"You really didn't tell him you already submitted your application for the art school?" Cliff asked.

  I sighed, shaking my head as my friend. Cliff was a skinny Korean boy with a strong accent. Our friend group was big enough consisting of about twelve people that all just packed together. But I was closest with Cliff and Mina.

Mina gave me a smile. She was quiet and one of the sweetest girls you'll ever meet. She was an average height but since I was tall for my age she was a head smaller then me.

She adjusted her floral hijab. "Are you afraid?" She asked softly, that was Mina for you, always knowing exactly the right question that somehow offered support as well.

  My hand automatically reached to twirl a chunk of my hair, the shorter piece that always fell over the right side of my face. It was a nervous habit.

  "Maybe I am." I admitted, my light green eyes flicking to the ground. "I just...don't want to disappoint my dad I guess."

"Tell him." Cliff told me. "And if he starts swearing in Spanish then you're screwed."

I laughed. "You're still scarred by that?"

Cliff shuddered. "I didn't even know what he was saying but it was scary."

  "I don't know..." I said getting back on track. "I probably won't even get in."

  Mina pressed her lips together but didn't say anything. Simply looking at me with her deep brown eyes and saying;

  "Do what is best for you."

******

   "GWEN THERE'S MAIL FOR YOU!"

  I snatched the envelope from my brother's hand before he could destroy it. I gently opened it and peeked inside.

Oh. My. God.

  "What is it?" He asked.

  Before I could answer he had snatched it from me. His eyes widened. "You're trying to get in an art school?"

   Crud. I bit my lip.

  Then nodded.

Riley's mocking look had disappeared. An unreadable expression on his face as he read it over. For once I didn't see him as the nine year old he used to be that would pick on me and destroy my stuff. But I actually saw him as a young man. How did he get so tall? When did his voice deepen? What happened to that baby fat around his jaw?

  "This is awesome, Gweny." He said softly, handing it back to me.

  I took it. "I'm just worried...."

  He nodded understandingly. "Yeah." I had forgotten about how he had wanted to try become a professional baseball player. Or at least a coach. He used to chatter when we were younger about it. But then dad's expectations ruined that.

   "Want to watch a movie?"

  I raised an eyebrow, stuffing the letter in the waist band of my shorts. "YOU want to watch movie me?"

  He gave an embarrassed grin. "Yeah, why not?" He suddenly looked less confident the he always seemed.

  "Sure." I said quickly before he got the wrong idea.

  Our parents couldn't hide their surprised looks when they saw us lounging in Riley's room watching a movie on his laptop.

  They retreated back before poking their head in again.

  "Can we help you?" I grumbled. "Detective Valcov is about to find out who's the murderer."

  "It's totally Jann." Riley pitched in.

  "Uh, no, it's Brian."

  "Well, dinner is in a few minutes..." Mom said, tugging dad away.

Riley and I exchanged glances before giggling and jabbing play.

"Are you going to tell him?" Riley asked after awhile.

I didn't even have to guess what he meant.

"Yeah." I said. "I shouldn't be afraid to tell him this stuff, you know? If this is what I want then I should go for it."

"That's what Nana always said." Riley commented.

I gave a small smile. "I'm taking a page out of her book."

*******

   "Dad." I spoke up as soon as he had some food in his mouth to prevent him from interrupting me. He had a bad habit of doing that. Unfortunately I sometimes interrupted people too, it's hereditary.

  He looked up. "Mmf?" He asked through his mouthful of mom's homemade enchiladas.

  "I don't think I want to go to the Ninjago School of Science."I rushed out.

Everyone froze. Riley winced when Dad started coughing on his food. Mom whacked him hard on the back and he managed to choke out his dinner.

"WHAT?" He yelled as soon as it got out.

I shrank a little, because dad is pretty darn intimidating. I carefully placed my utensils down.

"I...I sent in an application to this really great art school, the best one in all of Ninjago. It's right in Ninjago city as well, have you heard of it? It's the Ninjago City College for Art and Design." I stuttered out.

  "What are you saying?" Dad asked, his voice was dangerously low.

He's going to make me say it, isn't he? Dammit!

  "I got accepted into the school..." I said slowly. "And I'd like to go there."

He shot up. "Absolutely not! No daughter of mine is going to a college to study how to draw a smiley face!"

I gaped. He did not!

"We don't draw smiley faces dad!" I shouted. "We study artists and different perspective and-"

"This is the most dumb thing I've ever heard!" Dad flung his hands in the air.

  "Anthony!" Mom snapped.

Dad took a deep breath and pressed his fingertips to his forehead.

"Please tell me you're having a fit of delirium Gwendolyn and you're not actually serious about this." He said in forced patience.

  "I am not in a fit of delirium." I said hotly.

Riley kept on darting his eyes back and forth between us as we faced off. Both of our eyes flashing and shoulders rigid.

I jutted my chin out. This was a battle I wasn't going to loose. I was tired of dad pushing me around and treating art like it was some silly fantasy.

  "Art isn't just some bad habit I have to get rid of!" I told him firmly. "It's my passion, and my life. I won't be happy fixing up cars or engineering stuff! That's your thing! And art...is mine."

  "And how, just how do you think you're going to pay for the tuition?" Dad demanded. "I'm not paying for you to skipping la-Dee-da through Ninjago city with dreams of scribbling on walls like a hippy!"

  "But you'd be perfectly fine paying for me to go to some miserable school where I take apart stuff!"

  "That'd different and the Ninjago School for Science is not miserable!"

  "Oh so you can offend what I like but I can't throw a few small insults at what you like?"

  "Engineering is an actual career Gwendolyn!"

  I almost faltered but the rage was drilled into my brain. Making my mouth move and fuelling my heart.

  "Art is a career too! But you're to small minded and proud to see it!" I yelled.

  "Don't you raise your voice!" He roared.

My nostrils were flaring, a not so attractive trait of mine. But I took a deep breath. This isn't what Nana would want me to do. Peace. She'd say. Patience is the best medicine. "

  "This is what I love dad." I said simply, letting it hands fall to my sides. "And if you can't see that...then maybe I'll follow the words of someone who could."

   Yes. That's what Nana's letter was. She was the one who told me about the school. Who researched it. Who encouraged me. Who even started taking up odd jobs saying it was to keep her busy. When really....was it to pay for tuition?

  "What are you talking about?" Dad asked suspiciously.

This is it, yes, yes, yes! "Nana would want me to follow my dreams dad. And I'm going to chase after them, and you don't have to pay a penny."

  "No. No, do you hear me young lady? You are NOT going to that school and that is final!"

  "You can't control my every move!" I snapped back.

"I'm not controlling your every move, Gwendolyn." Dad said slowly. "I'm just trying to show you that art isn't the best career path."

I shook my head, my brain swimming. "What about Nana?" I asked. "Her last gift to me was so I could do my art."

"Do not drag your grandmother into this!" Dad voice climbed higher. "You have no idea what her crazy illogical dreams did!"

I gaped. "Nana wasn't afraid to do what she wanted." I told him fiercely. "And neither am I."

With that I stood and ran to my room. I began shoving things into my bag, a simple duffel. Clothes, money I had saved up, everything.

My family had followed me and now my mother was in tears.

"No, Gwen! Please just calm down!" She cried.

Mom almost stopped me. Almost.

"Gwendolyn O'Hannah!" Dad said in his warning voice. "Stop this stupidity at once!"

  "You never want me to be happy!" I screamed at him, as I zipped it up tight. I snatched my letter from my bed.

  "Of course I want you to be happy! You can be happy being a mechanic!"

  "No," I shook my head. "No. No I cannot."

  And then I was out the door.