Amber Eyes

FIFTY SEVEN

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

( Two Years Ago )

Truth be told, Penelope didn't hear about the Redville School of Arts till she was fourteen. She remembered the day very clearly—her mother was out on a business trip and Canary was sitting on the couch, watching television. Penelope didn't usually sit there since it was something she wasn't allowed to do during her study hours, which, to be honest, were a lot longer than anyone would expect.

"Penelope." Canary smiled. "Come sit with me for a while."

Penelope hesitated. "But it's—I'm supposed to be studying right now."

"You and I both know you don't want to study right now. Even if you go and sit in front of those weird books of yours right now, you ain't gonna pay attention to it." Canary had a point. "Come on, love, I'm not gonna tell your mom. Swear."

Penelope was convinced. She sat next to Canary and saw what she was watching. It was some dance show, with the performers doing some complicated routine that in her opinion only a few people could. There was something about it—something about the expression on their faces and the movements of their dance that seemed so enticing to her. They made it seem so easy and flawless when she knew that it was a skill that must have taken so much of their blood, sweat and tears.

"You know Redville?" Canary asked.

Penelope turned to face her but the older woman's eyes were on the screen, a small smile on her face. "No," she replied. "It's a what? A dance group or something?"

"Um, no, not really." She let out a laugh, shaking her head. "You sing, Penelope, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Redville's a school. For dancers. Singers. Actors. Designers. Painters. They're all so... magnificent, you know. They're spectacular. They practice an art and they balance their studies as well. Many of them drop their art subject to pursue something else, like in studies, because the school's just that good at everything. If you wanna do law, you can do law. If you wanna become an engineer, then go ahead." Penelope didn't miss the enthusiasm in her voice. It was so heavy, so apparent—the excitement as she talked about a school.

It's just a school, though, isn't it? At the end of the day, it's just a school. Penelope sighed. "A school for genius overachieving students, you mean?"

Canary laughed. "Way to put it. But you're right, actually. Everyone there is an overachiever."

The performance on screen came to an end.

"You know what? You should try for it."

"What?"

"I mean, think about it, Penelope! It's a high school for artists. You're a singer. You're on top of all your classes. You're smart and talented, exactly what people need to get in this school. You can do so good if you want to, Penelope."

Penelope shrugged.

On the screen, a trio came up, ready for performance.

"I hadn't even heard of this school up until a few minutes ago, Canary."

"Yeah, but you have now." Canary took her hand. "See, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about what Bella would think, right?" She was right. Penelope was thinking of what her mother would say. "But fuck that, for now, you know? Read about this school. Watch some interview or whatever. It's a good school, Penelope, and your mother won't be mad if you get into this. She'll be mad proud of you. You get me?"