“Hey, numbers don’t lie, Maeve,” Trey says, his brown eyes flashing with excitement.
Leaning forward in my seat, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“That video you posted an hour ago already has fifty thousand views. Based on the algorithm the app uses, at this rate, you’ll have a million views by sundown,” Trey explains. And he would know. He’s an exceptionally talented gamer and livestreams himself. He’s gained a large following and has already made enough money from streaming to pay for a new car and his own apartment.
“Seriously?” I ask breathlessly, taking out my phone, only to find that Trey’s right. “This is too wild.”
“Embrace it, babe,” Noah says, rapping his knuckles on the desk. “Like I said, you deserve it. You work so hard on your paintings. They should be appreciated.”
Who cares what anyone else thinks?Irecall Noah’s earlier words with a bitterness that I can almost taste on the back of my tongue. I try, but I can’t hold off the indignant smirk that rises when I remember that’s not what he was trying to convince me of yesterday. Quickly, I turn away so he can’t see what I think of his hypocrisy.
As the professor calls the hall to attention, I’m forced to abandon the thought. For the next hour I struggle to focus, distracted by Noah and Trey stealing glances at their phones as they watch the number of views go up. Trey tosses me a conspiratorial wink when it hits two hundred thousand.
“Told you,” he mouths.
I’m shaking my head at him when my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I wait for the professor to turn back to the slide deck being projected against the wall before checking my phone. It’s an email.
Dear Maeve Adelyn Johnson,
It is with my sincerest pleasure that I invite you to audition for acceptance to the prestigious Lizbeth College for the Arts in Rockrose, Illinois. Despite the fact that our Fall semester has already begun, your work has recently caught the attention of our admissions committee. Instead of waiting for our next admissions cycle at the end of the semester, we invite you to audition for immediate enrollment. Please respond to this invitation at your earliest convenience. We would relish the opportunity to meet you as soon as possible.
Congratulations!
Kind Regards,
Carol Reithart, M. Ed.
Dean of Admissions
Lizbeth College for the Arts
I don’t hear my chair clatter to the linoleum floor. I don’t feel all the eyes in the class snap to me. All I can do is turn to Noah and throw my arms around his neck. Unprepared, he barely catches my weight before we fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
With concern glinting in his eyes, he asks, “Maeve?”
For the second time today, I shove my phone in his face. His gaze softens as he reads the email. The entire class is out of their seats and staring, but I pay them no mind.
“What is going on?” our professor demands.
“Maeve’s leaving this hell hole behind,” Noah replies too quietly for anyone but me to hear. “She just got an invitation to play in the big leagues.”
The adoration in his gaze makes my heart grow so large, it feels like it might burst from my chest. We both ignore the professor, and our classmates, as we kiss on the floor for the whole world to see. The class descends into chaos, whistling, whooping, and clapping for us. I laugh against Noah’s lips before moving to stand as I sear this moment into my memory forever.
Get ready, Lizbeth. Here I come.
6Imperfection
The rest of the morning passes in a blur. I forward the email to Mom and Dad after my third and final class of the day. My phone is chirping with their call mere moments later.
“You can’t let this opportunity pass you by, Maeve,” Dad encourages.
“Absolutely, sweetheart,” Mom is quick to agree. “You have to go to the audition.”
I’m holding back tears as I hang up with them. They seem genuinely excited for me.This, I realize,must be how Grayson feels.
Wasting no time, I respond to Dean Reithart’s email, formally accepting her invitation to audition. She replies almost immediately and we schedule my audition for noon tomorrow, Wednesday, September 19th.
Noah helps me carry my abstract painting out to his car. Heads leaned together, we check my video again. It has five hundred thousand views. We laugh, we make out, and we want to do a little more, but my parents are expecting me home for a celebratory dinner.
