Gemotions

The notification pinged on Zara's phone, and she nearly dropped it. A full-ride to the prestigious Hawthorne Conservatory. *Her* name. Zara, the girl who had barely afforded her music lessons, who had practiced until her fingers bled, was now going to be able to study at the top. She felt a lightness, an upward pull inside her chest. Her face felt hot, and she thought she’d burst into tears at any moment.

She leaned against the cold brick wall outside the campus building, the October wind now feeling like a tropical breeze. It was a mistake, surely. They had the wrong girl. Yet, staring at the email, its subject line boldly declaring her good fortune, Zara found herself unable to detach her gaze. A slow, tentative smile stretched across her face, and she pulled out a crumpled tissue and buried her face into it, letting out a stifled sob of utter, incredulous happiness.