materials have been received and reviewed by their Graphic Arts program. The letter goes on to say that my work samples and recommendations have “convinced the faculty that I have the aptitude, talent, and imagination needed to make valuable contributions to their diverse community and thrive in their rich artistic environment.” And to top it all off, they would like to invite me to Boston to tour their state-of-the-art facilities and meet with faculty for an interview. I read it two more times until the words sink in.
Clearly, this is a mistake.
I never applied, so how could they have seen my stuff? I flip through the rest of the envelope’s contents: financial aid forms and a few informational pamphlets, all of which seem pretty legit.
Suddenly everything clicks into place. Peyton keeping my drawings. Mr. Vaughn’s comment the day of the fire alarm about how he was thinking good thoughts for me.
Peyton must have sent the application and asked Mr. Vaughn to write the recommendation. I swear, sometimes it seems like Freeze Frame means as much to her as it does to me. She knew I would never have the confidence to do it on my own, because honestly, going to college is a dream, kind of like winning the lottery or finding out that doughnuts are healthy. The odds of spending my life doing what I love rather than saying “Would you like ketchup or ranch?” or “Cat food is in aisle six” are not exactly stacked in my favor.
Until maybe now.
Not gonna lie: it’s a little overwhelming to allow myself to think like that. When you’re used to falling down over and over again, it’s hard to believe life could ever be any different. In fact, I can come up with lots of reasons I shouldn’t even consider going to this college, but it all boils down to this: I’m scared. Like crap-my-pants, what-if-I-go-for-it-and-find-out-I-completely-suck-ass-and-this-is-as-good-as-it-gets scared. I’m so convinced I’m gonna fail that I find a way to sabotage the situation before it can happen. Honestly, the biggest thing standing in my way is me.
I picture Peyton sitting in the park, scared and ashamed. I’m a total jerk for letting her feel that way. After all she’s been through, even though she lied, she meant to protect me. In the end, the person she was trying to protect me from the most was herself.
Somehow, that makes me love her all the more.
I decide that tomorrow I’m going to tell her I’m sorry, that we’ll figure it all out as we go.
I make it until about 2:00 a.m. Tomorrow, even if it is technically now today, is too far away. I have to tell her right now. So I grab the envelope and get on my bike, despite my legs’ protests, and ride to her house. I’m not surprised to find her walking down the street, even though it’s the middle of the night. It’s like she was waiting for me, as if she knew I’d come.
Of course she knew I’d come.
I slow my bike and ride alongside her as she walks. She digs her hands in her pockets and steals a glance at me before returning her gaze to the full moon overhead.
“What do you want, Hank? I told you that you could walk away. I’d understand. And I meant it. You didn’t need to come here to tell me I’m crazy and need help or that I’m some horrible person. Let me save you the trouble. I figured all that out on my own.”
“I wanted to talk to you,” I say.
“Seriously, I’ll be fine. Things are looking up. My mother finally kicked Pete to the curb. Turns out he really had stolen money from her too. On the downside, the new wallpaper and pool are a no-go. But, I’ll be eighteen in less than three weeks. Then I can get the hell out of here and none of this will matter anyway. So what I’m saying is, you don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I always have.”
When she’s done talking, I reach behind me to pull the envelope from the back pocket of my jeans and hand it to her. She stops walking, and I straddle my bike as she eyes it curiously. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
She does, and her eyes fly over the words. Then she half smiles. “Not a surprise. Congratulations.”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
She hands me back the letter and her smile fades. “I’m sorry. I thought it would make