Center Stage (Country Roads Book 6) by Travis Starnes

Author:Travis Starnes [Starnes, Travis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Renegade Publishing
Published: 2024-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Thursday, I got home from school and realized that I didn’t have to get on a plane and go anywhere. I finally had a weekend where I could play at the Blue Ridge and just relax for a little while. The house was quiet even though Mrs. Philips’ car was in the driveway. She wasn’t downstairs, so I assumed she was in her room. I had homework, but I was catching up and, since I didn’t have to go on tour, I’d actually be able to spread it out over the weekend, which meant I could take an hour or so break before going to band practice, and then maybe do some homework afterward.

A very rare break.

I headed to the kitchen to grab a snack and noticed a stack of letters on the counter. Maybe twenty in total, which is why they caught my eye. Weirder, the top ones were addressed to me. Flipping through them, I actually found that all of the letters were addressed to me, all from colleges, by the looks of it.

I tore open the first one, the letter from UNC was on top, and pulled out the contents, which turned out to be an acceptance letter. The next one was from USC, which I’d also applied to since it had a really strong contemporary music and composition program. Another acceptance letter.

Weirdly, the third one was from Juilliard, a school I didn’t apply to, since it wasn’t the kind of music program I was looking for, only to find that they’d also sent an acceptance letter.

Could schools do that? Accept you even though you didn’t apply?

As I dug through the letters, I found they were all acceptance letters, with about two-thirds of them from schools I didn’t apply to. Some of them, like Berklee College of Music, were very prestigious. There was even one from Yale, of all places.

“Mrs. Phillips!” I yelled out, hoping she was home and hadn’t gone somewhere else with a friend or something.

Thankfully, a moment later, the door to her room opened and she came out, “What’s wrong, Charlie?”

“Did you see these?”

“Yes, I put them there for you. Sorry, I didn’t go to the box for a few days. Did you enter some kind of program or something?”

“No. These are acceptance letters for next year.”

“Did you apply to that many?” she asked, now as confused as I was.

She’d helped me send out my applications and knew how many schools I’d applied to, so her confusion was warranted.

“No. I didn’t. But they all accepted me. Look,” I said, handing the stack to her.

She flipped through several, her eyes widening as she took in some of the names. “This is incredible!”

“I know. I was pretty sure I knew which school I was going to accept, but now … there are too many options.”

“That’s better than no options. Just think about it. You don’t have to accept right away.”

“I’m going to call Kat.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” she said, patting my arm. “Still, I’m very proud of you.

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