The Unwanted Tutor

Chapter 17

May, 1984

"Garrett?" My mother poked her head into my room. "You have some mail, from the California Institute of the Arts? And the Pratt Institute of Design?" She held up both letters.

My heart dropped into my stomach, I set my sketchbook aside and walked over to her to retrieve them. "Thanks."

"Well, open them." My mom said excitedly, she reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.

I sighed and tore the Pratt letter open, this was it. My only hope of going to college and doing something I loved was in one of these letters.

I had applied to many colleges over the past few months. With Anthony's help, I was able to write great essays for all of them. Anthony had convinced me to try and get into the Pratt Institute in New York, so I did, reluctantly.

I really wanted to try Oregon or Washington, even Colorado would be an option, but Anthony told me that those kinds of colleges aren't really known nationally and basically told me it would be a waste of time.

"I can get you into Pratt. I have connections, Garrett, the best!" Anthony said way back in January.

"But, I don't want to go there. Why can't we try Washington? What about Nevada?" I slammed my pen down in frustration.

"You don't want to go to New York? Garrett, this would be the perfect opportunity. I could go with you, buy a nice apartment there. You could get a dorm, everything would work out!" He said.

"I mean, I'll do it but I'm also going to apply to CalArt." I picked up the pamphlet for it.

The California Institute of the Arts was probably my last resort. It was in Santa Clarita so it would be pretty easy to commute.

Anthony shook his head as he paced back and forth, "I just want the best for you. The best is in Pratt."

"What is your obsession with New York? Just go back if you want to be there so badly." I replied.

"Excuse me?" He turned around, "I understand that you're frustrated but this is your future we're talking about. I really need you to focus, Garrett."

"Fine, help me write my essay then." I slumped down in my chair.

"Help?" His eyes seemed to sparkle as he walked behind me and put his hands on my shoulders, "I'll write it for you, if you want."

"For CalArt?" I asked.

"No, silly. Your Pratt essay, come on. No one will know," He rubbed my shoulders with his strong hands.

It didn't seem like I had a choice, "Sure, I have other work to do anyway."

That was so long ago it seemed. Now, I was standing here with two letters in my hands. One of them would decide my fate.

I took out the Pratt letter and briefly glanced at it, I looked at the words Garrett Winslow, and we regret to inform you for about two seconds before a tiny grin appeared on my face. "I didn't get in,"

"Oh, honey. Don't worry, New York wasn't the best fit for you." She patted my shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah you're right." I mumbled and tossed the letter onto my dresser.

I wasn't that disappointed. I didn't have my heart set on New York, I wasn't ready to go that far away from home. It also felt like a tiny jab at Anthony, and he wrote the essay! Guess he wasn't as great as he thought.

I still had one more letter to open, the CalArt one. This could be it, getting rejected from Pratt was one thing, but I didn't think I could deal with two rejections today.