“Whatever happens.”
she answered.
He frowned.
“That’s not very reassuring.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
Eli looked up.
Simone continued.
“We do not promise careers to sixteen-year-olds.”
“We prepare students for art and design colleges, university programs, apprenticeships, technical programs, and sometimes fields they discover later.”
“Some become working artists.”
“Some architects.”
“Designers.”
“Teachers.”
“Animators.”
“One of last year’s graduates is studying mechanical engineering.”
Darnell’s eyebrows rose.
“Why?”
“Because art school does not erase math.”
Simone smiled.
Darnell almost smiled back.
Almost.
Then:
“What percentage get college scholarships?”
Eli groaned.
“Dad.”
“No.”
Darnell looked at him.
“If this is real, we ask real questions.”
Simone nodded.
“Please.”
She answered.
Placement statistics.
Graduation rates.
College acceptance.
Financial aid.
Nothing perfect.
Darnell liked that.
People selling dreams usually avoided imperfect numbers.
Simone gave him several.
Then she placed the envelope on the table.
“The acceptance is not a command.”
she said.
“Eli does not have to attend.”
“You do not have to sign tonight.”
“You should visit.”
“Talk to teachers.”
“Read the handbook.”
“Look at the academic schedule.”
“Speak to parents.”
Darnell nodded.
“Good.”
Then:
“Why come yourself?”
Simone looked toward Eli.
“That series.”
“What about it?”
She thought.
“Our fellowship committee does not usually make home visits.”
“Eli’s teacher called yesterday.”
“She said she believed the family conflict around athletics might cause the offer to expire without an informed decision.”
Darnell stiffened.
Simone continued before he could become defensive.
“She did not say football was bad.”
“She said she was worried nobody had put the actual choices on the same table.”
Darnell looked at the helmet.
Then the art.
Same table.
He almost laughed.
Simone smiled slightly.
“I suppose now they are.”
Eli looked at her.
“Did Ms. Delgado tell you to say that?”
“No.”
“Good line though.”
“Thank you.”
Darnell did laugh then.
Briefly.
It surprised all three of them.
Simone gathered her folder.
“I should go.”
Darnell looked at the envelope.
“Monday?”
“Five p.m.”
“If we say no, does it go to someone else?”
“Yes.”
The answer hurt more than he expected.
Not because he wanted the spot.
Because choice had weight.
Simone walked toward the door.
Then turned.
“Mr. Carter.”
“Yes?”
“I want to be careful about something.”
Darnell waited.
“Eli is talented.”
“He is also sixteen.”
“This scholarship does not prove art is his destiny.”
“Just as a football showcase would not prove football is his.”
Darnell looked at her.
Simone continued.
“The useful question is not which opportunity sounds more impressive.”