Chapter 16: "The Leap"

The wind tugged at Lily's hoodie as she walked home from school, her backpack heavy against her shoulders, not just with textbooks but with the weight of decision. Her sneakers scuffed the pavement, and her mind spiraled in loops—around art, around college, around the question she hadn't stopped asking herself all week: Am I really good enough to try?

It started with Ms. Greene's casual comment in art club. Just a passing suggestion about applying to the Westview University Visual Arts Program. She'd mentioned a summer bridge course at first, but yesterday she'd gone a step further, pulling Lily aside after class.

"Lily," she'd said, setting a hand on her shoulder, her voice low and sincere, "you have the kind of voice in your work that colleges are looking for. Have you ever considered applying to Westview full-time?"

Lily had stared at her, stunned. Westview wasn't just some community college. It was a well-known university, especially for the arts. It was serious. Prestigious. It was for people who knew what they were doing. People like... Taylor, maybe. But Lily?

"I don't think I'm ready," she'd whispered.

"You're more ready than you think."

And now, here she was, walking home in the golden afternoon light, her heart knotted with both fear and a strange, unfamiliar hope.

---

That night at dinner, Lily barely touched her grilled chicken. Her mom noticed, of course.

"Long day?" her mom asked, scooping mashed potatoes onto Ava's plate.

Lily hesitated. "Kinda. Actually... I wanted to talk to you about something."

Her mom looked up, immediately attentive. Matt paused mid-chew.

Lily wiped her hands on her jeans. "Ms. Greene thinks I should apply to Westview. The actual university."

Silence.

Then, slowly, her mom smiled. "Really? That's amazing."

Lily shrugged. "I don't know. It's expensive, and I might not even get in. I'd have to take an entrance exam, submit a full art portfolio, write an essay, and I don't even know what I'd say."

Her mom reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Baby, if you want this, we will figure it out. Scholarships, financial aid, side jobs—we'll make it work. You just have to try."

A lump rose in Lily's throat. She wasn't used to feeling believed in.

---

Over the next few weeks, everything changed.

Lily started coming to school early and staying late, working in the art room on her portfolio. She asked Ms. Greene for advice on which pieces to include. She even let Taylor look at a few of her newer sketches.

"This one feels raw," Taylor said one day, pointing at a charcoal drawing of a girl standing in the rain, her face obscured. "In a good way. Like you're not trying to impress anyone."

Lily smiled softly. "Thanks."

Outside of art, her life became a blur of deadlines. She studied hard for the entrance exam—which tested everything from logic to reading comprehension. It wasn't just about art; it was about proving she could keep up with a university course load.

Some days she felt brave. Other days she panicked.

There were nights she stared at her essay draft for hours, unable to write a single word. What was she supposed to say? That she hated her body? That she used to cry herself to sleep because people laughed when she walked by? That art was the only place she ever felt like she belonged?

Eventually, she wrote:

I don't know what perfect looks like. I just know I've spent too much of my life chasing it. Now, I'm learning to chase something else: truth. Wholeness. Myself. I want to create art that makes other people feel less alone, because I know what lonely feels like. I think that matters.

She printed it, read it a dozen times, and sent it before she could talk herself out of it.

---

The morning of the entrance exam, Lily sat at the edge of her bed, knees bouncing. Her mom had packed her a small Ziploc bag of grapes and granola, and left a sticky note on the bathroom mirror: You're going to do amazing. Love you.

She arrived at Westview's sprawling campus with thirty other hopeful students. Most looked confident. Prepped. Stylish.

Lily wore jeans and a hoodie and tried not to sweat through her T-shirt.

The exam was tough but fair. She took deep breaths during the harder sections, reminded herself of all the late nights she'd studied, all the practice tests she'd taken. By the time she handed it in, her hand was cramping and her heart was pounding.

"Now we wait," the proctor said, collecting the sheets.

And wait she did.

---

A month passed. Then two.

Life resumed its normal beat. Lily focused on school, on helping Ava with her reading homework, on walking more instead of ordering food when she was stressed. She was trying—not to be skinny, not to be perfect—but to be kinder to herself.

She didn't tell anyone how often she checked her email. Or how many times she dreamed of opening that acceptance letter.

Then, one Tuesday afternoon in early spring, she walked in from school to find her mom standing in the kitchen, a white envelope in her hand.

Lily froze.

"It came," her mom said, eyes wide.

Lily dropped her backpack on the floor. Her fingers trembled as she took the envelope.

It had the Westview University crest printed in deep blue ink.

She ripped it open.

*Dear Miss Bennett,

We are thrilled to inform you...*

That was all she needed to read before she let out a half-sob, half-laugh.

She was in.

---

That night, she and her mom went out for dinner at their favorite local diner. Nothing fancy. Just burgers and milkshakes and music playing from an old jukebox. Ava and Matt had made her a homemade "Congratulations" card, complete with stick figures and glitter glue.

Her mom raised her glass of sparkling apple cider. "To Lily. The first Bennett to go to university."

Lily flushed. She wasn't used to feeling proud of herself. But tonight? She did.

---

Lying in bed later, she stared at the ceiling, the acceptance letter tucked safely beside her pillow.

There were still things she was afraid of. Still voices in her head that whispered she wasn't enough. But tonight, those voices were quieter.

Because she had taken the leap.

Because she had made it.

And somewhere, not far in the future, she'd meet someone in a coffee shop on that same campus—a boy with kind eyes who asked her what she was drawing. But for now, she just smiled to herself and closed her eyes.

Everything was beginning.

And she was ready.