Stefan had to pull the phone away from his ear when he heard the news. Having a loud friend like Vasil was truly harmful to his hearing.
After Vasil's scream of "I got the scholarship!" finally ended, Stefan brought the phone back to his ear.
"Well, congratulations," he said.
He realized he was smiling as he said it — and wiped the smile off his face, even though Vasil couldn't see him.
"I got in too," he added, "but I came in second in the exam, so I didn't get the scholarship."
Vasil shouted again, "So you're coming to the school, right?"
Stefan sighed. "Yeah, but it's really annoying. If I had just answered two more questions, I would've come in first."
This time, Vasil responded in a more normal tone, "You really gave it your all. You shouldn't let two questions ruin your excitement!"
Stefan rolled his eyes. He didn't need advice — especially not from someone who had won one of the school's two scholarships.
"I know," he muttered.
Vasil asked, "When are you coming back?"
Stefan lifted his head and looked at his grandmother, who was waving at him from the kitchen.
"Probably staying another month," he said while waving back.
It was always the same: as soon as he arrived at his grandparents' house, it was like being taken hostage — he wasn't allowed to leave. That was one of the perks (and downsides) of being the favorite grandchild.
"My parents and cousins all went back. It's getting kind of boring here."
Not that he was really complaining. He always enjoyed the peace and quiet of his paternal grandparents' home and the small town they lived in.
Vasil sighed. "I know what you mean. I got so bored, I started working at Lance's restaurant."
"You're working at a restaurant?"
"Yup. It's actually more interesting than I thought. You should try it."
"No thanks, I'm not that bored."
"At least you could message me once in a while. Or are you not into that either?"
"I'm not really a fan of chatting."
Vasil said, "oh really? Anyway, I gotta go — still on my shift. I'll text you after work. Later!"
Stefan opened his mouth to say something, but Vasil had already hung up.
He sighed and tossed his phone onto the couch, then got up and headed to the kitchen to sneak a bite of the cookies that had been smelling delicious for the last ten minutes.
***
Vasil and Irina were walking home together. Lance had to receive a delivery for the restaurant that day, so he said he'd join them later.
A wide smile had been plastered on Vasil's face all day — and he couldn't wipe it off. Nor did he have any reason to. Even when he looked at his mother, she had a huge smile too.
It all felt like a dream.
Knowing you did well at something was one thing. But actually getting something because of it — that was something else entirely. And this scholarship was one of those rare good things Vasil always thought only happened to other people.
But now it was his.
Now, he could study at a high school that had its own music department — and even better, he could be at the same school as his best friend.
He'd always known Stefan would get in. But he was surprised Stefan didn't win the scholarship.
Shortly after the results were announced, photos of the two scholarship winners were posted on the school's website homepage.
The other winner, the one who nearly scored perfectly on the exam, was a girl with dark chocolate hair and eyes. Her bio said both her parents had also graduated from the same high school and had gone on to medical school.
In many ways, this girl — Violet was her name — reminded Vasil of Stefan. But Stefan probably wouldn't appreciate hearing that.
When they reached home, Vasil opened the door and let his mother go in first. Irina stepped inside and quickly disappeared into her room.
Vasil entered and closed the door behind him. He walked toward the kitchen to take out the chicken fillet from the freezer — just as Lance had asked him to do.
After he did that and turned around, he saw Irina standing at the kitchen entrance, holding something large behind her back.
It had a long black case — but there was no way it could be what Vasil thought it was… could it?
He asked cautiously, "Mom?"
Irina gave him a sheepish smile.
"I wanted to give this to you before the results came out, but… looks like I was a little slow."
She brought it out from behind her, and now Vasil was sure.
His eyes widened as he looked at his mother, then at the violin case in her hand.
Irina placed it on the kitchen table and stepped back to let Vasil open it.
He stepped forward and carefully unzipped it. As if it were made of the most fragile glass, he gently lifted the violin out and stared at it in awe.
Irina said, "Ms. Harmon helped me pick it out. It's the best I could afford, so unfortunately it's not one of those super expensive professional ones."
Vasil interrupted her, still speaking softly, as if afraid a loud voice might shatter the instrument.
"It's perfect."
He placed the glossy brown violin back in its case, his eyes big and damp.
"This is exactly what I've always wanted!"
He rushed to his mother and hugged her tightly.
"Thank you thank you thank you!!!"
Irina paused. She had known this would make Vasil happy — but this happy? She hadn't expected.
She hugged him back and said, "It also comes with a music stand and a… rosin, I think? I don't really know what that is, but Ms. Harmon said it's useful."
Vasil finally pulled away — and Irina silently thanked God, because if he had squeezed any tighter, she might've suffocated.
He said excitedly, "It is useful! Thanks for telling me!"
Irina smiled. "I'm just glad you liked it."
"Liked it? I love it!"
Vasil turned back to his violin and began inspecting it carefully.
Irina pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down, watching her son excitedly examine the bow.
His face now reminded her so much of his childhood. How long had it been since she last saw him this thrilled? She couldn't remember.
Vasil opened a small compartment in the case that Irina hadn't noticed when she bought it.
He took out a white item and opened it — revealing a translucent amber-colored block that caught the light.
He held it up for his mother to see more clearly.
"This is called rosin. Without it, the bow doesn't make any sound on the violin."
He picked up the bow and rubbed the rosin back and forth along it a few times.
Then, he lifted his violin — which already had the shoulder rest attached — and positioned it between his collarbone and chin.
"But once you've put the rosin on…"
Vasil didn't finish his sentence.
He let the violin speak for him.
P.s. That night, Stefan received about 73 pictures of Vasil's new violin.