"Yes, but it's four o'clock in the afternoon," She says, "I could be at home right now. Watching TV. But I'm not. I'm here. Isn't that weird?"
"I don't know. Maybe you wanted-" I begin to say, but she cuts me off, clearly because she's becoming rather impatient.
"You know what, forget it! I'll just tell what happened!" She declares, that same creepy grin slithering back onto her lips. "So there I was, just sitting at home, watching Desperate Housewives and then, I got a call."
I raise an eyebrow at the dramatic tone of her voice, but nonetheless, I nod for her to continue. "And?"
"The man who runs the Young Artist exhibit called," She says slowly. And immediately so, she sparks my curiosity. "A visitor at the museum was asking about your painting," She pauses, probably for dramatic effect. "Turns out, he works at some big art college in New York. He wants to talk to you about attending the school, Ronnie."
My eyes widen in shock as she begins to squeal in excitment and embraces me suddenly. "Isn't that amazing, Ronnie?"
I nod, speechless as I grip her back tightly. Finally, I manage to comment, "Yeah. It is. Amazing, I mean," I utter out. "Absolutely amazing."
It all happens really quick. That Sunday, I get to meet the dude that was at the museum and took interest in my painting and me. It turns out his name is Bill Carter, AKA, Mr. Carter. He works at the Academy of Arts in New York, as Dean of admission.
We had met at the small coffee shop in town and immediatly, he begin to dive into what the whole school was about. He explained about the courses and the teachers themselves. He even went as far as to show me paintings from other students attending the school. They were all beyond amazing and the whole time he spoke to me, I couldn't help but wonder what some big time Dean who ran an art school in New York was doing talking to me.
Me.
A not-so-simple girl who lived in a really small town - as cliche as it sounded - and how my painting had caught his eye while there were so many other amazing paintings at the Young Artist Exhibit. Of course, while he was speaking, I couldn't help but blurt that out.
"Why me?" I ask suddenly, rudely cutting him off. Immediatly, Mr. Carter's features twist into one of confusion.
"Excuse me? I don't quite understand what you're asking."
"I mean, why me? Why did you pick to speak to me about the college when there were so many other amazing paintings at the exhibit? Honestly, I don't even think I would be able to pay for the school. It's amazing, don't get me wrong, but I wouldn't be able to afford it." I explain awkwardly.
A grim smile slips onto Mr. Carter's lips. "Because your painting stuck out to me, Ronnie. Your painting was raw and emotional and just down right incredible. You're so young and bright, and I would hate to think that you do not realize that." He says strongly, "As for the money situation, I've reviewed your grades for your other courses. You have relatively good grades and could potentially graduate a year earlier if you wanted," He comments. "The only class I notice problem with is math. But if you are willing to raise that grade and work hard for the rest of the year, we are willing to offer you a scholarship."
I nearly choke at the word scholorship. Scholarship? Is he serious?
"Are you serious? A scholarship? Oh my god, am I dreaming?" I mutter stupidly. He chuckles and shakes his head.
"No, you aren't, Ms. Mars. We will offer you a dorm, of course, at the expense of a having to deal with a room mate and all the tuition paid. Though you would have to deal with your own living expenses. Such as food and so soon and so forth."
The A Team.
Start from the beginning
