one thing and one thing only. I hitch my school bag higher on my shoulder and head straight to our mailbox, just as I have every day for weeks. And just like every other day, I get a swoop of anticipation in my stomach when I pull out the daily stack of mail.
Flipping through, I freeze when I see a cream-colored envelope from Hartman College. My heart starts banging around in my chest.
Something! Finally!
But I just stand there gawking at it. The maroon crest is embossed on the upper left-hand corner. It’s a thick envelope. That has to be a good sign, right? I got all kinds of paperwork with my acceptance letter to BSU and Erik’s have been the same way. But if Hartman were going to tell me to take a hike, how many pages would they really need? I walk up the sidewalk, still studying the envelope. I unlock the front door, drop my bag on the floor, head for the kitchen, and toss the remaining mail on the counter.
Missy, our cat, is lounging on the bench under the kitchen window. She looks nice and toasty in her little spot of sunshine and blinks at me languidly.
I squeeze the envelope, trying to guess how many pages are inside. Five maybe? I think about waiting for Erik for moral support—he should be here any time now—but I have a feeling I know what this is going to say. All of a sudden, I can’t wait another second to find out for sure.
Holding my breath, I rip into the envelope and pull out a stack of neatly folded pages.
Three seconds later, I’m screaming and jumping around in the kitchen, and Missy is bolting down the hallway in terror.
The doorbell rings and I run for the front door, knowing who it is. I fling it open to see Erik’s startled face, then say, “I got into Hartman! I got into Hartman!”
He whoops and hangs onto me as I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms and legs around him. “I got in! I got in! I got in!”
He laughs and spins me around. “I knew you would, baby!”
I drop to my feet and show him the letter. “Look! Look at it!”
He puts his arm around me and squeezes my shoulders. I lean against his chest, grinning at the letter. Then I start flipping through the other pages. It’s all there: the admissions form and information about deadlines and fees. The fees scare the hell out of me, frankly, but I’ve applied for scholarships and aid at all three schools and can only hope for the best. If I have to, I’ll work part-time to help pay for things and take out loans for the rest.
“God, I can’t believe it,” I say, exhaling sharply. “ Hartman. I can’t believe I got in.”
“See?” Erik says, with his trademark confidence. I already know what he’s going to say next. “I told you you’re good enough. Now Juilliard doesn’t seem like such a stretch, does it?”
I look up at him. He’s grinning down at me. I smile broadly. God, he’s right. For the first time, Juilliard really, truly feels like it could happen. If I could get into Hartman...
“I love you,” I say.
He smiles. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He wags his eyebrows at me. “Time to celebrate?”
“My parents will be home soon,” I say, laughing lightly and returning my attention to the letter. I hold it to my chest. I can’t believe I got in to freaking Hartman.
“Well, how long does it take?” he says, pinching my
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