Page 81 of Love Me Not
Carnegie Mellon had several Tony-winning alum, so yes. Pretty good. But the school had a less than twelve percent acceptance rate across all majors not just the drama department.
“That one’s a little hard to get into.”
“I heard that, too.”
The boy fell silent and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. In what direction, I couldn’t tell.
“If you want a letter of recommendation, I’m happy to provide one. No matter where you apply, a letter will help your chances of getting accepted.”
Cracking his knuckles, he met my gaze. “Would I be wasting my time?”
“That depends on multiple factors. Your grades, the application requirements?—”
“I mean am I good enough?” he interrupted. “I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”
Fighting the urge to wrap him in a motherly hug, I moved down to the seat beside him and placed my hand over his.
“Aiden, there are no guarantees when someone pursues a life in the arts. Even with the best school and training behind you, acting is as much about luck as it is about craft. But you have a gift, and I wholeheartedly believe that if this is something you want to do, then you should go for it. I’d even say it’s a waste of a God-given talent if you don’t.”
His lips curled into a smile that transformed his face. Aiden was already an attractive kid, but that smile was something else entirely.
“You need to smile like that more often,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “What are your parents going to say when you tell them about going into acting?”
He shook his head, sending a dark lock falling over his eyes. “Oh, they don’t need to know. My grandma on my mom’s side—my birth mother, that is. My current mom is Wanda. She didn’t marry Dad until I was ten, about a year after Mom died. Anyway, Grammy left me enough money to take care of college so long as I don’t go crazy, and if I get a job along the way.”
I struggled to process the amount of information he’d casually tossed into those few sentences. “You have a college fund?”
“It’s technically an inheritance I get when I turn eighteen, which happens in April. I can do whatever I want with it, but I’m definitely using it for college.”
Not counting the wanting to pursue acting part, this might have been the most responsible thing any student had ever said to me. “That’s wonderful, Aiden. I’m really happy for you.”
“So I should do it?” he repeated, head held higher than before.
“It’s a big decision and I certainly shouldn’t be the deciding factor, but strictly from a talent perspective, I say yes, you definitely should.” When he stood up, I added, “But do the research and make sure this is what you want. If you get a year in and realize acting isn’t for you, don’t be afraid to pivot, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll remember that.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Aiden looked to be fighting a grin. “Thanks for talking to me. I really appreciate it.”
Still a little stunned, I said, “Of course. Anytime.”
As he lumbered away, one thought ran through my brain. That young man was going to be somebody. Whether that was on a stage or off, he was a good man in the making, and from what little he shared, that was a miracle on its own.
Maybe he’d remember me in an acceptance speech someday, or maybe he’d forget me entirely. Either way, I would remember Aiden Bishop for a very long time.
“This seems calmer than usual,” Josie said as she dodged a sprinting teen carrying a stack of red Solo cups. “Not doing a musical was a good idea.”
Standing in the wings of Carnegie High’s Lanman Auditorium as family, friends, and students filled the seats, calm was not the word that came to mind. Panic, stress, and anxiety were better descriptors. At least of what was going on in my head.
Rationally, I knew we were ready, but being rational on opening night was near impossible.
“You’re all set,” said Miles, stepping up beside Josie. “I put WD-40 on the hinges and shaved down the edge where the two sides meet. You shouldn’t have any problem now.”
The man was a life saver. A last minute test of the backdrop revealed an issue with the transition from one side to the other. The thing worked all week long, but something happened when it got moved to its final position.
“Thank you so much. Trey was handling that, but I don’t know where he is.”
“On his way,” Miles said. “He’s the one who asked me to have a look.”
What? How?