And I was included?
“As you know,” Mr. Barlow said after he’d taken his seat behind his desk, “Trenton is a very competitive school. HTA has one of the few art programs in the Midwest from which Trenton will even consider students. To keep up the reputation of our program, I hand select the students from my AP class each year who I feel are best suited to apply for the program. There are only four applications to go around this year, and each of you is holding one.”
Daniel took in a deep breath beside me, as if savoring the moment.
I just plain couldn’t breathe.
“The application is due in a month. You will need to take photographs of your best pieces to make a portfolio of your work, get two letters of recommendation—I will provide one of them for each of you—and write two personal essays. You must mail the package by the date on the application, or you will not be considered. This is your one chance for Trenton, people—don’t blow it.”
April shook like a happy puppy. Katie hugged the application to her chest. Daniel wrapped his arm around me and gave my shoulders a squeeze.
“We did it, Grace,” he whispered, and kissed the side of my head.
“Don’t start celebrating yet.” Barlow clasped his hands on top of his desk. He usually did that when he was about to deliver the catch. “Trenton usually accepts only one HTA student a year—occasionally two.” His eyes flicked between Daniel and me. Then he looked at April and Katie. “I chose you four because you have a real shot. Do your absolute best with the applications, and maybe we’ll set a new record this year.” He stroked his handlebar mustache. “Now get out of my office and get back to work.”
“Good luck, ladies!” Katie said after we left the office. “Daniel”—she put her hand on his arm—“I want to make sure my painting is just right for my portfolio. Do you mind looking over it for me? Everyone knows you’re the best.”
“Um. Yeah. Sure.” He gave my shoulders another squeeze and then followed her to her table.
I drifted over to my chair and sat there for a moment, staring at the Trenton packet in front of me. I’d convinced myself that there was no way Mr. Barlow was going to give me an application; besides my recent unsteady hand, my grades had taken a real dip last winter—what with finding out my true love was a werewolf, and my brother’s wreaking havoc all over town.
Daniel talked about Trenton on a daily basis. What it would be like for the two of us to go there together. He wanted to be an industrial designer—to make functional art that people could hold in their hands and that would change the way they lived their lives—and it was one of the reasons he came back to Rose Crest. Besides looking for a cure for his werewolf curse, that is. It was his dream for us to go off to college together. Leave behind curfews and the sideways glances of everyone in town. Escape the memories of his terrible father, which haunted him each time he had to walk past his old home in order to get to mine.
Katie erupted into laughter on the other side of the room. I glanced over and saw Daniel grinning in that wry way of his as he pointed at something in her painting. Obviously, he’d just made some sort of joke—but my superhearing had faded away sometime during lunch, so I didn’t know what he’d said.